Can a person be argued into the kingdom of God?
Two men hear the exact same defense of Christianity. One walks away transformed, ready to give his life to Christ. The other? Completely unmoved. Some Christians respond to this by saying 'Just keep arguing until they believe!' Others insist 'Never argue, only share your testimony!' But both miss something crucial about how God actually draws people to Himself. Today, we're uncovering what's really happening when someone comes to faith - and why conversion is a mystery that's bigger than any argument, yet often involves careful reasoning.
Welcome back to Word for Word, I'm Austin Duncan, and today we're tackling one of the most fascinating tensions in Christian evangelism. If you've ever shared your faith with someone, you've probably wondered: How much of this depends on my arguments? How much depends on God? And why does the same conversation that transforms one person leave another completely cold?
I’ve sat across from people before laying out what I thought was an open and shut case for Christianity. I had my historical evidence lined up, my philosophical arguments polished, my answers to common objections memorized. After the discussion, I’ve been looked at me and told, "That's interesting, but I still don't believe it." Meanwhile, I’ve had friends just simply share their testimony (people who could barely articulate theology), and people come to Christ. What's going on here? This question isn't just academic. It affects how we approach evangelism, how we prepare to share our faith, and how we understand the very nature of conversion itself. Are we wasting our time studying apologetics? Should we abandon arguments altogether and just pray? Or is there something more nuanced happening when someone comes to faith?
The apostle Paul gives us a beautiful picture of this in 1 Corinthians 3:6 when he says,
"I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow."
There’s a wonderful balance of human action and divine power working together in this one sentence. Paul planted. Apollos watered. But only God could make it grow. That's what we're exploring today.
Understanding Conversion
Let's start with something that might surprise you: The Bible never presents conversion as something we can accomplish through human effort alone. Jesus Himself said in John 6:44,
"No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws him."
Think about that for a moment. No one can come unless drawn. That's a pretty strong statement. Paul doubles down on this in 1 Corinthians 2:14 when he writes,
"The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God."
Why? Because they're foolishness to him. He can't understand them because they're spiritually discerned things. In other words, there's a spiritual blindness that logic alone doesn’t penetrate. But the Bible also consistently calls people to respond. Romans 10:9-10 describes the moment of confession:
"If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved."
That sounds like human action, doesn't it? And 1 Peter 3:15 commands us to
"always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have."
So which is it? Is conversion God's work or our response? The answer is... yes. Both. It's not either-or, it's both-and. Think of it like breathing - is breathing something you do, or something that happens to you? Well, you actively breathe, but you're also dependent on air being there to breathe. You can't create the air, but you must inhale it. Conversion is similar - we respond, but only because God enables that response.
The Journey vs. The Moment
We often think of conversion as a single moment - that dramatic Damascus Road experience where everything changes in an instant. And for some people, it absolutely is. But Scripture shows us that for many, perhaps most, conversion is both a moment and a process. Just look to the disciples. They followed Jesus for three years, and they still didn't fully get it until after the resurrection. Peter made his great confession that Jesus was the Christ, then immediately tried to stop Him from going to the cross. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus had walked with Jesus, heard His teaching, seen His miracles, and they still didn't recognize Him until He broke bread with them.
One researcher studying conversion stories found that while some people experience that sudden "aha" moment (what we might call a Romans 10:9 experience) many others describe their faith unfolding gradually over time. It's more like Romans 12:2's "renewing of your mind" - a progressive transformation rather than an instant change. I love how one pastor put it: "Conversion is like a birth - there's definitely a moment when the baby is born, but there's been nine months of development before that moment, and there will be years of growth after it." Some people can tell you the exact date and time they were saved. Others can't pinpoint the moment, but they know they once were blind and now they see.
