Argument

Nothing gets me going like a good argument. I just love to argue. Let’s find something we disagree about–no matter how minute–and let’s duke it out.

I imagine my family tired of it on occasion–but they accepted that I enjoyed verbal sparring and they engaged me on that level.

Daniel used to needle me by taking a masochistic stance–which I would return with a feminist point of view. (Don’t freak out here–my feminism is of quite a different breed than this world’s.)

Timmy’ll suggest that Marx had a point and we’ll argue over economics and politics and the running of nations.

Dad and I will find some way to argue our two sides of the predestination/free will debate (I’m a hair more Calvinist than he.)

In early high school, I was part of an online community of homeschoolers. Some people frequented the just-for-fun type message boards, but I hung out almost exclusively in the debate board. We argued free will and predestination, creation and evolution, age of the earth, contraceptive use (there were quiverfulls among us), politics, abortion, and whether Christians should celebrate Christmas. I was in my element.

In my senior year of high school, I did a one year Bible program because I’d already finished my high school requirements. One of my classmates liked arguing as much as I so we’d argue with each other or play tag-team as we argued with a teacher. Eschatology, election, the role of the church–these were some of our favorite topics. And we argued them with vigor.

Arguing invigorates me. It makes me feel alive. My mind is active, my mouth (or keyboard) is active. I’m engaging the topic. I’m thinking as I’m speaking. There’s nothing that can put a spring in my step like a good argument.

But somewhere along the way, I learned that many people aren’t like me. They don’t like to argue. They don’t like to disagree. They don’t see arguing as a mental game, an exercise for the brain. They see it as a battle, an attack on who they are and what they believe.

Or sometimes they like to argue–but not for arguments sake. They are convinced that their view is the only correct view and nothing will change their mind. What’s more–they’re awfully bent on changing my mind. Which often means that they won’t actually engage my ideas–they just fire off with their own.

I’ve learned this of other people and it has pushed me underground as an arguer. I don’t want to attack people. I don’t want them to think I’m a bad person because I disagree with them either. So I keep quiet about certain controversial subjects. I try not to provoke too many arguments.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t still love to argue. I still love a good argument–especially one with Scripture references and proof-texts flying back and forth.

But since I’ve realized that others’ attitudes towards arguments differ from my own, I’ve tried to be really selective as to who I argue with. I try to only argue with people who see it as a mental workout, as I do–people who recognize the inner Irenic (peacemaker) amidst the outer Polemic (fighter).

But then, every so often, I’ll start arguing with someone, and when I’m done, I’ll wonder “Did that get taken the right way?”

Did I read that person wrong when I thought they liked this as much as I?

Did I misestimate the depth of their feeling or attachment to this topic, such that my challenge might be seen as an attack?

Did I misjudge this person when I figured they would understand that I agree with them even as I’m disagreeing?

Because I only argue with people I respect. I only disagree with people I agree with. I only argue with people I care about and admire.

But what if they don’t know that and misinterpret my argumentation?

What if, in doing what I so enjoy, I hurt a dear brother or sister? What then?

And what am I to do with Paul’s admonition to Titus?

“But avoid foolish disputes, genealogies, contentions, and strivings about the law; for they are unprofitable and useless. Reject a divisive man after the first and second admonition, knowing that such a person is warped and sinning, being self-condemned.”
Titus 3:9-11

Is that what I do, who I am when I argue? Do I argue in an unprofitable and useless way? Am I divisive, warped, and sinning in loving argument?

Do I major on minors and let petty things become points of contention?

I don’t know. I don’t know.

But I so love it when someone challenges me and we can mentally and verbally spar. I just want to be sure that in doing so, I am encouraging them (as arguing so often encourages me) rather than tearing them down. I want to be sure that I’m bringing them life (as I feel more alive in the midst of a good argument) rather than bringing them death. I want to be sure that I’m demonstrating my respect for them (as I feel respected when someone engages my mind) instead of making them feel disrespected. I just wish I could be sure.

But I can’t. And that’s what worries me.