When The Conversation Becomes Unfruitful

I once wanted to write a post analysing my conversations with atheists, agnostics, and evolutionists. I thought the subject was belief systems, logic, and apologetics.

Over time, I realised the deeper work should be done from within my own convictions and heart.

The question was not simply who I was speaking to, but what posture I carried into moments of disagreement, and whether those conversations were ever meant to bear fruit in the way I expected. Before examining belief, I had to examine capacity. The capacity to be misunderstood, the capacity to be disagreed with, and the humility to wait for God rather than rush to defend myself.

Jesus reminds us that rejection is not a sign of failure. “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated Me first” (John 15:18). Yet even in rejection, Jesus never responded with contempt. He remained truthful, present, and gentle.

Borrowed words and quiet tensions

I have found myself in conversations where Christian topics were debated using AI generated responses read directly from a phone and media pushed responses. Often, the words echoed opinions already circulating online rather than thoughts shaped through personal wrestling or lived reflection.

At first, I felt unsettled. I wanted to correct, to clarify, to bring everything back to Scripture with thorough studying. With time, I began to notice something else.

Some conversations, including ones I had once participated in myself, were not really about learning. They were shaped by positions already formed, and discussion became a way to reinforce certainty rather than explore truth. The technology itself was not the issue. It simply made it easier to borrow confidence without pausing to listen.

Scripture gently cautions us against becoming entangled in disputes that do not lead to growth, reminding us that not every disagreement needs to be pursued to its end (Titus 3:9; 2 Timothy 2:23).

Turning the other cheek with intention

Jesus taught His followers to turn the other cheek in response to insult (Matthew 5:39). This was never an instruction to deny truth or tolerate harm, but a call to refuse retaliation driven by wounded pride.

There are moments when responding quickly does not bring clarity, only escalation. Silence, in these moments, can be a form of care. A way of refusing to add pressure where God may already be at work.

Truth does not depend on our urgency, and the Holy Spirit does not require our anxiety to move.

Learning to listen without retreating

I once found myself in a group conversation where biblical morals were being questioned. The discussion turned toward moral judgement in the Bible, and I was accused of being judgmental for holding a biblical perspective.

What surprised me was that I had not actually spoken about the topic at all. The conversation had been introduced by them, and I found myself being instructed that immorality could be acceptable as long as the intention was neutral, well meaning, or perceived not to harm anyone.

As the conversation continued, I chose to listen. Not because I agreed, but because I sensed that the intensity of the response was pointing to something already stirring beneath the surface. It felt less like a debate and more like internal wrestling being voiced outward. Scripture tells us that God’s law is written on the human heart, and conscience bears witness even when beliefs differ (Romans 2:15).

After some time, I felt prompted by the Holy Spirit to speak, not to explain or defend, but simply to name what was happening. I said, “Do you realise that I haven’t actually said anything this whole time?”

The room grew quiet and I was surprised by the reaction from just a question.

I was simply led in that moment to respond with restraint. What followed did not feel like something I accomplished, but something God did without requiring more words from me. Scripture reminds us that it is the Spirit who convicts hearts, not human persuasion (John 16:8).

In that stillness, I realised that sometimes clarity arrives not through explanation, but through space. Jesus often responded to tension not by offering immediate answers, but by asking questions that revealed the heart behind what was being asked (Matthew 21:23–27; Luke 10:25–37).

They wanted me to argue about morality. Instead, the question revealed that I had not placed judgement on them. They felt compelled to justify their position, responding not to accusation, but to conviction already present within themselves. As Jesus taught, it is light that brings things into the open, not forceful debate (John 3:19–21).

Listening, in that moment, was not retreat. It was discernment.

When God speaks through weakness

This experience reminded me that God has always worked through people who felt unequipped.

Moses asked God what he should say, admitting that he was slow of speech and uncertain of his words (Exodus 4:10). Jeremiah protested that he was too young and did not know how to speak (Jeremiah 1:6). Yet God did not require eloquence from either of them. He promised His presence and His words.

In moments of tension, faithfulness is not found in having the perfect response, but in being willing to obey with what we have been given. God does not ask us to win battles of persuasion. He asks us to be faithful witnesses.

Gentleness with boundaries

Discernment is not only about knowing when to speak. It is also about knowing when to step away.

Jesus Himself withdrew from hostile spaces. There were moments when He walked away because the time was not right, or because the encounter had turned destructive rather than redemptive (Luke 5:16; John 8:59). His withdrawal was not fear. It was wisdom.

Some conversations cross from disagreement into reactive abuse, where mockery or pressure is used to provoke a response. Staying engaged in those moments does not make us more faithful. It often makes us more wounded.

Scripture calls us to guard our hearts carefully, because they are the wellspring of life (Proverbs 4:23).

Standing, not striving

God does not leave us unprotected as we engage a difficult world. We are called to put on the full armour of God, not so we can attack, but so we can stand (Ephesians 6:11–18).

Truth grounds us.
Righteousness guards our hearts.
Peace steadies our steps.
Faith shields us from accusation.
Salvation secures our identity.
The Word of God anchors us when emotions run high.

This armour does not escalate conflict. It allows us to remain rooted without becoming reactive.

Choosing discernment over display

Disagreement does not require withdrawal from people, and gentleness does not mean endless access. Discernment is learning to recognise when a conversation is an invitation, and when it is time to entrust the moment to God.

Jesus was not rejected because He lacked wisdom, but because light exposes what prefers to remain hidden (John 3:19). Even then, He did not force understanding. He allowed space for response.

When conversations become unfruitful, it is not always because truth is absent. Sometimes it is because timing, posture, or readiness is misaligned.

Often, the most faithful response is not having the last word, but trusting God enough to leave the conversation unfinished.

Biblical References

Matthew 5:39 (Responding to insult without retaliation); Matthew 21:23–27 (Jesus answers tension with discerning questions); Luke 5:16 (Jesus withdraws to pray and set boundaries); Luke 10:25–37 (Questions reveal the heart behind moral debates); John 3:19–21 (Light exposes inner convictions); John 8:59 (Jesus walks away from hostile confrontation); John 15:18 (Followers share in Christ’s rejection); John 16:8 (The Spirit convicts hearts, not human argument); Romans 2:15 (God’s law written on the human heart); Exodus 4:10 (Moses feels unequipped to speak); Jeremiah 1:6 (Jeremiah fears his youth and inexperience); Proverbs 4:23 (Guarding the heart as spiritual wisdom); Titus 3:9 (Avoiding unfruitful and divisive disputes); 2 Timothy 2:23 (Refusing arguments that breed quarrels); Ephesians 6:11–18 (Standing firm through God’s spiritual armour).