The Web of Influences
Research into conversion stories reveals that people come to faith through a complex web of influences. It's rarely just one thing. Think about your own story if you're a believer, or the stories of people you know. Was it really just one conversation, one book, one argument that did it? Usually, it's more like this: Maybe you had a grandmother who prayed for you. A friend who lived out their faith authentically. You went through a crisis that made you question your worldview. You encountered a book that answered some intellectual questions. You walked into a church and felt something you couldn't explain. You had a conversation that removed a barrier you didn't even know was there. All of these factors work together.
One study found that the most common reason people don't believe isn't actually lack of facts or arguments, it's lack of experiential knowledge of God. They've never sensed His presence, never felt that internal witness of the Spirit. You can't argue someone into experiencing God's presence. But, and this is important, you can remove intellectual barriers that prevent them from being open to that experience. Think of it like this: Imagine someone has built a wall around their heart, brick by brick. Some bricks are intellectual ("Science disproves God"), some are emotional ("Christians hurt me"), some are moral ("I don't want to give up my lifestyle"), and some are spiritual ("I'm my own god"). Arguments might remove the intellectual bricks. Love might remove the emotional ones. But only the Holy Spirit can deal with that spiritual blindness at the core.
The Holy Spirit's Essential Role
This brings us to the irreplaceable role of the Holy Spirit in conversion. Acts 26:18 talks about opening blind eyes. 1 Corinthians 2:10-14 explains that the Spirit reveals what we could never understand on our own. The Spirit doesn't ask people to believe what's absurd or irrational - He illuminates what's true so they can see it. We can make the watchmaker argument all day long, we can present historical evidence for the resurrection until we're blue in the face, we can give brilliant philosophical proofs for God's existence, but we must trust God's power of salvation, not our power of persuasion.
But that doesn't mean our arguments are useless. God often uses our words as the means through which the Spirit works. Remember, faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God (Romans 10:17). The Spirit uses truth proclaimed to awaken dead hearts. Our job is to faithfully present truth; His job is to make it come alive in someone's heart.
Barriers to Faith: Why Smart People Don't Always Believe
Now let's talk about why people don't believe, because understanding the barriers helps us know how to address them. We tend to categorize these barriers into neat boxes - intellectual, emotional, moral, and spiritual - but in reality, they're usually tangled together like Christmas lights in the attic.
Intellectual Barriers: When the Mind Says No
Let's start with intellectual barriers because these are often the most visible. Someone says, "I can't believe in God because of science," or "The Bible is full of contradictions," or "How can a good God allow suffering?" These are real questions that deserve real answers.
But here's what I've learned after years of these conversations: The intellectual objection on the surface often isn't the real issue. It's like when your spouse says, "You never help with the dishes," but what they really mean is, "I don't feel valued." The presenting issue isn't always the real issue.
I think about a conversation I had with "Joe" - not his real name - who was a hardcore nihilist. He had this elaborate philosophical framework for why life was meaningless. We could debate philosophy all day long, but the real issue? His dad had abandoned the family when he was twelve, and he'd built this entire worldview to protect himself from ever hoping for anything again. The intellectual arguments were real, but they were also armor.
Or consider "Susan" - again, not her real name - who embraced atheism after growing up in a legalistic church and losing her best friend to cancer. She had all these scientific arguments against God, but underneath was a heart that whispered, "If God exists, He's not good, because look what He let happen." Her intellectual objections were genuine, but they grew from soil of pain.
This doesn't mean we dismiss intellectual questions - not at all. We need to take them seriously and provide thoughtful answers. But we also need to recognize that behind every intellectual question is a person with a story, with experiences, with fears and hopes and wounds that shape how they see the world.
Moral Barriers: When the Will Says No
Then there are moral barriers, and these are trickier because people don't always want to admit them. Sometimes the barrier to faith isn't "I can't believe" but "I don't want to believe because I'd have to change."
I remember talking with a successful businessman who kept raising intellectual objections to Christianity. We went round and round on various arguments, and finally, in a moment of honesty, he said, "Look, even if you could prove Christianity is true, I'm not sure I'd want it to be true. I've built my whole life on being in control. I don't know if I can hand that control to anyone else, even God."
