What do people do with unsolicited advice?
That was the rhetorical question my counseling professor asked my seminary class. The rhetorical answer was clear: nothing.
Too often that describes evangelistic encounters between Christians and non-Christians. We believe everyone needs the gospel. So why do many gospel conversations drive people away like nails on a chalkboard instead of drawing them in like a melody their hearts have always longed to sing?
Perhaps our evangelism is missing something. Scripture illuminates the way to share the gospel, but maybe we’ve missed the way and need to be guided back by…Theo Von?
Common Ground
This is not an endorsement of Theo Von. His content often contains foul language and inappropriate themes–some of which are controversial.
However, like many things, there are redeeming qualities. I’ve been sent clips of Theo Von’s podcast, and listened to one of his interviews in preparation for a series of talks. I instantly saw the secret to his success. Yes, he’s funny–comedians often are–but I think what draws celebrities to his show is his way of relating to his guests. He’s humble, self-deprecating, vulnerable, transparent.
He admits he’s more nervous than Mark Zuckerberg.
He opens up to Donald Trump about his past struggles with substance abuse.
He insists he’s worse at working crowds than Ben Affleck.
This puts others at ease. Knowing they don’t have to impress him, they freely admit their weaknesses to him.
Here is where Christians can learn.
Christians often don’t want to admit their failures, so they strain to maintain a perfect image to outsiders, thinking that revealing a single chink in their shiny armor of righteousness will cause the gospel to fall into disrepute in the eyes of others. But Christ came to save sinners! People who are sick want to hear from others who were healed, not from those who look as if they’ve always been healthy.
Paul modeled this remarkably well. He told the Corinthians he was the least of the apostles (1 Cor. 15:9). He told the Ephesians he was the least of all the saints (Eph. 3:8). He told Timothy he was the chief of sinners (1 Tim. 1:15)! As Paul progressed in Christ, he became more humble, not less; more aware of his need of mercy, not more self-confident. This should be the posture of every Christian as they share the gospel with others.
Here is our common ground with unbelievers: we are all sinners.
Often we approach evangelistic conversations with mindset “You need to be saved.” That is true. But even more true is “I have been saved, and so can you.” We are called to be Christ’s witnesses in Acts 1:8–people who simply testify to the power of God in our life and the supremacy of his grace over our sin.
Common Savior
Next time you share the good news with someone start with how Christ overcame your own failures. If you do, you might be surprised to find others leaning in. Sin, failure, and guilt are universal human conditions, a remora that clings to us on our earthly journey.
In his essay The Strange Persistence of Guilt, Wilfred McClay argues that despite post-modern culture telling people they should do whatever they feel is right, people cannot rid themselves of guilt. In fact, the judgment and moralizing online today could make a Pharisee blush.
Not even post-truth culture has erased shame. We might be surprised how many people today resonate with the old Third Eye Blind song lyric: “Everyone is so self-righteous. Where have you sinners gone?”
People don’t want fake saviors, they want sinners who point to our common savior, the only one who can forgive sins–they need tears, they need light, they need God! This might actually be the strongest apologetic for the gospel.
In her book Out of the Saltshaker, Becky Pippert recounts when her friend became a Christian and Becky was startled to find out why. Her friend said to her,
All my life I used to think, “How arrogant for someone to call himself a Christian, to think he’s that good.” But then I got to know you–and Becky, you are far from perfect, yet you call yourself a Christian. So my first shock was to discover you “blow it” like I do. But the biggest shock was that you admitted it, where I couldn’t. Suddenly I saw that being a Christian didn’t mean never failing, but admitting when you’ve failed. I wanted to keep Christ in a box and let you be religious during Bible studies, but the more you let me inside your life, the more impossible it became to keep the lid on Christianity. Even your admission of weaknesses drove me to him!1
If we’re real with people maybe they’ll be less impressed with us and more drawn to our Savior.
Our transparence will let people touch God. If that happens, people might actually seek our advice for a change.
1Rebecca Manley Pippert, Out of the Saltshaker and into the World: Evangelism as a Way of Life, Second Edition (InterVarsity Press, 1999). 27
Mike McGregor
Mike McGregor (MDiv, Reformed Theological Seminary) is Director of College Ministry at First Baptist Church in Durham, N.C. You can follow him on Twitter at @m5mcgregor.
