A lovely comment arrived from Sue in response to my post titled, “Deciding who to vote for” which included a thoughtful piece by James Skillen.

Thanks so much for sharing this piece. I found it very helpful and very refreshing in a time when so much political dialogue is embedded in fierce partisan loyalties. I can engage with Skillen's ideas without feeling like I've got to wear armor.

But ... I shared the link with a group of acquaintances, thinking that it was a good model of civil discourse and might inspire some useful dialogue. Well, what it inspired was (in their own words) "a hornet's nest." According to them, the entire article is a pro-Obama, pro-Democrat, pro-second-exodus-narrative (and therefore anti-American) diatribe. One person responded, "I didn't know Francis Schaeffer was a socialist or communist." I was flabbergasted.

So ... I've long admired your patient responses to similar off-the-charts reactions to articles that you believed were well-measured critiques, but I'm wondering, how do you personally decide when to offer clarifications, further discussion, etc., and when to just say, "Hmmmm, there's not much point in continuing this discussion"? How do you graciously end a fruitless disagreement?

That’s a great question, Sue. I can’t tell you how often I’ve faced similar responses to things I’ve shared or said or taught. It can be very discouraging especially when these responses are coming from people who claim to be the people of God. Bertrand Russell used to say, “People would rather die than think; in fact they do.” He was correct, and sadly, it applies even to those who claim that following the Truth is central to their lives.

I think there are several reasons why this occurs. (I don’t know if your friends were Christians or not, but since the Francis Schaeffer comment sounds like it came from a Christian, I’ll assume they were believers here.) First, many Christians have come to believe that conformity is a measure of commitment—in other words, that believers should necessarily share not just identical doctriness and ethics, but opinions and activities. However, having a Christian mind does not mean that there is a “Christian line” on every topic. Life and reality are far richer and more nuanced than that. Second, many evangelicals, having decided that a conservative ideology embraces their political leanings, begin to confuse conservatism with Christianity. It’s a subtle process, but also a deadly one, since no ideology should be infused into the gospel. Third, few understand that political ideologies are not neutral, but are, to use a biblical theological category, idolatries. Each one, conservatism included, takes one aspect of created reality and elevates it to a position where it defines the rest of life—making it into a god, a sovereign. (For a thoughtful and fascinating study of this, see Political Visions & Illusions: A Survey and Christian Critique of Contemporary Ideologies by David Koyzis.) And finally, I am convinced that Russell was correct. Thinking is hard, listening is difficult, sorting through competing claims takes time and energy, while skating through life is far easier. So, people tend to read authors they agree with, hang with people like them, and react defensively (angrily, fearfully) when anyone says anything that doesn’t seem to line up with their own prejudices and opinions.

So, knowing that, I try not to be discouraged when I find Christians shutting down conversations. I try to keep from reacting myself, which is hard. Sometimes, I will say something like, “Why does it feel like you don’t really want to listen or talk about this winsomely?” Or, “Do you think Christians should be able to talk about this without it being a hornet’s nest?” I try to be a good listener, and calmly ask good questions. (The calmly part is the hard part, of course.) Sometimes, I just remain silent, knowing that their minds are closed to truth and that they need the gospel far more than they need help thinking about politics.

The saddest part to me in all this is not that your friends are unable to discuss such topics without defensiveness, nor that they misread Skillen, nor even that they are so closed-minded about seeking after truth with others. What is saddest to me is that they are so unsafe to talk to. Margie and I have long prayed our home would be the safest place in Rochester, where people can explore ideas without fear and where they can be themselves without being treated dismissively.

Anyway, be safe, Sue. Not in the sense of keeping out of danger (though I wish that for you, too), but in the sense of being a person who, like Jesus never compromised but with whom people understood they could be with, without having to wear armor. As you do, remember that some walked away from him angrily after stirring up hornet’s nests, too.

And thanks for your kind words.