I grew up in a word-games family — Scrabble, Boggle, Articulate, Taboo. I was the wordy, nerdy type and quietly competitive. My wife is more or less the opposite, and in our early years a friendly game could tip into a genuinely heated argument: I'd insist her word wasn't allowed, she'd swear mine didn't exist, and off we'd go. We've since got much better at knowing which arguments actually matter and which don't — at letting a game be a game without letting it bruise the relationship. That, it turns out, is a skill the whole world is losing.
A church full of noise
We live in the most argumentative age in history. A million opinions sit a screen-tap away, and yet we seem worse than ever at disagreeing and staying friends; we fracture into tribes instead. When you read Paul's second letter to Timothy, you find a young, anxious leader trying to hold together a church plagued by exactly this — false teachers and pointless obsessions pulling people apart. Paul doesn't treat it as harmless time-wasting. He calls their teaching "gangrene": a rot that spreads and kills. His example is two men, Hymenaeus and Philetus, who taught that "the resurrection has already taken place." They weren't denying Jesus' resurrection but ours — the promised day when Jesus returns to judge and make all things new. Say that's already happened, and there's nothing left to hope for, no return of Jesus, no future to wait for. It guts the gospel of its power. And notice the fallout: once the foundation and the future are gone, people drift into holiness-optional living and endless irrelevant debates. So Paul keeps pressing Timothy to pursue a godly life — and to learn which arguments are worth having. How do we tell the difference? Three questions.
Does it distract from the gospel?
Timothy's church was getting lost in genealogies and myths — fascinating, maybe, but a distraction from the one thing everyone actually needs: Jesus. Here's a modern, slightly controversial parallel. I reckon an over-focus on the exact details of the beginning of time and the end of time can quietly pull us away from the gospel needs right in front of us. Debating precisely how long creation took won't change what God did; debating the exact timetable of Jesus' return won't change what will happen. Neither question is unimportant — but history shows they have a way of becoming "the thing" people split churches over. If you find yourself strangely drawn to speculative debates, it's worth asking why, and what difference the answer actually makes for mission today. Sometimes it's just easier to live in a past or future we can't affect than in the present we can.
Does it add to the gospel?
The gospel needs no additions — Jesus is enough. But we're forever tempted to believe it's Jesus plus something. For the early church it was Jesus plus keeping the Jewish law. Today it can be Jesus plus the one true church, Jesus plus a particular style of worship, Jesus plus the right way of doing baptism or the Lord's Supper, Jesus plus the right spiritual experiences. These are worth thinking hard about — but the moment a good thing becomes a gospel thing, we've left the gospel behind. The same temptation comes from another angle: quietly believing the world's deepest need is something other than Jesus. We rarely say it outright, but we drift there. People despair over the climate, over where AI is heading, over the state of the nation, and pin their hope on a party or a policy or a law. Of course it's good to care about justice, poverty, peace and technology, and to work hard at them. But the honest question is this: do I care more about my issue than about the gospel reaching my neighbours? Does it break my heart more than people heading into a Christless eternity? Does my fear of these things overshadow my hope in Jesus?
Does it downplay holiness?
Paul's third warning is to be wary of any teaching — however Christian-sounding — that moves away from a godly life. If teaching drifts from God's good design for sexuality and family, be wary. If it justifies demeaning or devaluing people, avoid it. If it excuses greed or an abuse of power, it isn't the gospel. Paul is clear that holy living doesn't earn our salvation; but as we live holy lives we become "vessels ready for noble use" — equipped to make a gospel impact. The false teachers had the opposite: "a form of godliness" while "denying its power." It's all about the gospel — not being distracted from it, not distorting it, but being transformed by it.
Argue well, and point to Jesus
This leaves Timothy with a hard assignment: oppose foolish arguments without becoming argumentative. Paul tells him the Lord's servant "must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone... opponents must be gently instructed," in the hope that God grants them repentance and they escape the trap of the devil. Even the opponents get every chance — because they, too, are worth it. That's a tall order in a tribal world, but it's the shape of holiness: holding firmly to the truth while treating people gently.
The hope of our town
Picture someone wandering into church for morning tea — not a Christian, and as it happens they believe the exact opposite of you on politics, AI, climate, sexuality, whatever it might be. As you talk, what do you decide their greatest need is? Do you set them straight on the issue, or remember that their first need is Jesus and the rest can wait? Our town chases beauty, rest, hope, community, a fresh start — all good desires. The question is who we point them to. Not people, not politics, not the general goodness of humanity, not escapism or a DIY spirituality that lets us do as we please. When our neighbours despair over the state of the world, we don't have to sink down with them. We point to Jesus — and to the life and hope we've found in him. Because the greatest need of the world is Jesus, and so is its greatest hope.
This post is adapted from a sermon preached by Murray Colville at St Hilda's Anglican Church Katoomba on 2 Timothy 2:14–3:9, as part of our Vision Month 2026: We See a Church... series through 2 Timothy. Visit us at www.katoomba.church.
