To excel as a driver, you must resist the grip of road rage. To thrive as a teacher, you need deep knowledge paired with unwavering patience for your students. To communicate effectively, you must think carefully and meet people where they are.

Yet, in today’s society, we’re plagued by tunnel-visioned emotionalism. Too often, we let fleeting feelings steer our actions. Worse still, many allow emotions to shape their perception of reality itself. This is a dangerous path — often a one-way ticket to chaos.

Consider this: a driver gripped by road rage doesn’t see a fellow human behind the wheel; they see an obstacle to conquer. This mindset sparks reckless, even deadly decisions, all ignited by a momentary spark of irritation. Likewise, a teacher, exasperated by a “difficult” student, might abandon them, failing to recognize the deeper struggles — poverty, trauma, or insecurity — that shape their behavior.

If this emotional myopia distorts so many areas of life, how could it not sabotage our evangelism? To be an effective evangelist, you must stop viewing others as enemies.

This trap is glaring in politics, where we vilify those who hold opposing views, reducing them to caricatures of evil. But it seeps into every sphere — even the church. Doctrinal disputes often breed hostility or avoidance rather than humble, constructive dialogue. As the late pastor R.C. Sproul keenly observed, “The name of the game today is conflict avoidance.” Instead of engaging with grace, we retreat into echo chambers or lash out, losing sight of the humanity in those we’re called to reach. Sproul spoke of doctrinal divides within the church, but his insight rings true across all contexts.

Effective evangelism demands a radical shift in perspective. It requires seeing others not as enemies or obstacles but as people — complex and broken. More precisely, it calls us to see them as sinners in desperate need of saving. Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 6:11 pierce the heart of this: “And such were some of you.” Every believer was once lost, yet we’ve been washed, sanctified, and justified “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” This truth must anchor our approach. Only by embracing this perspective can we share the gospel with clarity, compassion, and unwavering conviction, meeting others where they are and guiding them toward the cross.

So, where do we go wrong, and how do we guard against it?

Our error lies not just in misidentifying the enemy but in forgetting there is only one true enemy: Satan. When we encounter those who champion causes we oppose — abortion, LGBT ideologies, or other secular beliefs — we’re quick to think, “How can they be so blind?” Yet, in the same breath, we overlook the one who blinds them. Ephesians 6:12 is unmistakable: our struggle is not “against flesh and blood” but against rulers, authorities, cosmic powers over darkness, and spiritual forces of evil. Our battle is against Satan and his forces, waged in a spiritual war beyond our full comprehension. Praise God, the victory is already won! Yet, we still live in the tension of this ongoing conflict.

When I began working in politics, I feared my perspective would grow cynical. Writing about the world’s evils — some so grievous they demand a pause from the screen to pray or process — could easily breed bitterness. Yet, by God’s grace, I’ve not grown hardened. Instead, He has kindled in me a deeper compassion. The evils we witness are worthy of righteous anger, but the people ensnared in them? How can we hate those who, apart from God’s mercy, we might resemble?

You were once lost in darkness, but now you are found. Surely, being made a new creation, walking in the light of God’s truth, is the greatest gift you’ve ever received. For many, it’s simultaneously beautiful and excruciating to realize what we were saved from, and just how much we needed that saving. Someone reading this may have walked through the pain of abortion or addiction. Someone you love may carry the scars of a past they cannot escape. All around us, people bear immense burdens — yet in Christ, we are invited to lay them at the foot of the cross. The stains we thought indelible were washed clean by His atoning blood.

Satan, the architect of sin, despises you — and he hates God even more. He schemes for your failure, your misery, your eternal ruin. He revels in division, darkness, and despair, dragging as many as he can into the abyss of his defeat. Satan is the real enemy. Satan is the only enemy.

Beloved, we must hold fast to this truth. When we’re wronged, when we witness wickedness, we must remember that this world is still under the sway of the prince of darkness. This does not excuse evil — far from it. But it often explains it. It reminds us that the person who angers or frustrates us is not merely an obstacle or annoyance. No, they are the very mission field Christ has sent us to.

When we’re tempted to look down on others, we must pause and remember that they are made in the image of God. Genesis 1:27a declares, “So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him.” Every person, no matter how lost or broken, bears the divine imprint of their Creator, endowed with inherent dignity and worth. This truth should stir in us a deep, burning desire for their salvation. Jesus Himself modeled this in John 4:7–26, engaging the Samaritan woman — a societal outcast — with compassion, speaking truth that led her to living water.

Jesus certainly never shied away from speaking boldly to those who led others astray, such as the Pharisees and Sadducees, whom He rebuked as “whitewashed tombs” for their hypocrisy (Matthew 23:27). Yet, at the heart of His every word and deed burned a fierce, self-sacrificial love. For Jesus, speaking truth was not necessarily an act of condemnation but the most loving act possible, exposing sin to offer the path to redemption, exposing wickedness in light of a holy God who demands righteousness. When we love those who seem easy to hate — those who mock our faith or champion error — we mirror the gospel itself.

As 1 John 4:10 reminds us, “In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.” To love the unlovable, to speak truth with grace, is to reflect the very heart of Christ, who died for us “while we were still sinners” (Romans 5:8).

Therefore, let us fix our eyes on the true enemy, Satan, who seeks to “steal and kill and destroy” (John 10:10). The people around us — whether they wound us, oppose us, or wander in darkness — are not the foe; they are the mission field, ripe for the gospel’s harvest. Let us approach them with humility, praying for their redemption, and sharing the hope of Christ. For we were all once “dead in [our] trespasses and sins” (Ephesians 2:1), yet God, in His mercy, made us alive. May we long for others to know that same grace, remembering who the real enemy is, and reflecting the heart of our Savior who came “to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10).