That's refreshing honesty, isn't it? At least he could admit it. Many can't or won't. They'll keep throwing up intellectual smokescreens because it's easier than saying, "I like my life the way it is, and I don't want God messing with it."
C.S. Lewis understood this. Before his conversion, he described himself as "the most reluctant convert in all of England." He could see Christianity was true intellectually, but he didn't want it to be true. He fought it tooth and nail until finally, as he put it, he "gave in and admitted that God was God."
The moral barrier isn't always about obvious sin, by the way. Sometimes it's about pride - the inability to admit we need saving. Sometimes it's about control - the fear of surrendering our autonomy. Sometimes it's about identity - we've built our whole sense of self on being a skeptic, a free thinker, our own person, and faith would mean reconstructing our entire identity.
Emotional Barriers: When the Heart Says No
Emotional barriers might be the most powerful of all. You can win every argument and still lose the person if their heart is closed. Pain, disappointment, betrayal - these create walls that logic can't always penetrate.
Think about "Matt" from one of the conversion studies. As a child, he watched his mother die slowly from illness while his father prayed desperately for healing that never came. He built his atheism not primarily on intellectual grounds but on the emotional conviction that "God is not good." All his rational arguments were really just scaffolding built around that wounded heart.
I've sat with people who were hurt by the church, betrayed by Christian leaders, or damaged by toxic theology. They have a visceral reaction to Christianity that has nothing to do with whether it's true and everything to do with their experience of Christians. As the saying goes, "They don't care how much you know until they know how much you care."
Sometimes the emotional barrier is fear. Fear of rejection by family if they convert. Fear of losing their community. Fear of the unknown. Fear that if Christianity is true, they'll have to face things about themselves they'd rather avoid. Fear that God might be like the harsh father they grew up with or the judgmental church that condemned them.
These emotional barriers require something different than arguments. They require patience, compassion, and often, time for healing. You can't argue someone out of pain. But you can love them through it. You can be the kind of Christian who makes them reconsider what Christianity might actually be about.
Spiritual Barriers: The Root of Resistance
Finally, and most fundamentally, there are spiritual barriers. Jesus said it plainly in John 3:19-20: "People loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed."
This is the deepest level of resistance - not intellectual, not emotional, not even moral in the ordinary sense, but spiritual. There's an enmity toward God in the fallen human heart. We want to be our own gods. We want to write our own rules, create our own meaning, be our own saviors.
This spiritual blindness can't be overcome by human effort alone. You can remove every intellectual objection, heal every emotional wound, address every moral concern, and still face this fundamental spiritual resistance that only the Holy Spirit can overcome.
But here's the beautiful thing - God specializes in breaking through spiritual blindness. Saul of Tarsus was spiritually blind, literally and figuratively, until God knocked him off his horse. The Philippian jailer was spiritually blind until an earthquake shook his prison and his heart. Lydia was spiritually blind until "the Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul's message" (Acts 16:14).
Notice that phrase - "the Lord opened her heart." Paul was preaching, using words and arguments and persuasion, but it was the Lord who opened the heart. Both-and, not either-or.
The Role of Apologetics: Clearing the Path
So if only God can open blind eyes and change hearts, why bother with apologetics at all? Why study arguments and evidence? Why learn to defend the faith? Isn't it all just dependent on the Holy Spirit anyway?
This is where we need to think carefully about what apologetics actually does. Think of apologetics like a snowplow. A snowplow doesn't transport people to their destination - cars do that. But if the road is blocked with snow, the car can't get through. The snowplow clears the path so the journey can happen.
Apologetics clears away intellectual obstacles that might prevent someone from considering the gospel. It doesn't save anyone - only the gospel does that, and only when the Spirit applies it to the heart. But it can remove barriers that keep people from even listening to the gospel.
