1. Remember, People Aren’t Starting at Zero.
When we enter into a conversation about faith, we often assume the other person is a blank slate, or worse, that they are simply “misinformed.” But no one enters these conversations empty-handed. Everyone carries a lifetime of experiences, memories, hopes, disappointments and a thousand small but formative moments. People are always learning how to build a worldview based on how they are interpreting the world.
And, this is important, they’re not the only ones with bias. We have our own stories. Our own filters. Our own reinforced beliefs. Every time we skim a headline, nod along with a sermon, scroll our preferred news feed, or repeat something a trusted voice said, our worldview is reinforced without us even noticing. So when two people sit down to talk about God, justice, suffering, meaning or Scripture, what’s happening is not the exchange of raw facts. It is, quite literally, two completely different stories trying to get on the same page.
Proverbs 20:5 suddenly becomes clearer: “The purposes of a person’s heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out.” Someone’s beliefs (or unbeliefs) are not surface-level decisions. They are rooted in lived experience, pain, questions, identity and hope. As are yours. To engage someone lovingly is not to stand in the shallows and offer answers. It is to patiently wade into the depths of their story.
2. Ask a Core Question.
In The Doubters’ Club training we teach people to carry one core question into every conversation. A core question is something your mind returns to when the conversation becomes tense or confusing. A question that slows the heartbeat and opens up the room. Practically, it does two things:
• Genuinely increases curiosity
• Doesn’t compromise your values
Here’s an example of a core question: “What’s the story behind that belief?”
Say someone tells you they don’t trust the church. Instead of defending the church, trying to separate “institutional Christianity” from “Jesus,” or explaining how “not all churches are like that,” you return to your core question. It’s something we see Jesus do often.
In Mark 10 Jesus is walking with a crowd, important things are happening, and a blind man named Bartimaeus is shouting for his attention. Everyone else is annoyed, but Jesus stops. Instead of assuming he knows what the man needs (which he clearly did), he asks a question: “What do you want me to do for you?” That one question did more than gather information. That question restored dignity. It said, “Your desire matters here. Your story belongs in this conversation.”
A core question in spiritual conversations does the same thing. It shifts the moment from talking about someone to engaging with them. Not to trap them. Not to lead them where we already want to go. But to discover the person behind the belief. Over the years I’ve learned that real transformation doesn’t begin with answers. It begins with being seen, heard and taken seriously.
It’s the difference between: “Let me show you where you’re wrong” and “Help me understand how you got there.”
One shuts the door. The other opens it.