There are literally hundreds of fun ways to do this, and it offers tremendous advantages.  For one, it’s interactive, inviting the other person to participate in dialogue. It’s a good tactic to use at work, too, because no “preaching” is involved.  The Columbo tactic allows you to make good headway without actually stating your case.  More importantly, a carefully placed question shifts the burden of proof to the other person where it often belongs.

Have you ever taken a verbal beating when trying to talk about Jesus? If so, I’ve got a tip for you.  It’s the simplest tactic imaginable to help stop a challenger in his tracks, turn the tables, and put you back in the driver’s seat.  And it can be done almost effortlessly.  Here’s an example.

Once in a restaurant in Seattle, I got into a chat about religion with the waitress.  My comments were all met with an approving nod until I said, “When it comes to religion, people believe a lot of very foolish things.”  Then a shadow of disapproval crossed her face.“That’s an oppressive view, not letting people believe what they want to believe.”

Now, much can be said about this simple remark.  For example, did you notice how just challenging a view was seen as a threat to personal liberty, a “forcing” of my beliefs on others?  I ignored that problem, though, and zeroed in on a more fundamental flaw.  I asked a simple question.

“So you’re saying I’m wrong then?”

She balked.  “No…uh, I’m…uh…I’m just trying to understand your view.”

I chuckled.  “Be honest; admit it.  You think I’m wrong, oppressive.  If I’m not wrong, then why are you correcting me?”

It was clear that even she believed some people were wrong (me, in this case).  Like many who espouse this confused sense of tolerance, though, the waitress couldn’t play by her own rules. I tried to clarify.“Listen, either Jesus is the Messiah or He isn’t, right?” I asked.  She nodded agreement.  So far, so good.  “If He isn’t the Messiah, then the Christians are wrong.  If He is the Messiah, then the Jews are wrong.  So one way or another somebody’s right and somebody’s wrong.  Right?  Everyone can’t be right at the same time, can they?”

It was a simple question that gently boxed her in.  Her only response:  “All religions are basically the same, after all.”  This comment was a direct contradiction to what she had just agreed to.  I suspect it was a stock retort.

In response, I asked another question, “Oh?  In what way?”

Those four words had a remarkable effect on her.  Her jaw fell slack and her face went blank.  She didn’t know what to say. She had obviously never looked closely at other religions.  If she had, she’d have known they were worlds apart.  Why did she say all religions were the same, then?  I suspect she’d gotten away with it many times before.

After stumbling around a bit, she offered up a diversion:  “Well, no one can ever know the truth about religion.”

This is another assertion that should never go unchallenged, so I calmly asked, “Why would you believe a thing like that?”

The turn-about caught her by surprise. The waitress was used to asking this question, not answering it.  I was violating the rules and she wasn’t prepared for the change in roles.  I waited patiently, not breaking the silence, not letting her off the hook.

Finally she ventured an odd response, considering my question. “The Bible’s been changed and retranslated so many times over the centuries.”

This was another dodge, having nothing to do with the issue.  Even if the Bible vanished from the face of the earth, some knowledge of God would still be possible, in principle.

But I chose a different tack.  “Oh?  Have you actually studied the transmission of the text the Bible?”

Once again, the question stalled her for a moment.  “No, I’ve never studied it.”  It was a remarkable admission, given her confident assertion just moments before, but she didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

I didn’t have the heart to say what I might have in a case like this: “Then what you’re saying is you’re sure about something you really know nothing about.”  Instead, I simply said I’d studied Bible transmission extensively, assured her that the academic results were in, and the biblical manuscripts had not been corrupted over time..

One by one her options evaporated and she began to get uncomfortable. “I feel like you’re backing me into a corner,” she complained.

I wasn’t trying to bully her intellectually, but rather challenge her politely with fair questions.  She was beginning to feel trapped because that’s what careful questioning does: It boxes you in by eliminating foolish options.

A Tip from Lt. Columbo

This was the tactic of Lieutenant Columbo, the bumbling and seemingly inept TV detective whose remarkable success was based on an innocent query: “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

The key to this tactic is to go on the offensive by dismantling another person’s viewpoint with carefully selected questions.  The tactic can be played out Columbo style—halting, head-scratching, and apparently harmless—or pursued more aggressively, like a lawyer in a courtroom.

“Columbo” is most powerful if you have a plan of attack.  Generally when I ask a question I have a goal in mind.  I’m alerted to some weakness, flaw, or contradiction in another’s view that I want to expose in a disarming way.

There are literally hundreds of fun ways to do this, and it offers tremendous advantages.  For one, it’s interactive, inviting the other person to participate in dialogue. It’s a good tactic to use at work, too, because no “preaching” is involved.  The Columbo tactic allows you to make good headway without actually stating your case.  More importantly,  a carefully placed question shifts the burden of proof to the other person where it often belongs.

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