Removing Obstacles: Making Room for Faith
Kenneth Samples puts it well when he says apologetics "has a close connection to evangelism by attempting to remove intellectual obstacles that may stand in the way of a person embracing faith." It's prep work, ground-clearing, foundation-laying.
I think of my friend Marcus, a brilliant engineer who grew up being told that science and faith were incompatible. He literally thought he had to choose between his career and Christianity. When someone showed him that many of history's greatest scientists were Christians, that the scientific method itself arose from a Christian worldview, that you could believe in both God and science - it didn't convert him on the spot, but it removed a huge obstacle. Years later, when he did come to faith, he said that conversation was crucial in making space for him to even consider Christianity.
Or consider Sarah, who thought the Bible was full of contradictions and historical errors. When someone patiently walked through alleged contradictions with her, showing how they could be resolved, explaining how ancient biography worked, demonstrating the historical reliability of the New Testament - again, she didn't convert immediately, but it removed a major barrier. She could no longer dismiss Christianity as "obviously false."
That's what good apologetics does. It takes the "Christianity is irrational" card off the table. It shows that faith isn't intellectual suicide. It demonstrates that you can be a thinking person and a believing person at the same time.
Planting Seeds: Truth That Grows Over Time
But apologetics does more than just remove obstacles - it also plants seeds. Every conversation, every answered question, every thoughtful response plants a seed that may germinate later, sometimes much later.
I love Paul's agricultural metaphor - "I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth." Notice he doesn't say, "I planted and immediately harvested." There's often a time gap between planting and harvesting. Sometimes we plant a seed through an apologetic conversation, someone else waters it through their testimony or friendship, and years later, God brings the growth.
I've had people come up to me years after a conversation and say, "Remember when you explained to me about the historical evidence for the resurrection? I acted like it didn't matter at the time, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was part of what eventually led me to faith." The seed was planted, even though I didn't see immediate fruit.
This should free us from the pressure of having to close the deal in every conversation. We're seed planters and waterers, not the head of the cosmic sales department. Our job is to faithfully scatter truth and trust God with the growth.
Building Bridges: Earning the Right to Be Heard
Apologetics also builds relational bridges. When you take someone's questions seriously, when you engage thoughtfully with their objections instead of dismissing them, when you show respect for their intelligence and sincerity, you build trust. And trust is often the bridge over which the gospel travels.
I think about the apostle Paul in Athens, standing in the Areopagus, quoting Greek poets, acknowledging their altar to an unknown god, meeting them where they were intellectually and culturally. He didn't start by condemning their idolatry. He built a bridge from their worldview to the gospel. Some mocked, yes, but others said, "We want to hear you again on this subject," and some believed.
When we engage apologetically with gentleness and respect, as 1 Peter 3:15 commands, we show that Christianity isn't afraid of questions. We demonstrate that faith isn't fragile, that it can stand up to scrutiny. This builds credibility not just for our arguments but for the faith itself.
Supporting Faith: Strengthening the Church
Here's something we often forget - apologetics isn't just for unbelievers. It's also for strengthening believers. When a young Christian heads off to college and their professor says the Bible is mythology, having some apologetic knowledge can be the difference between a crisis of faith and a deepened faith.
I can't tell you how many times I've had believers come to me with tears in their eyes, saying, "I just learned that many of the earliest scientists were Christians" or "I had no idea there was so much historical evidence for the resurrection" or "I didn't know you could answer that objection!" Apologetics strengthens the church by showing that our faith rests on solid ground.
This is why Paul tells us to "demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God" (2 Corinthians 10:5). It's not just about winning debates - it's about protecting the flock, strengthening faith, and equipping believers to stand firm in a skeptical world.
A Balanced Approach: Head, Heart, and Holy Spirit
So how do we put all this together? How do we engage in apologetics while depending on the Holy Spirit? How do we use arguments without trusting in arguments? How do we balance head and heart, reason and faith, human responsibility and divine sovereignty?
