I grew up in a neighbourhood where most of my friends and I went to the same church. Our parents were either friends who introduced us, or we met in Sunday School. A few others went to different churches, but I was largely unaware of the theological differences between ours and theirs.
I’ll say I did notice things like: girls at their church wore trousers, ours didn’t; they would be in church all morning, sometimes spilling into the afternoon, ours was wrapped up in two hours, anything longer felt excessive; and they prayed in something called tongues, we never mentioned those. I saw the differences in practice, but not the doctrines that might have shaped them. Still, I didn’t think much of it. As far as I was concerned, we were all headed to heaven.
Fast forward to my first year of university. I met a young man determined, as he put it, “to rid the campus of false doctrine.” For the first time, someone directly challenged what I believed. He came at me strongly, but I stood my ground. The ground was not very solid, I will admit now, but somehow, I still stood on it.
Looking back, I realise I made several mistakes in how I engaged, not just with him, but with many others I’ve had theological differences with over the years. University opened my eyes to a wide range of teachings, and with that came many discussions of what then we should follow. In hindsight, I see where I made mistakes in engaging with people of different theological leanings. Below are ten of those.
1. Confusing Correction With Conflict
At some point in our Christian walk, we will be challenged, whether gently or sharply, about what we believe. And when that happens, it’s tempting to interpret disagreement as hostility. I used to take theological challenges personally and would slip into defensive mode. I was not always ready to change my mind; it felt like losing ground. But not every disagreement is an attack.
Disagreement is an opportunity.
In fact, it may well be an opportunity. Iron sharpens iron (Proverbs 27:17). Sharpening involves friction. That kind of friction sparked something in me. What began as resistance led me to deepen my convictions in light of God’s word. And that reflection leads me to a second mistake I have made.
2. Leaning on Tradition Instead of Scripture
When I started asking myself why I believe what I do, I realised that my beliefs weren’t always grounded in scripture but church traditions. When challenged, I didn’t turn to the Bible, I defaulted to tradition. “That’s how we’ve always done it.” There was a time when my denomination rarely budged on anything. If a practice had history, that was reason enough to preserve it. I absorbed that mindset.
Scripture should be our starting point when we wrestle with theological disagreements.
Looking back, I realise that I was more loyal to my denomination’s convictions than to God’s word. But the word of God is truth (John 17:17). Therefore scripture, not tradition, should always be our starting point when we wrestle with theological disagreements.
3. Studying to Correct, Not to Grow
Ironically, I have always held to doctrines of the authority and inerrancy of scripture, even before I knew the word inerrancy. And it was finally drilled in me that I would have to start with scripture if I was going to have meaningful conversations with people who held different views from me.
I was studying to be right.
But here’s where I stumbled. I wasn’t going into scripture to learn; I was studying to be right. I approached scripture like a lawyer building a case, not a disciple seeking truth. Instead of letting scripture shape me, I was shaping it to suit my arguments. By God’s grace, the Holy Spirit convicted me. I had to admit I didn’t, and still don’t, have it all figured out. That’s precisely why I need the word. Not just to correct others, but so that I would be taught, rebuked, corrected and trained in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16).
4. Expecting Instant Agreement
There have been times I’ve searched the scriptures, tested my beliefs, and come away confident that they align with God’s word. So when I encountered someone who disagreed, I naturally wanted them to see it the same way, and immediately so. I wasn’t content to simply share the truth and entrust the outcome to God. I wanted the person to leave the conversation convinced, persuaded by me. Visible results. But that was not how I ought to have approached things.
The work of transformation belongs to the Spirit.
My responsibility is to be a faithful witness. The work of conviction and transformation belongs to the Spirit. Even today, I sometimes still wrestle with frustration when I see what I believe is a clear misreading of scripture. But I need to leave to God what is his work alone.
5. Being Quick to Speak and Slow to Listen
“Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:9). That is the wisdom found in God’s word, to give others an ear. As I move from quickly seeking agreement, I also think of how I have been quick to speak. I’ve listened with one ear while impatiently waiting to say my piece. The scripture I planned to use was already on standby, and my rebuttal was in my mind doing push-ups, getting ready to land a punch.
I often missed their point entirely.
But in my rush to defend, I often missed their point entirely. Rather than honouring the person by giving them my full attention and seeking to understand them, I was ready to be dismissive. I had to learn to listen not to win arguments, but to love well.
6. Treating People Like Problems to Fix
I remember visiting a church where one of the first questions people asked was how “sound” my home church was. If they sensed even a hint of what they considered error, they were ready to correct it. I must say, it rubbed me the wrong way. Later, I realised I had done the same thing, just more subtly.
Other believers aren’t projects.
I would ask leading questions to gauge someone’s theology, then try to patch the cracks I thought I saw in their beliefs. But other believers aren’t projects, they’re first brothers and sisters in the Lord. Love must shape the way we approach our brothers and sisters. We owe it to them to love them (Romans 13:8). This doesn’t mean affirming their every view, but it will mean we will not dehumanise them in our interactions.
7. Turning Secondary Issues Into Gospel Essentials
Not every theological disagreement is a matter of first importance. But for a time, I struggled to make that distinction. Even within my denomination, I often found myself in endless back-and-forths about secondary or tertiary issues, rarely reaching agreement. There’s nothing wrong with those discussions. But looking back, I see that we often placed the weight of the gospel on things that weren’t central. We ended up shouting where the Bible whispers.
We ended up shouting where the Bible whispers.
I am not saying secondary issues are unimportant. What we believe shapes how we live. But we must be careful not to let minor differences create major divisions in the body of Christ.
8. Treating My Personal Convictions as Biblical Commands
I am someone who naturally steers clear of the grey areas. Even if something may be permissible, I will often avoid it if I do not think it beneficial (1 Corinthians 10:23). That inclination means I’m more prone to lean toward legalism than antinomianism. And because at times I have chosen not to partake in certain liberties, I have expected the same standard of other people. Just because I could not do something in good conscience, I treated it as though no one should either, elevating my convictions to the level of biblical commands.
While personal convictions matter, they aren’t always commands from God.
Over time, I’ve learned that while personal convictions matter, they aren’t always commands from God. And confusing the two can place burdens on others that scripture doesn’t.
9. Forgetting the Call to Unity
Paul reminds us that believers are one body in Christ (1 Corinthians 12:12-27). As a body, we’re called to unity. Yet I’ve often fallen into the trap of thinking that unity requires uniformity. But unity can be preserved where there is little uniformity. We can disagree and yet still live at peace with others. We can hold different convictions and still spur one another on in the Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20). If we truly long for unity in the body, we will pray for it, just as Jesus did in his final recorded prayer before the cross (John 17:20-21).
10. Neglecting Prayer in the Process
Prayerlessness. Though it comes last on this list, it may be the greatest mistake I have made. I often failed to pray for the people I disagreed with, and even more rarely did I pray with them. Prayer could have shaped my heart before I spoke. It could have given me wisdom to avoid many of the missteps I’ve just described. But more than that, prayer is a declaration of dependence: only God can convict hearts and open eyes, mine included.
Only God can convict hearts and open eyes.
Prayer also softens us. It stirs our affections for the one we are praying for, helping us engage not out of pride, but out of love. And it reorients our goal: that our conversations would seek God’s glory, not our own. Looking back, I see how much would have changed if I had simply started on my knees. So if you’re navigating theological differences, start there. Not with your arguments, but with prayer.
