I have been a cold cereal fanatic for as long as I can remember. Throughout elementary school, my day started with a bowl of cereal, followed by another after-school, and a third bowl at bedtime. Even now, I often have two bowls a day. 

Some of my favorites over the years have been Shredded Wheat, Cap’n Crunch with Crunchberries, Wheat Chex, Frosted Flakes, Raisin Bran, Froot-Loops, Sugar Pops and Sugar Smacks. The latter two now sport healthier-sounding names, Corn Pops and Honey Smacks.

The competition between cereals has always been fierce. I particularly remember a merchandising war between Kellogg’s Corn Flakes and Post Toasties. They tasted about the same, but the Kellogg’s boosted sales when the hillbilly duo Homer and Jethro sang in a nasal tone, “Oh, they won’t wilt, when you pour on milk.” Post came back with “Sheriff” Andy Griffith, proclaiming “Post Toasties make breakfast a little bit better.”

That slogan soon popped up in church contexts. As a child visiting relatives in northwest Iowa, I would hear adults from the Reformed Church say of their Christian Reformed neighbors, “Those Post Toastie Christians—they think they’re just a little bit better.” 

At the time, I had no idea what that was about. Soon, however, I would learn how prevalent it is for Christians to devise ways to think they’re “a little bit better,” or even a lot better. Between the RCA and CRC, being better had to do with issues like alcohol, Christian education, Masonic membership, hymnody, and evening service attendance. My RCA relatives even managed to feel “a little bit better” because, ironically,  they didn’t think of themselves as better than others. 

When I branched outside of Reformed circles, and ran with Pentecostals, I quickly found this same mentality thriving there too. They looked at the Christian church, and divided it into two groups. On one side were the ordinary believers who barely qualified for heaven. On the other side were the extraordinary and enthusiastic believers who had been baptized by the Holy Spirit, empowered as witnesses, and gifted with miracles and speaking in tongues. The group I was with even considered itself a little bit better than the typical Pentecostal because unlike that Assembly of God group who said speaking in tongues was a necessary sign of the baptism of the Spirit, our group believed it was optional. 

During the fundamentalist and the liberal debates, along came the evangelicals who saw themselves as a little bit better — less legalistic than the fundies and more biblical than the libs. Now evangelicals have become so tainted by MAGA-ism, efforts are underway to discover a better version of evangelicalism. 

Every good and perfect gift from God, including every good and perfect truth, is quickly skewed into evidence that we’re better than others. It’s no longer enough to simply say, “I’m a Christian.” We feel compelled to attach more labels: conservative/progressive, Calvinist/Arminian, premillennial/amillennial, liturgical, social justice, evangelistic. Even among Calvinists, you can distinguish yourself by being a Five-Point Calvinist. 

I actually don’t mind labels. They help us get a starting point in understanding someone elses perspective on following Jesus. The big problem with labels, however, is using them to determine if we’re “a little bit better” than they are.

Recently I was in a conversation about the importance of being disciples of Jesus. Typically, this involves a call to be more intentional about prayer, obedience, evangelism, love, serving, worship, and biblical knowledge — all good things. Yet I get the impression that “disciple” easily becomes just one more way to be “a little bit better” than all those so-called “nominal” Christians out there. 

One reason for these distinctions is our sinful attempt to justify ourselves before God with our “better than” status. But I think there’s another reason we keep making these “better than” distinctions. There’s a measure of reality to it. On certain scales, some Christians are “better” than others. This one knows the Bible better; that one bears more fruit of the Spirit; another is more eager to obey Jesus. Others are not as diligent. They seldom read the Bible or attend worship.. They only pray in a crisis. They rarely consider the “least of these.”

Even the New Testament church hints at this “better than” talk. Jesus talked about the Roman centurion having more faith than the Jews. Paul chided the Corinthians for not being as generous as the Macedonians. The book of Hebrews reminded its readers that they had not progressed in biblical knowledge as they should have. The Corinthians excelled in spiritual gifts, but were missing love. So yes, the idea that some Christians are better than others does have some basis.   

However, we also know it’s probably not spiritually healthy to dwell too much on this. For one thing, our knowledge of others is finite. We might see ourselves as superior in one respect, yet be completely unaware of ways they outdo us. Since spiritual maturity can be measured in many ways, we shouldn’t tip the scales in our favor by emphasizing our strengths, while downplaying the things we lack. That seemingly milquetoast Christian might actually put your prayer life to shame.

Second, it’s always important to remember that whatever good we see in ourselves is there only by the grace of God, not because of our superior response to God. 

Finally, our attitude toward other believers must take its cue from God. God sees our weaknesses, the holes in our theology, our lack of faith, the good deeds we omit, and our attitude of being a little bit better. The Lord sees it all and says, “I love you all.” And God calls us to love everyone as well. 

So if you’re ever tempted to think of someone else as a CINO, a Christian In Name Only, just remember: that’s true of all of us. We are Christians only in the name of Christ. 

By the way, Post Cereal eventually dropped their Post Toasties brand with its “a little better better” slogan. Go thou and do likewise.