Reasoned Defense with Humility
First, we offer reasoned defense, but always with humility. We present evidence, we answer objections, we make our case - but we never act like we're smarter than the unbeliever or like we have all the answers. Some of the most intelligent people in the world don't believe in God. Intelligence alone doesn't lead to faith.
I love how Tim Keller approached this. He would present powerful arguments for Christianity, but he'd also say things like, "I understand why you find this difficult to believe" or "That's a really good question that Christians have wrestled with for centuries" or "I don't have a perfect answer for that, but here's how I think about it."
This humility isn't weakness - it's strength. It shows we're confident enough in the truth that we don't have to pretend we have everything figured out. It makes us more credible, not less. People can smell arrogance a mile away, and it repels them. But humility? Humility draws people in.
Remember, we're not trying to win arguments - we're trying to win people. Sometimes losing an argument graciously does more for the gospel than winning one arrogantly. As the saying goes, "You can win the argument and lose the soul."
Loving Engagement: Truth in Relationship
Second, we must engage lovingly. First Corinthians 13:1 reminds us that without love, we're just making noise. You can have all the apologetic knowledge in the world, but if people don't sense that you genuinely care about them, it's just clanging cymbals.
This means listening - really listening - not just waiting for your turn to talk. It means asking questions to understand, not just to trap. It means caring about the person's story, their pain, their questions, their journey. As one researcher found, listening carefully "reveals personal issues beneath the surface of intellectual objections."
I think of Jesus with the woman at the well. He could have launched into a theological discourse about proper worship. Instead, He engaged her personally, addressing her real needs, her real questions, her real life. He combined truth with remarkable compassion and personal concern.
When someone raises an objection to Christianity, before we jump into answer mode, we should ask ourselves: Why is this important to them? What's behind this question? What life experience shaped this objection? Sometimes the question "Why do you ask?" is more important than having the perfect answer.
Spirit Dependence: Prayer as Primary
Third, we must maintain absolute dependence on the Holy Spirit. This means prayer isn't something we do in addition to apologetics - it's the foundation of apologetics. We pray before conversations, during conversations (those quick arrow prayers), and after conversations.
We pray for wisdom to know what to say. We pray for the Spirit to open blind eyes. We pray for barriers to fall. We pray for seeds to grow. We pray because we know that unless the Lord builds the house, we labor in vain.
But here's what I've learned - God often answers those prayers by giving us words to say. The Spirit works through our preparation, our study, our arguments. It's not either natural or supernatural - it's both. God uses means. And one of the means He uses is prepared believers who can give reasons for their hope.
One mentor told me, "Study like it all depends on you, then pray like it all depends on God." That's the balance. We do our homework, we prepare our minds, we study the arguments - then we trust the Spirit to use our preparation in ways we never could orchestrate.
Patient Persistence: The Long Game of Faith
Fourth, we must be patient and persistent. Conversion often takes time - sometimes lots of time. The average person hears the gospel multiple times before responding. Some people need to work through intellectual questions for months or years. Others need to see the gospel lived out over time before they can believe it's real.
I think of my friend David, who engaged with a skeptical colleague for five years. Five years of conversations, questions, debates, lunches, friendship. The colleague would raise an objection, David would answer it, and then a new objection would pop up. It felt like intellectual whack-a-mole.
But David kept showing up. He kept answering questions. He kept demonstrating love. He kept praying. And one day, after five years, his colleague said, "I think I'm ready to believe." What changed? "I ran out of excuses," he said. "And I saw something in your life I wanted."
That's patient persistence. Not badgering, not pressuring, just consistently being available, consistently providing answers, consistently demonstrating love, consistently praying. We plant and water, plant and water, trusting God to bring growth in His timing.
