Churches are full of people with strong opinions, and disagreements are inevitable. But some arguments leave more bruises than others. Drawing on his experience as a church leader, Jeff Lucas explains why Christians need to learn to fight fairly, resist the temptation to label others ‘divisive’ and remember that winning the argument isn’t everything
I have never really understood the attraction of golf, mainly because I am useless at it. My golf ‘swing’ is more like a brief muscular spasm followed by the hope that nobody noticed. But my dislike goes deeper, because, as a child, my family went camping beside a golf course.
Most families choose a campsite because it has trees, a river or somewhere for the children to play. My parents apparently thought it would be fun to sleep within range of golfers who were armed to the teeth with clubs. One day, I was struck by a golf ball. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say it was below the belt in every sense of the phrase, and it hurt. A lot.
Over the years, I’ve discovered that church life can occasionally feel remarkably similar. Churches are full of people who care deeply. We hold convictions, opinions and preferences – and we can sometimes assume that our view has been personally approved by heaven. So, disagreement is inevitable. This can, of course, be healthy. If everyone in a church agreed about everything, we should worry; it might be shaping up to be a cult. Its doctrines may be orthodox, but its culture is heading towards toxicity.
The issue isn’t whether Christians disagree. It’s how we do so. There are ways of handling conflict that enable everyone to sit down afterwards and have a cup of tea. Others leave believers needing dental work. In my years as a church leader, I’ve received a few body blows. One knockout punch is: “This church isn’t loving enough”, which might be true, but it’s rather difficult to know how ‘loving’ is loving enough. Is there a love-o-meter that flashes green when we’ve reached acceptable Christian affection, or turns red when we’re all acting horribly?
Then there’s the accusation that the preaching “isn’t deep enough”. But is a sermon deep because the preacher quotes three dead theologians, refers to a Greek verb nobody can pronounce and displays a grainy photo of an archaeological artefact from somewhere near the Euphrates? And why, when somebody explains a difficult biblical idea clearly, do we assume it must therefore be shallow? Another slap is when someone complains: “Everyone agrees with me.” It’s amazing how “everyone” can mean “me and two friends”.
But there’s also a low blow that leaders can inflict, especially when a member of the congregation asks a reasonable question or offers a legitimate concern. “They’re being divisive.” I know leaders say this because, to my shame, I have.
So let’s disagree, hold convictions, argue our case, ask difficult questions and challenge one another. But let’s fight fairly, and resist the temptation to exaggerate, invent a crowd or stick labels like ‘divisive’ on each other. Sometimes the best thing we can do is remember that the person sitting next to us is not our enemy. They’re family. We may occasionally drive each other nuts, but we can still love one another.
Perhaps one of the marks of a healthy church is leaving enough room for the possibility that, despite our certainty, we might still have something to learn. Let’s take a breath and remember that we’re talking to someone Jesus loves, someone we are called to love, and someone who may have something to teach us – even if we’re convinced that they’re wrong.
Sometimes the most Christian thing to do isn’t win the argument. It’s to make sure that, when the argument is over, the other person still knows they are loved. When we play nicely, those outside the Church might just think about coming home to join us.
