I grew up with three brothers and one pretty tough sister. We fought—a lot. About who cheated at Uno. About who ate the last cornbread muffin. About whether Mom really said that or whether someone was just making it up. There were raised voices, bruised egos, and, occasionally, bruised arms.
But because we were family, we always made up. And oddly enough, the fights also made us stronger. They reminded us that while we might clash, we still belonged to one another. They also taught the other kids in the Chicago neighborhood where I grew up an important lesson: Don’t mess with the Butlers. They’re tough, and they’ve got each other’s backs.
In many ways, sibling fights have a lot in common with theological disputes among Christians. It’s not new for the church to have disagreements. And when it comes to defending essential doctrines, its good and godly to fight (Jude 3-4). But nowadays, it’s easy to see that many believers have become too quick to jump into squabbles, often lobbing accusations against one another in combative—and quarrelsome—subcultures on social media.
One recent conflict played out between Pastor Eric Mason and Tiphani Montgomery, who have large followings online. Their public dispute about accurate prophecy and spiritual submission set social media on fire, sparking both discussions and online fights among their followers. Reaction videos, breakdowns, and threaded think pieces circulated across platforms, with people quickly picking sides and sharing who they thought was right or wrong. Jackie Hill Perry and Preston Perry, who have done ministry work with Mason, also found themselves dragged into the dispute.
For some, it was a spectacle. For others, it was a personal theological clash on how to discern a real prophet from a fraud. But for many of us, it was also a moment to pause and consider what the online frenzy reveals about the church in our current age: how we teach, how we disciple, how we form convictions, and how we handle disagreement in public.
From the Jerusalem Council in Acts to Paul’s rebuke of Peter in Galatians to the church fathers in Nicaea, Christians have always had to work out theological tensions in front of watching eyes. It has been part of how we grow and how we bear witness to the truth of Jesus Christ. Some theological conflicts need to be visible. And some questions must be asked and answered in front of the broader body.
But in our modern age, public disagreements have also become a spectator sport. Our councils are Instagram posts, and our “letter to the churches” arrives as a 20-minute YouTube monologue or a thread on X. Soon enough, the views and comments flood in. And when the dust settles, we’re left with weaker fellowship and a diminished public witness.
If you’re a fighter, I understand the temptation. We live in an era that often downplays theology—even when it’s clear as day—as divisive or outdated. As a pastor, I find this especially frustrating. What we believe and teach, even on issues nonessential to salvation, matters to God. Theology shapes our lives in both good and bad ways. And because of that, it’s valuable and necessary to “correctly handle the word of truth” (2 Tim. 2:15) on all topics.
Pursuing doctrinal clarity can guide us, but it’s well-known that it won’t resolve all our fights. Sometimes the Bible doesn’t speak clearly on a subject. And when those topics come up, it’s fine to say so—knowing that our finite minds are wrestling with infinite truth that must be approached with reverence, not arrogance. We must have the type of humility that recognizes that while the Word of God is infallible, we are not. And that on this side of glory, our understanding will always be partial and incomplete (1 Cor. 13:9).
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That’s not an excuse to doubt everything, but it’s one reason God commands us to be “quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry” (James 1:19). How much more so should we do that when other sincere believers, equally committed to the authority of Scripture, arrive at different conclusions. We don’t have to surrender truth, yet we should refuse to assume we possess all of it and do so perfectly. We can hold our convictions with confidence and compassion while avoiding the trap of treating every disagreement like a battle to win. The church, after all, is a family, not a fan base.
In a fractured church with no shared court of discipline, public disputes on theology —especially among leaders—requires discernment. Public rebuke is a serious act. And while it may need to happen in some cases, our conversations should be rooted in love for Christ’s body, marked by spiritual discernment, and carried out with humility and a clear sense of responsibility before God.
One of the biggest problems I’ve seen with online disputes is that they become too fleshly. Even when one side might clearly be in the right, social media skirmishes have a way of bringing out a type of nastiness, often with a dash of pride, defensiveness, and anger. People don’t want to be seen as “the losers” in public or quickly apologize for what they could have said or done differently. And before long, godly character has taken a back seat as followers take sides, assign motives, and pick up offenses on behalf of someone they’ve never even met.
For many of us, blowups can also serve as a reminder that our spiritual growth cannot be outsourced to influencers or the latest pastor we’ve found on the internet. Online teachers and content creators can be incredibly helpful. But formation into the likeness of Christ happens most deeply in the context of real-life relationships: in families, in local churches, and in spiritual friendships where we are truly known. Discipleship requires more than access to good content. It needs mutual submission, accountability, and community.
We can embrace that and still see that something beautiful is happening online. As Richard Foster wrote in Streams of Living Water, “a new thing is coming. God is gathering his people once again, creating of them an all-inclusive community of loving persons with Jesus Christ as the community’s prime sustainer and most glorious inhabitant.” This beautiful cross-pollination is happening in part because of online platforms, which are helping Christians engage people they might never have encountered.
But as Tish Harrison Warren has previously discussed, this new landscape also raises important questions about authority and accountability. It means theological disagreement is more visible than ever, which can be good and help us grow if we approach it the right way.
The culture around us desperately needs to relearn how to disagree well. If the church can model that—if we can be sharpened, not shattered, by our differences—then our public theology can become not just a witness of what we believe but also a testimony to who we are and to whom we belong. And that, more than any trending video or clapback post, is what the world needs to see.
Chris Butler is the director of Christian civic formation at the Center for Christianity & Public Life.