Practical Application: Engaging Hearts and Minds
So practically, what does this look like? How do we engage with unbelievers in a way that honors both the intellectual and spiritual dimensions of conversion?
Listen First: Diagnose Before You Prescribe
Always, always, always start by listening. Ask open-ended questions: "What do you think about spiritual things?" "What's been your experience with Christianity?" "What makes it hard for you to believe?" Then actually listen to the answers.
You're listening for several things: What are their actual objections? What's their emotional temperature toward Christianity? What experiences have shaped their view? What are they really asking?
Sometimes people say, "I don't believe in God because of science," but what they mean is, "My dad was a religious hypocrite and I don't want to be like him." Sometimes they say, "The Bible is full of contradictions," but what they mean is, "Christians hurt me and I'm protecting myself."
This doesn't mean every objection is just emotional camouflage - many people have genuine intellectual questions. But listening helps you discern what's really going on so you can respond appropriately. You don't give philosophical arguments to someone who needs to see love. You don't give emotional comfort to someone who needs historical evidence.
Answer Wisely: Respond to the Actual Question
Once you've listened and understood, answer the actual question they're asking, not the one you're prepared for. If they're worried about science and faith, don't launch into the moral argument for God. If they're struggling with suffering, don't start with the cosmological argument.
And here's a crucial tip: You don't have to answer everything in one conversation. In fact, you shouldn't try. Information overload doesn't convert people - it overwhelms them. Give them one thoughtful answer to process rather than ten arguments to juggle.
Also, it's okay to say, "That's a great question. I need to think about that more. Can we talk about it next week?" This shows humility, gives you time to prepare a thoughtful response, and creates an opportunity for ongoing conversation. Some of my best evangelistic relationships started with, "I don't know, but I'll find out."
Point to Jesus: Keep the Main Thing the Main Thing
Whatever question you're answering, whatever objection you're addressing, always bring it back to Jesus. The goal isn't to win a philosophical argument about the existence of generic theism. The goal is to introduce people to Jesus Christ.
Paul said, "I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified" (1 Corinthians 2:2). That doesn't mean he never used arguments - read Acts and you'll see him reasoning in synagogues constantly. But his arguments always pointed to Christ.
If someone asks about evolution, fine, address it - but bring it back to the Gospel. If they want to debate the problem of evil, engage it - but show them the cross where God entered into human suffering. If they question the Bible's reliability, demonstrate it - but point them to the Word made flesh.
Pray Constantly: The Secret Weapon
Prayer isn't just something we do before or after conversations - it's something we do during them. Those quick, silent prayers while the other person is talking: "Lord, give me wisdom." "Open their eyes." "Help me love well." "Use my words."
But also pray strategically. If you're engaging with someone regularly, pray for them specifically. Pray for the barriers you've identified to fall. Pray for the seeds you've planted to grow. Pray for other believers to come into their life. Pray for circumstances that will make them open to the gospel.
I know a woman who kept a prayer journal for her atheist husband. Every conversation they had about faith, she'd write down his objections and pray specifically about each one. Twenty years she prayed. Twenty years. And then one day, he came to faith. When she showed him the prayer journal later, he was stunned. "You were praying about the exact things I was struggling with, sometimes before I even voiced them."
Trust God's Timing: Release the Results
Finally, we have to release the results to God. We are not the Holy Spirit. We cannot convict of sin, righteousness, and judgment. We cannot open blind eyes. We cannot raise the spiritually dead. We can only bear witness to the truth and trust God to use our witness as He wills.
This is incredibly freeing. It means every conversation doesn't have to end in conversion. It means we can engage without manipulation. It means we can love without strings attached. It means we can speak truth without forcing outcomes.
Some plant, some water, but God gives the growth. Our job is to be faithful in the planting and watering. The growth? That's above our pay grade. And honestly, that's a relief. The eternal destiny of souls doesn't depend on how clever our arguments are or how persuasive our presentation is. It depends on the God who raises the dead, and He's really good at His job.
