I live with a constant awareness of the stigma associated with word “evangelism.”
The word confronts something within the modern psyche. The very whisper of the word, especially in conversations outside the doors of a church, induces eye rolls. Most people in western society think of it as an activity reserved for the previous mid-century; we think of it the same way we think of the idea of “smoking cigarettes in restaurants” or our parents’ tins of Folgers coffee—or, dare I say, baseball. (Gulp, that last one may be controversial.) Much of our society thinks of evangelism as something outdated. It’s an idea whose time came and went. It’s a remnant of a previous age. But it’s not just outdated. Many people in western society look at evangelism with disgust.[1] And for what it’s worth, I think many look at it with disgust for good reasons.
It’s not hard to see that evangelism has a public relations issue. The stereotypical evangelist tends to be perceived as lacking people skills—often more focused on the truth they convey than the humans they’re communicating with. Zealots of truth, many evangelists invade people’s space in inconvenient ways. We show up at people’s doors on slow Saturday mornings, utilizing the same tactics as door-to-door salesmen. We are disruptive (and not in a good way). We hold Sharpie-marked signs above our heads on busy intersections and, with just a few short words, tell people they will experience eternal suffering. We scream on street corners like we’re frantically trying to scalp tickets to sporting event—one no one wants to attend. We talk about the most existential issues facing humanity, and we do so flippantly.
If I’m perfectly honest, even I—an evangelist by nature—find myself disgusted at many of our forms of evangelism. It’s not surprising, then, that everyday folks, going about their business, look at evangelism with a cocktail of suspicion. In fact, 83 percent of non-religious people see evangelism as a form of religious fanaticism or extremism (Barna, 2019).
I recently heard a story from a friend who told me of how her childhood youth group evangelized. She grew up in a college town, and one day the youth group had a creative “evangelism” idea to reach college students: they would go to a public place and have a member of their group stage a serious fall and injury. The idea was that people would gather around the injured person, and then, someone from the youth group would take advantage of the gathered crowd to invite them to an evangelistic event at church. For dramatic effect, they even used fake blood. The plan didn’t end up working: an ambulance was called, and when the crowd realized the entire event was a charade, they dispersed with tremendous anger. Evangelism like this lacks honesty. It’s manipulative. Coercive. It is ugly.
In addition to being perceived as archaic and eliciting disgust, Christian evangelism has, at times, traumatized those on the other end of our evangelistic methods. (Yes: traumatized.) Elaine Heath, in her book Trauma-Informed Evangelism, makes a masterful case for how heartless and impersonal evangelism may perpetuate a form of spiritual abuse. She suggests that while evangelism should be about “healing” the soul and delivering good news, at times it has instead become a heavy-handed effort to grow our churches and make converts. In this, our commitment to the outcome of our evangelism has eclipsed our commitment to love our neighbor as ourselves. An act intended to be beautiful and healing has become crass and traumatizing. In her book, Heath leaves the reader with heavy questions:
What does it look like to share the good news of Jesus, to make disciples of Jesus, among people who have been harmed in the name of Jesus? How does the church relate to those who have been harmed by the church? How do we practice evangelism in ways that aren’t themselves tantamount to coercion, domination, and abuse? (Kiser & Heath, 2023)
These are pertinent questions.
I acknowledge these realities as a missional leader and evangelist myself. Leading a global evangelism organization—one that is zealously evangelizing in 165 nations with over 400,000 monthly evangelistic volunteers and does so in tens of thousands of communities around the world—means that archaic, disgust-worthy, and traumatizing evangelism is an uncomfortable topic for me. While I wouldn’t fully adhere to a single-sided interpretation of all the experiences above, I believe there is enough truth in these claims to be taken seriously. I have felt and seen these same realities in my own personal journey. I know there are many others inside the Church, and even within evangelistic movements, who see these forms of evangelism as counterproductive as well.
I also acknowledge that some may read my naming of these things as a betrayal of conservative values.
Nonetheless, statistics point to the fact that the concept of evangelism is in decline, and I believe that this, in and of itself, deserves profound humility as we engage with the subject.
So, with this long list of valid complaints about evangelism, why don’t we just abandon the whole business of evangelism? What has gone wrong with our evangelism? I’ve wrestled through these issues personally, often painfully.
At the most basic level, I believe the practice of evangelism has failed to measure up to the ideal of evangelism. Something that should reflect the truth, goodness, and beauty of our God, in many cases, no longer lives up to these values.
But I believe it can.
I want to offer a hope-filled vision of all evangelism could be—of the possibility this soul practice holds. I want to share why evangelism still matters to me. In the next issue of Redeeming Missions, we’ll dive deeper into a vision for evangelism rooted in goodness, beauty, and truth.
[1] According to researchers, disgust is “The experience of disgust encourages individuals to distance themselves from the emotion eliciting source, thereby limiting contact and exposure to the potentially infectious or toxic target.” Brown, Brené. Atlas of the Heart (p. 230). Random House Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Bibliography
Barna. (2019). Reviving Evangelism. Barna Group.
Kiser, C., & Heath, D. A. (2023). Trauma Informed Evangelism. Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company.
Kreeft, P. (2020). Wisdom of the Heart. Gastonia, North Carolina: TAN Books.
Stearns, R. (2009). The Hole in our Gospel. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.
GO DADDDDD🥳🥳🥳🥳
Excellent. I love the connection of evangelism with public relations issues. The Love your Neighbor tools of EHC are responding to this paradigm. Great article, waiting for the next one.