I’ve had Christians with me while I was explaining the gospel to someone, and the Christians seemed more uncomfortable with the situation than the person being evangelized. So, while their apprehension may or may not lead them to physically climb onto your shoulders, the prospect of potential conflict makes many believers nervous.

Growing up, I had a tiny, white Maltese named Poppy. Poppy could not handle conflict.

Whenever there was an argument in our house, Poppy would begin to shiver and whine like a teakettle beginning to boil. If the raised voices carried on, he would carry his shivering white body on to the chest of the nearest seated person. From there, with pain-filled eyes and shortness of breath, he would climb to the shoulders. I am convinced, had he been endowed with a greater balance and canine dexterity, nothing would have pleased Poppy more than to stand on the crown of my head. What correlation that dog made between our domestic disagreements and his summit of Mount Human is anyone’s guess. But for Poppy, that was his method of coping with conflict.

I think of that dog’s conflict anxiety when I see how some Christians handle disagreement. If ever a theological discussion escalates beyond a placid tone of “agree to disagree,” observers begin shifting their weight, clearing their throats, and contemplating the carpet. I’ve had Christians with me while I was explaining the gospel to someone, and the Christians seemed more uncomfortable with the situation than the person being evangelized. So, while their apprehension may or may not lead them to physically climb onto your shoulders, the prospect of potential conflict makes many believers nervous.

Not Seeking Conflict, But Faithfulness

Certainly, Christians are to be peacemakers. And conflict, therefore, should not be sought or desired. But the problem with Poppy Christianity is that being a Christian requires believers to step into situations that are irreversibly awkward—situations that have the potential to turn contentious. We must not be so scared of strife that, in attempts to avoid it, we forsake our duties.

Faithful evangelism, for example, will often result in bitter rejection. Church history has attesting to this a mountain of martyrs. Calling a brother or sister in Christ to repent, even when done in love and patience, may lead to conflict. Exercising discernment—dividing truth from error—can also lead to vehement disagreement, even among believers. It’s not that we pursue evangelism and discernment in pursuit of arguments, but being a Christian means doing things that lead to awkwardness, even contention.

More often, however, Poppy Christians are so terrified of awkward conflict that they diligently side-step these Christian duties. Worse, we too often justify our cowardice by painting it over in shades of virtue. “I’d rather be gracious than contentious,” we warmly concede. Or, “It’s more loving for me to just let it go.” “It’s not my place,” we whimper as we retreat from the frontline; “I just want to be encouraging and focus on the positive.”

Many believers will never have that tough talk, will rarely proclaim the gospel, and will act as if a stand against theological error is something of a social faux pas. And how do they defend their tender-hearted neglect of these duties of Christian love? Because they are such gracious, kind, loving, and merciful Christians, of course! But more often, their avoidance of confrontation stems, not from virtue, but fear. Their dodging of disagreement is not the budding fruit of the Spirit, but rather the fear of man. Still, they dress their cowardice in cloaks of kindness and virtue.

Genuine Christian virtue looks much different.

Believers, bearing the fruit of the Spirit, do hard things and engage in difficult conversations, not because they cherish contention, but because it is loving and God-honoring.

Read More