Stories of Transformation: When Arguments Meet the Spirit
Let me share a few stories that illustrate how this all works in real life - how arguments and the Spirit work together in bringing people to faith.
There's the story of C.S. Lewis, the Oxford don who called himself "the most reluctant convert in all England." His conversion wasn't sudden - it was a long, intellectual journey. He had conversations with J.R.R. Tolkien and Hugo Dyson that removed intellectual barriers. He read G.K. Chesterton and George MacDonald who planted seeds. But ultimately, he describes his conversion in almost passive terms: "I gave in, and admitted that God was God."
Notice the interplay - human arguments and discussions played a crucial role, but the final surrender was to a God who had been pursuing him. As Lewis himself said, he was like a mouse being played with by a cat, thinking he was free while all along being gently but firmly herded toward faith.
Or consider the story of Rosaria Butterfield, a leftist lesbian professor who was hostile to Christianity. A pastor's kind letter in response to her anti-Christian article started a friendship. He and his wife had her over for dinner - not to argue, but to love. They answered her questions without judgment. They engaged her intellectually while embracing her personally.
She describes reading the Bible initially to refute it, but finding herself drawn in despite herself. The intellectual engagement was crucial - she needed answers to hard questions. But so was the love she experienced. And ultimately, she describes her conversion as being "dragged kicking and screaming" to the cross. Again, human means (arguments, friendship, love) used by divine power.
Then there's Lee Strobel, the atheist journalist who set out to disprove Christianity to save his wife from this "cult." He interviewed scholars, examined evidence, investigated the resurrection. The historical evidence convinced his mind, but he still resisted. Why? Because he didn't want it to be true. He liked his life without God.
But eventually, the weight of evidence combined with the witness of his wife's transformed life broke through. Notice again - intellectual arguments played a vital role, but they weren't sufficient by themselves. It took the Spirit working through multiple means to bring him to faith.
These stories show us that God rarely works through just one means. He orchestrates a symphony of influences - arguments, relationships, circumstances, internal witness - to draw people to Himself. Our arguments are one instrument in that symphony, important but not sufficient alone.
Common Mistakes: What Not to Do
Before we wrap up, let me share some common mistakes I've seen (and made) when it comes to arguing people into the kingdom:
Mistake 1: Treating People Like Projects
Nothing kills evangelistic effectiveness faster than making people feel like projects instead of people. When we're so focused on converting someone that we stop seeing them as a human being with intrinsic worth, we've lost the plot. People can sense when they're being viewed as a notch on your evangelistic belt, and it repels them.
Real love means caring about someone whether they ever convert or not. It means being their friend even if they never believe. It means serving them without strings attached. Ironically, this kind of no-strings-attached love is often what makes people open to the gospel.
Mistake 2: Arguing to Win Instead of to Bless
It's so easy to get caught up in winning the argument that we forget we're trying to win the person. I've seen Christians demolish someone's objections so thoroughly that the person walked away humiliated rather than convinced. That's not a win - that's a tragedy.
Paul tells us to speak the truth in love. Truth without love is brutality. Love without truth is sentimentality. We need both. Sometimes the most loving thing is to lose an argument graciously rather than win it harshly.
Mistake 3: Neglecting the Power of Testimony
While we're focusing on arguments, don't neglect the power of personal testimony. Sometimes the most powerful apologetic is simply sharing what God has done in your life. Not in a preachy way, but naturally, as part of your story.
Arguments appeal to the head, but testimony often reaches the heart. When someone sees the genuine transformation in your life, it's hard to argue with. As the saying goes, "A man with an experience is never at the mercy of a man with an argument."
Mistake 4: One-Size-Fits-All Approach
Not everyone needs the same thing. Some people need intellectual answers. Others need to see love demonstrated. Some need to work through emotional healing. Others need to see the gospel lived out over time.
