FIGHT THE RIGHT FIGHT: Why Winning Arguments Can Still Cost You Souls
When the Wrong Fight Leaves You Exhausted
Over the last few years, I’ve noticed something troubling in the Church. We seem angry.
Not burdened.
Not brokenhearted.
Not moved with compassion.
Angry.
Scroll through social media for five minutes and you’ll see it. Turn on cable news and you’ll see it. Sit through a family gathering during election season and you’ll definitely see it. Everybody is fighting. Christians are fighting culture. Culture is fighting Christians. Families are fighting families. Friends are fighting friends. Everybody seems to be carrying a sword, and very few people seem to be carrying a towel.
The longer I watch it, the more convinced I become that many of us are exhausted because we’re spending our energy fighting the wrong battles. The tragedy isn’t that we’re fighting. Men were made to fight. God wired us to contend, protect, stand firm, and lead courageously. The tragedy is that we’re fighting people when Jesus called us to rescue people.
That’s why Jude 23 has become one of the most important verses in my life. “Rescue others by snatching them from the flames of judgment.” That’s the mission. Not winning arguments. Not embarrassing opponents. Not owning somebody online. Rescue. And the more I read the Gospels, the more I realize Jesus never seemed interested in defeating people. He was interested in redeeming them. That’s a very different fight.
“The tragedy is that we’re fighting people when Jesus called us to rescue people.”
The Problem Isn’t That We’re Fighting
I spend a lot of time around men. Whether it’s church, leadership gatherings, conferences, coaching conversations, or simply sitting across a table from someone over coffee, I keep seeing the same pattern. Many men feel like they’re on the front lines every day. They’re defending truth, defending their values, defending their families, and defending what they believe is right. On the surface, that sounds noble. And in many ways it is. Truth matters. Convictions matter. Biblical values matter.
But somewhere along the way, many followers of Jesus have drifted from rescuing people to battling people. The mission shifted without us even noticing. We became more passionate about proving a point than saving a person. More committed to being right than being redemptive. More focused on winning debates than winning hearts. And when that happens, something important gets lost.
Because culture wars may feel important, but soul rescue actually is.
Culture wars are loud.
Rescue work is personal.
Culture wars happen at a distance.
Rescue requires proximity.
You can fight culture without ever loving a person. You cannot rescue a person without getting close enough to know their story.
That’s what Jesus did over and over again. While everyone else was avoiding certain people, Jesus was moving toward them. Tax collectors. Sinners. Outcasts. The forgotten. The rejected. The people everyone else had already written off. Jesus didn’t love people from a distance. He moved toward them. And rescuers still do.
The Day God Thew A Haymaker At My Soul
A while back, I found myself getting frustrated with someone. Not someone at Pantano. Not someone on our staff. Just a local leader I crossed paths with from time to time. If I’m honest, I’d gotten into the habit of dismissing him. More than once I caught myself saying, “That guy is an idiot.”
Maybe you’ve done something similar. Maybe not out loud, but in your mind. You’ve reduced someone to a label. A political label. A cultural label. A personality label. A mistake they’ve made. A position they hold. A decision they keep repeating. The problem is that once we label people, we stop seeing them. And once we stop seeing them, compassion begins to disappear.
As I reflected on that, I felt convicted. Because Jesus never looked at people the way I was looking at that person. Jesus saw beyond labels. He saw beyond behavior. He saw beyond the presenting issue. Jesus always seemed to see what people could become instead of only focusing on what they currently were.
That’s one of the things that amazes me most about Him. He saw the prostitute, but He also saw a daughter. He saw the tax collector, but He also saw a disciple. He saw the thief, but He also saw a future citizen of heaven. Jesus never confused people with their problem. I want to become more like that.
“Jesus always seemed to see what people could become instead of only focusing on what they currently were.”
How Christians Lose Credibility
Let’s be honest about something. Christians didn’t lose credibility because we believe truth. We lost credibility because of how we’ve often delivered it. Too often harshness replaced humility. Certainty replaced curiosity. Outrage replaced compassion. And many Christians became known more for what they’re against than what they’re for.
