2. God (more specifically, his spokespeople)
If you’ve ever talked to someone who’s skeptical about God, chances are their doubt isn’t abstract; it’s personal. It’s tethered to hypocrisy. To hurt. To a pastor’s betrayal or a church’s silence when it mattered most. Maybe even to your own story.
We tend to patch those wounds with quick fixes: “Most churches are good” or “Think of all the good Christianity has done.” But that logic would never fly anywhere else. You can tell them about the hospitals built in Jesus’ name, but it doesn’t erase the Crusades that were, too. You can point to changed lives, but it won’t undo the abuse justified from pulpits.
So yes, I side with the skeptics here. When someone says “God told me …” I wince. Those words carry the same weight as Scripture in the ears of those listening, and that’s a terrifying kind of power.
As someone who has been credentialed with a Pentecostal fellowship, I still bring this critique from within. History shows us that speaking for God rarely heals the world, but it can easily wound it beyond recognition. The poor have been fed and enemies killed by the same name. And as much as we’d like to think those days are behind us, they’re not. Not yet.
The Work of Listening
Once we recognize that these two topics demand a new approach, it transforms the very terrain of our relationships. Suddenly, conversations that once felt impossible are full of possibility. And here is the critical point: If the soil of a human heart is wounded, you don’t start with planting seeds. You tend the soil. You acknowledge where it’s tender. You treat it with care. Not only should we change how we talk about the above topics, but also how we listen. And that’s where the real work begins.
Over the years, through The Doubters’ Club, I’ve learned that there are three things a person must keep in mind if they want to lovingly engage with someone who believes differently than they do. None of these are complicated, but all of them are costly.