This is why listening is so crucial. We need to diagnose before we prescribe. Giving philosophical arguments to someone who needs emotional healing is like offering a band-aid to someone with a broken bone. It might be a perfectly good band-aid, but it's not what they need.
Mistake 5: Forgetting to Depend on the Spirit
It's easy, especially if you're intellectually gifted, to trust in your arguments rather than in the Spirit. You've got your evidence lined up, your logic is airtight, your presentation is polished - and you forget to pray. You forget that unless the Spirit works, it's all just words.
I've learned this the hard way. Some of my most brilliant arguments have fallen completely flat, while sometimes a simple, stumbling testimony has been used powerfully by God. It's humbling, but it's also freeing. Success doesn't depend on my eloquence but on God's power.
The Mystery Remains: Embracing the Both-And
As we come to the end of our exploration, I want to acknowledge something: The mystery remains. We can talk about the relationship between human arguments and divine sovereignty, we can explore how God uses means, we can discuss the balance between head and heart - but ultimately, conversion remains a miracle.
Why does one person hear the gospel and believe while another hears the same message and walks away? Why does God open one heart and not another? Why do some people wrestle with questions for years while others believe immediately? We don't fully know. And that's okay.
What we do know is this: God has chosen to use human means to accomplish divine purposes. He's chosen to use our words, our arguments, our testimonies, our love as instruments of His grace. We're not puppets - we're partners. Not saviors - we're servants. Not closers - we're seed planters and waterers.
Conclusion: Faithful in Our Part, Trusting God with His
So can a person be argued into the kingdom of God? By human argument alone? No. Never. The kingdom of God is not a debate club where the person with the best arguments wins. It's a realm entered only through spiritual birth, and only God can make that happen.
But does that mean arguments are useless? Absolutely not. God uses our arguments, combined with love, testimony, and circumstances, as means through which He draws people to Himself. We plant and water through our reasoned defense of the faith, and God causes the growth in His perfect timing.
This should both humble us and embolden us. It humbles us because we know that conversion doesn't depend on how smart or persuasive we are. The most brilliant argument in the world can't save someone if the Spirit doesn't open their eyes. But it emboldens us because we know that God can use even our fumbling attempts at defending the faith. He can take our mustard seed of faithful witness and grow it into something eternal.
So what's our response? Study hard, preparing yourself to give answers. Love deeply, showing the gospel not just telling it. Pray faithfully, depending on the Spirit's power. And then trust God with the results.
Remember Paul's words: "I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth." That's our calling - to faithfully plant and water, leaving the growth to the God who alone can make dead hearts come alive. We argue not because arguments save, but because God uses truth proclaimed to awaken hearts to truth embodied in Jesus Christ.
The next time you're in a conversation with an unbeliever, remember: You're not there to win an argument. You're there to be a faithful witness. You're not there to close the deal. You're there to plant seeds. You're not there to be the Holy Spirit. You're there to be yourself - a forgiven sinner who's been transformed by grace and has good reasons for the hope within you.
Share those reasons. Share them winsomely, humbly, lovingly. Answer questions honestly. Admit when you don't know something. Love the person in front of you whether they ever believe or not. Pray like crazy. And then trust the God who specializes in opening blind eyes, softening hard hearts, and raising the dead.
Because at the end of the day, that's what conversion is - a resurrection. And only God can raise the dead. But He's chosen to use our witness as part of His resurrection power. What a privilege. What a responsibility. What a mystery.
May we be found faithful in our planting and watering, always ready to give a reason for our hope, always depending on the God who alone gives the growth. Can someone be argued into the kingdom? No. But God can use our arguments, combined with His Spirit's power, to bring someone from death to life. And that's more than enough reason to keep sharing, keep answering, keep loving, and keep trusting.
The gospel is the power of God for salvation. Our arguments are simply servants of that gospel. Let's use them faithfully, wisely, and always in love, trusting God to do what only He can do - save souls and transform lives for His glory.
