Discussion Questions

David says fallacies can be “more effective than truthful arguments” and that sometimes your only consolation is that you “acted with integrity” even if you “lose” on the spot; what does that suggest about what God values in our speech and motives, and how does that challenge the way many Christians measure “success” in defending the faith? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If bad arguments can “win” but truth can “lose,” what does that say God cares about in our words and motives? How does that challenge how Christians often judge “success” in defending the faith?

He describes recognizing fallacies later—sometimes “the next week” correcting something taught in church, especially if it was “a visiting speaker”; what kind of church culture does that assume about accountability and truth, and how might early Christians (who expected public correction and testing of teaching) have handled that compared to how modern churches handle popular or charismatic speakers? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What kind of church attitude about truth and accountability is shown when people correct a teaching a week later, especially from a visiting speaker? How might early Christians—who expected public testing and correction—handle that differently than many churches today?

David mentions being trained in law school to use “tricks” to win and contrasts that with a course about truth; where do you see Christian teaching today functioning more like persuasion training than truth-seeking (sermons, apologetics, social media), and what heart-level desires in us make that tempting? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Where do you see Christian teaching today focusing more on “winning people over” than finding what’s true (like in sermons, apologetics, or social media)? What desires in our hearts make that so tempting?

In the “false dilemma” examples, he says salvation is often framed as “either we earn salvation by works or we’re saved by faith alone,” while the missing option is “faith” that requires “obedient response”; how does that middle-ground claim reshape what we assume about God’s grace, God’s expectations, and assurance—and what resistance do you feel rising up when you hear it? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If the choice isn’t just “works” or “faith alone,” but a faith that responds with obedience, how does that change how you see God’s grace, what God expects, and how sure you can feel? What pushback do you feel inside when you hear that?

He critiques the illustration of “good works on a scale” versus “a drop of Jesus’ blood,” then brings in 1 John: “If we walk in the light… Jesus’ blood cleanses us”; what picture of God’s ongoing cleansing and relationship is implied there, and how is it different from the “one-time transaction” way salvation is often presented in evangelicalism? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What does 1 John suggest about Jesus cleansing us as we keep “walking in the light”? How is that different from the idea that salvation is only a one-time deal that’s finished in a moment?

When discussing head coverings, David says shifting to “Are you saying a woman can’t be saved if she doesn’t wear a head covering?” dodges the real question: “What does God tell us to do?”; how do modern Christians use salvation/“is it essential?” language to escape uncomfortable obedience, and what would it look like to treat God’s commands as commands even when we’re unsure of the eternal stakes? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How do Christians use “Is this required for salvation?” to avoid doing hard or awkward things God may be asking? What would it look like to obey God’s commands even when we’re not sure how big the eternal consequences are?

In the letter about “exposing blind spots” versus “shielding a brother,” David says the dilemma ignores Matthew 18 and that love may require confrontation even when we aren’t “happy” to do it; what does this reveal about God’s view of love as action rather than emotional enjoyment, and how might early Christian communities have practiced this kind of corrective love differently than we do? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What does this teach about love being something you do, not just something you feel? How might early Christian groups have practiced loving correction more directly than we usually do?

David defines “red herring” as distraction through emotionally appealing side issues and gives examples from politics, courtrooms, and sermons where stories make people say, “Man, that was a great message,” even though “he never proved his point”; what are the “moving narratives” or emotional triggers that most easily sway you, and how can a group learn to lovingly ask, “But did we actually establish what is true?” JumpstartAnother way to ask: What kinds of stories or emotional issues most easily sway you, even if they don’t prove anything? How can a group kindly ask, “But is it actually true?” without turning harsh or argumentative?

He calls the Baylor law-school tactic of waiting until closing arguments to exploit a time-estimation error “dishonest” and says the teacher was “really proud of this”; how should Christians think about tactics that are legal, clever, and effective but manipulate perception—especially in ministry fundraising, evangelism appeals, and online “debates”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How should Christians judge tactics that are legal and effective but still feel manipulative? How does this apply to fundraising in ministry, evangelism appeals, and online debates?

In the straw man examples—“Jesus can’t save apart from baptism” and “If Protestants believe it, it can’t be true”—David insists, “That is not what I’m saying”; what practices could your group adopt to prevent straw-manning (summarizing an opponent’s view fairly, asking clarifying questions, refusing to argue with caricatures), and what would those practices cost you in speed, certainty, or the feeling of “winning”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What habits could your group use to avoid misrepresenting someone’s view (like restating it fairly and asking questions first)? What would you have to give up—speed, confidence, or the feeling of “winning”—to do that well?