We conservative evangelicals need each other. The challenges before us are just too big. We really can’t be what God has called us to be on our own. Our future should really be together. The stewarding of the gospel in our time demands it.

However, our future is also very tied to our ability to get on with one another. We need a very good capacity to navigate internal disagreements. Above all, we need a deep resistance to fracture and splintering. Some might feel that this is unproblematic. After all, we have the gospel of God, and one would’ve thought that that was enough to overcome any difficulties. Things are, though, a bit more complicated.

For a start, disagreement is built into the very nature of evangelicalism. We believe in gospel centrality, but also accept a level of disagreement. That introduces a tension that can bubble away, and, in the right circumstances, quickly explode in debate. Today, for example, we’re facing difficult questions about race and ‘wokeness’, concupiscence and sexuality, how to deal with the Church of England, music and singing, complementarianism, and different views of preaching etc. These are hardly unimportant issues – and they need to be thought through. The challenges here aren’t, though, just about an inherent tension within evangelicalism. The fact is that, on these controversial issues, we may well find people within the same denomination, who otherwise might agree on many things, also disagreeing over debated questions. A number of years ago the Reformed theologian, John Frame, wrote ‘Machen’s Warrior Children’. In this well-known article, he outlined how conservative Presbyterians in the US, who enjoy very tight confessional standards, had destructively fought each other over a whole range of contested issues. Disagreements are inevitable, whatever our denominational loyalties, or theological starting points.

Now, please don’t misunderstand me. I am definitely not saying that debate is a bad thing. Disagreement is certainly not fatal, nor is some controversy bad. We should not demand uniformity. Moreover, differences can be creative, instructive and edifying for everyone. However, the question is how to avoid disagreements becoming self-destructive internecine warfare. Controversies aren’t fatal, but they easily foment strife and harsh words amongst the best of us. Disagreement quickly escalates into a breakdown of trust and mutual condemnation. This should obviously deeply concern us because we need each other. How can I, leader or lay person, avoid potential evangelical implosion and civil war?

1. I should watch my heart. I need to study my heart, and not simply the issues I’m debating. There is, after all, no point in winning others to the truth, but then losing my soul in the process. It’s always good for me to ask myself what a debate is really about. How much of this is just my pride, the need to be right or a desire to win an argument? As I engage in this discussion, am I teachable, humble and willing to be corrected? Am I willing to admit error, or do I see myself as everyone’s teacher? What looks to me like a righteous cause may actually be the overflow of a self-righteous heart.

2. I should moderate my tone. It’s all too easy to take on the mantle of a prophet, letting an authoritative tone outrun wisdom, and clarity outrun compassion. The way I speak to another itself creates a culture and breeds a mood. A gentle answer really does break a bone, and a soft answer will assuage wrath (Prov. 25:15). I need to learn the discipline of dealing gently for Christ’s sake.

3. I should desire peace. Peacemaking is not a papering over of differences, nor an insecure need for everyone to get on, but a very useful container for debate. It is a protective barrier that hinders escalation. It’s clean air pumped into a toxic atmosphere. The mindset of peace restrains my strength and drive to debate.

4. I mustn’t become a professional pugilist. Is my joy in the controversy, or in Christ? I need to face the fact that what might look like godly contending may simply be my own enjoyment of contentiousness. The words of Faramir in Lord of the Rings are very convicting: ‘I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.’ We love Luther, but let’s not get stuck in a Luther-only style of discourse. Maybe we can also channel our inner John Stott, or Tim Keller?

5. I can avoid tribalism. One telling, and frequent, description of UK evangelicalism from both insiders, and outsiders, is that we are ‘tribalistic’. Whatever the truth of that, we are certainly perceived as a bit awkward, rigid and unwilling to work with each other. This isn’t helped by unnecessary debates that build the walls in the wrong places. I need to work against this. Christ is not a tribal leader, but the Lord of all.

6. I need to remember total depravity. No matter who is right or wrong, one thing is always true in any disagreement: all of us involved are real life, natural-born sinners whose only hope is sovereign grace. If I contribute any thoughtful insights, or spiritual clarity, to the discussion, this is all by grace alone. None of us involved have eyes to see until we are given them from above. This should get us all off our pedestals, and put us all on our knees as we discuss.

7. I need an eye to the consequences. It’s all too easy to go into a debate fixated on the issues, and completely forget the impact such a debate will have on relationships and partnerships. Polarising debates entrench positions. Words can’t be easily retracted. Relationships are soured. We all know the pain and demoralising nature of conflict. The after-effects can affect more than we ever anticipate. I should be slow to move into debate. Some disagreements are needed, some are plain foolish and some could be avoided if we dealt with each other differently. As much as it depends on me, and is good for the gospel, I should live at peace with all.

8. I must do to others as I would have them do to me. It is just very striking how Christ’s own law is so practical and instructive in this. I must deal with others as I would want to be dealt with if I had fallen into some error. I know what I would, or wouldn’t respond to, and so it makes sense to approach others similarly. Sanctified empathy with the reactions of others to my words may hinder many foolish words.

9. I must look to Christ. We would all do well to remember Christ-in-the-people-I-am-critiquing. If they are in error, I should remember that Christ died for them nevertheless. He didn’t withhold His blood for their sake, and I shouldn’t withhold my graciousness, gentleness and mercy either. It is sobering to think that the way I treat this brother or sister is how I treat Christ, and I will be held accountable. If they have gone off on a wrong path, then I should deal with them as the Shepherd does, gently leading them back to paths of righteousness.

Today, we conservative evangelicals don’t need our own version of ‘Machen’s warrior children’. What we do need are wise, engaged, loving leaders who will contend for the gospel, but also restrain themselves from needless confrontation. We’re facing huge obstacles in our current moment. The Church of England is in meltdown over sexual ethics. The culture is in meltdown over how to define a human being and the value of life. International relations are in meltdown over Ukraine, Israel and Taiwan. There is something of a spiritual leadership meltdown as we reel from years of scandals. We face many challenges, and none of us know what will be coming round the corner. But two things are certain in all of this: we need Christ and we need each other. How we deal with one another going forward will inevitably define the future of our partnerships. We will need to be careful with one another, to maintain the bond of peace, and to promote our mutual partnership in the gospel. Let’s stick together, and love one another, so that the United Kingdom can be reached in the generations to come.