In the gospels, Jesus invites people to follow him. But he also, on many occasions, warns them of the cost of doing so. However, the tension between the inviting and the warning has been left out of most of the evangelism models I’ve either participated in or observed. I’ve always been cynical about—maybe even a little annoyed with—the idea of evangelism. As one can imagine, this puts me in an awkward place as a full-time youth worker.
As part of our confirmation curriculum, each student is asked to articulate what it means to follow Jesus Christ in seventh grade. Glancing over the projects from this semester’s class reminded me how strongly the young people at our church feel that following Jesus means telling other people about him. Yet, when asked to clarify what evangelism means, most students simply respond with, “spreading the word.”
It’s time to recover a broader definition of evangelism.
This is why I deeply resonate with Jake Bouma’s “Evangelism in the Dark.” I too have often felt that evangelism resembles more of a marketing campaign for Jesus rather than an embodiment of good news. I recall a story a professor once told me about witnessing with a group of students on the beaches of Florida one summer. Students were to open conversations with strangers by telling them they were conducting a survey to discover the religious temperature of the area.
During one conversation, a man simply asked the students what they planned to do with all the data. The group awkwardly stared back at him for what must have seemed like hours, embarrassed, probably even a little ashamed. There was no research study; it was a gimmick employed to get people talking about eternal destination. But how could this group of students tell this man they had been dishonest just to get an opportunity to tell him about Jesus? I don’t think this story is an anomaly. I actually think it happens frequently. After all, the end certainly justifies the means, right?
Jake poignantly reminds us that evangelism has become a strategy for winning converts rather than a way to encounter people in their deepest and darkest questions. He describes the modern perception of evangelism well:
Here’s how we often think of evangelism success stories. We speak our beliefs, and the result is the non-believer’s acceptance of and eventual conversion to those beliefs” But is evangelism simply about conversion? If it is, are we only successful in bearing the good news when someone responds with belief? Jake pushes us to have a much broader vision of evangelism, one in which questioning, struggling, and openness play a more prominent role. Jake writes, “There is a significant and enduring theological tradition that not only values but actually places the very heart of evangelism in this type of exchange—in relational encounters that take place in the dark night of questioning.
The kind of evangelism Jake offers is one that requires us to see more clearly the humanity of others, to identify with their scary questions and enter into their doubt. It leaves tricks and gimmicks behind and offers only our own humanity in exchange. Contrastingly, evangelism à la marketing is dehumanizing. It has no regard for who people are, their stories, their questions, or their experiences. They only become consumers for the products presented to them. Their freedom is ignored. Evangelism in the dark, as Bouma suggests, allows people to encounter one another in weakness and doubt without imposing upon one another’s will.
A few years ago I developed a relationship with a student in our youth ministry who was experiencing a period marked by significant doubt, questioning even his baptism. He was an intelligent young man and had noticed some inconsistencies with the way the church answered some of his deepest existential questions. Arguments over the question of origins, political affiliations, and self-righteousness weighed heavily on his faith. Instead of attempting to resolve the tension or answer his questions, I shared the haunting space with him. I entered, as best I could, into his questioning. I shared some of my own doubts and scary questions as well.
I think it surprised him to hear his youth leader talk about doubt. I think he expected me to call his parents and the pastor to set up a spiritual intervention. As we journeyed together for the next few years to find meaning, something similar to Jake’s encounter with his brother occurred between that student and me—a transcendent experience where we both allowed for meaningful questions to be uttered. He remains a close friend of mine and is loosely attached to the church after high school. I’m convinced neither would be true had I squashed his doubt with dismissive statements of certainty.
Ultimately, Jake’s article reminded me most of the need for faith to be embodied. As long as faith is kept in abstract thought, on the verge of ideology, evangelism will always feel like getting others to assimilate to the way we think about the world. An authentically embodied faith focuses more on being the gospel to others than trying to convince them to believe it is true. Indeed, embodied faith is more effectively postured to meet others on neutral ground and to enter into doubt and weakness. A nighttime evangelist will be one who has embodied his faith. To do this will take risk, however.
I imagine there are those who criticize this understanding of evangelism as timid, lacking courage. Boldly proclaiming the gospel should not be reduced to those with confrontational personalities approaching strangers on the street. In many cases, sharing in moments of doubt and weakness requires a great deal of courage, perhaps even more than typical confrontational evangelism.
I think Jake is right; our students are positioned best to embody this kind of evangelism. But, as he suggests, for our students to enter into doubt with their friends outside of church, we must begin to allow their own doubts to be heard within the church. Perhaps we could spend a lot less time answering questions they weren’t asking to begin with. Or, what if we dedicated more time to listening to their questions instead of guessing which ones to answer? Would our students begin to feel comfortable dwelling in places of doubt? Would they begin to develop the skill of asking the right questions? I’m afraid that, if we don’t allow them to ask questions or seek meaning in the face of doubt, they will feel shame when doing so on their own.
I am hopeful, though. Jake is proof that hidden within this theological shift currently underway in youth ministry is an overwhelming amount of attention to creating space for young people to ask and wrestle with big questions. As youth workers allow this to happen, I am hopeful that the next generation of Christians, comfortable with their own limitations and acquainted with their own weaknesses, will resist the urge to sell the good news and be it instead.
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