That’s a problem because people rarely care what you know until they believe you care about them. I’ve seen people win debates and lose relationships. I’ve watched Christians prove a point and push someone farther from Jesus in the process. I’ve seen truth delivered without grace, and instead of sounding like hope, it sounded like condemnation.
The Gospel is truth. But it’s truth wrapped in grace. It’s truth wrapped in mercy. It’s truth wrapped in the love of a Savior who came close enough to rescue us.
There’s Usually a Something Behind the Something
Several years ago, I had someone walk into my office who was angry. Really angry. They came ready for a fight. At least that’s what it seemed like at first. Everything in me wanted to defend myself. Everything in me wanted to explain. Everything in me wanted to respond.
Instead, I remembered the wisdom of Scripture that says a gentle answer turns away wrath. So I listened. And the longer I listened, the more I realized that the issue they were talking about wasn’t actually the issue. There was something underneath it. There was hurt beneath the anger. Fear beneath the frustration. Pain beneath the conflict.
Eventually we got to the real issue, and when we did, everything changed. That’s one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned in leadership. There’s often a something behind the something. And you’ll never discover it if you’re too busy trying to win.
I’ve experienced the same thing with people who disagree with me on politics, faith, culture, and just about every controversial issue you can imagine. When I stop trying to win and start trying to understand, the temperature changes. Not because I’ve compromised truth. Because I’ve communicated respect. People listen differently when they know they’re being treated like human beings.
“There’s often a something behind the something. And you’ll never discover it if you’re too busy trying to win.”
Standing on Issues and Walking with People
One of my friends, Carlos Whittaker, says something I’ve never forgotten: “We stand on issues, but we walk with people.” That’s such a needed reminder right now. You don’t have to compromise truth to love people. You don’t have to abandon conviction to show compassion. You don’t have to surrender biblical values to extend dignity.
Jesus never compromised truth. Not once. But people who disagreed with Him still wanted to be around Him. Why? Because they knew He was for them. That’s what rescue requires: trust, relationship, and dignity. People listen differently when they know they’re loved.
Jesus Fought for Us
The greatest example of fighting the right fight is Jesus Himself. Jesus spoke truth clearly. He confronted sin directly. But He never treated broken people as enemies. In fact, He moved toward them. The woman caught in adultery. The tax collector hiding in a tree. The Samaritan woman at the well. The thief hanging beside Him on a cross. The leper nobody else would touch.
Jesus fought for them. And ultimately, He fought for us.
The Gospel is the story of a Savior who refused to see us as enemies and instead chose to rescue us. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. He entered our mess. He carried our sin. He took our punishment. He endured the cross. He walked out of the grave. And He did it because rescue was worth the cost.
Jesus didn’t come to win an argument. He came to save people. If Jesus fought for us when we were far from Him, how can we refuse to fight for people who are far from Him today?
Fight for People
As I’ve reflected on this, I’ve started asking myself a different question. Not, “Who am I frustrated with?” but, “Who am I called to fight for?” That’s a better question.
Maybe it’s someone you disagree with.
Maybe it’s someone you’ve dismissed.
Maybe it’s someone you’ve quietly written off.
Maybe it’s someone you’ve labeled.
What would happen if you changed your posture? What would happen if you listened before speaking? What would happen if you sought understanding before winning? What would happen if you viewed them as someone Jesus died for rather than someone you needed to defeat?
Because rescue only happens when people know you’re for them, not against them.
One day we’ll stand before Jesus, and I don’t think He’s going to ask how many arguments we won online. I don’t think He’s going to ask how effectively we embarrassed people who disagreed with us. I don’t think He’s going to ask how many cultural battles we dominated. I think He’s going to care about whether we helped rescue people.
Did we move toward the broken? Did we love the difficult? Did we fight for the lost? Did we point people toward Jesus?
Church, let’s stop wasting our energy fighting the wrong battles. Let’s fight for marriages. Let’s fight for families. Let’s fight for prodigals. Let’s fight for our cities. Let’s fight for our neighbors. Let’s fight for the people Jesus died to save.
Let’s walk to the edge of hell and pull people out. Let’s get close enough to the fire that our lives carry the unmistakable scent of God’s rescue mission.
Because rescuers don’t fight against people. Rescuers fight for people. And rescuers always smell like smoke.