Bringing the Gospel Home E-Book

Randy Newman

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 324

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2011

Beschreibung

Sharing the gospel with a family member can be an exciting experience—and often a long, painful, and confrontational one. Randy Newman recognizes it can be more difficult and frustrating to witness to a family member than to nearly anyone else. In Bringing the Gospel Home, he delivers practical, holistic strategies to help average Christians engage family members and others on topics of faith. A messianic Jew who has led several family members to Christ, Newman urges Christians to look to the Bible before they evangelize. He writes, "a richer understanding of biblical truth, I have found, can provide a firmer foundation for bold witness and clear communication." After a brief introduction on the nature of family, he delves into discussions of grace, truth, love, humility, and time. He also addresses issues related to eternity and end-of-life conversations. Bringing the Gospel Home will help any Christian as he seeks to guide loved ones into God's family.

Leseprobe

“Newman has given us a well-written book full of wisdom on how to accomplish a very difficult task—witness to our own relatives. The pages are lucid, wise, honest, humorous, and convicting all at once. The stories of successes and failures powerfully hit home. The suggestions of leading questions and ideas for sharing the faith at the end of the chapters are outstanding. I believe God will use this wonderful book to lead many relatives to Christ.”

Robert Peterson, Professor of Systematic Theology, Covenant Theological Seminary

“Bringing the Gospel Home keeps its promise to give hope to Christians who long to see family members come to Christ. Newman builds his approach on solid theology, offers sound advice, and highlights his insights with rich stories that connect head and heart in the art of bringing people to Jesus. The methods in this book, while focused on winning family, are easily transferable to sharing the gospel with anyone. I recommend this book to all who want to increase their skills at sharing the good news with others.”

Jerry Root, Associate Professor of Evangelism and Leadership, Wheaton College; coauthor, The Sacrament of Evangelism

“Pastoring in a city that can be political to the point of being polemical, and diplomatic to the point of being deceitful, I tend to notice those people who embody truth-loving tact. Randy Newman is one of those people. And his skill at sharing the gospel is exemplary. Here, Newman shows us how to witness boldly and winsomely to our nonbelieving family members. Many would benefit by reading this book.”

John Yates, Rector, The Falls Church, Falls Church, Virginia

“Newman has challenged and charmed lay audiences as a plenary speaker at apologetics conferences sponsored by the Evangelical Philosophical Society. His approach to evangelism is a wonderful blend of thoughtful faith and deep compassion for people. You will be inspired by his insights.”

William Lane Craig, Research Professor of Philosophy, Talbot School of Theology; founder, Reasonable Faith, www.reasonablefaith.org

“This is one scary title. But if you think you’ve got a story to tell about family versus faith, listen to Randy’s own, and the others he’s collected here. And hear his hopeful and wise reflections. They will help you out of the sticky place you’re in.”

C. John Sommerville, Professor Emeritus of English History, University of Florida; author, How the News Makes Us Dumb

“Listening is as much of persuasion—perhaps more—as is explaining. Newman shows how we can engage our families winsomely, respectfully, and with the grace and truth that alone can transform lives for eternity. Introducing loved ones to Jesus can be as difficult as it is imperative. Bringing the Gospel Home provides us with a user-friendly roadmap.”

Robert Schwarzwalder, Senior Vice President, Family Research Council

Bringing the Gospel Home: Witnessing to Your Family Members, Close Friends, and Others Who Know You Well

Copyright © 2011 by Randy Newman

Published by Crossway

               1300 Crescent Street

               Wheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law.

“I Just Want to See You There,” words and music by Michael and Sally O’Connor © Copyright 1991 Improbable People Ministries. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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First printing 2010

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Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked nasb are from The New American Standard Bible®. Copyright © The Lockman Foundation 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995. Used by permission.

Scripture quotations marked niv are from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 Biblica. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. The “NIV” and “New International Version” trademarks are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica. Use of either trademark requires the permission of Biblica.

Scripture references marked nrsv are from The New Revised Standard Version. Copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A. Published by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A.

All emphases in Scripture quotations have been added.

Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-1371-8

PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-1372-5

Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-1373-2

ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-2433-2

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Newman, Randy, 1956–

    Bringing the Gospel home : witnessing to family members, close friends, and others who know you well / Randy Newman.

           p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references.

ISBN 978-1-4335-1371-8 (tp)

1. Witness bearing (Christianity) 2. Families—Religious aspects—Christianity. I. Title.

BV4520.N458 2011

248'.5—dc22

2010044482

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

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Joyfully dedicated to my three sons,

Dan, David, and Jon.

“Sons are a heritage from the LORD.”

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

11

Introduction

13

1.Family: A Beatitude and Yet a Burden

25

2.Grace: Amazing and Yet Breaking

51

3.Truth: Liberating and Yet Narrow

77

4.Love: Always Craved, and Yet Seldom Conveyed

105

5.Humility: Divinely Modeled and Yet Difficult to Find

131

6.Time: Freeing and Yet Fleeting

155

7.Eternity: Comforting and Yet Terrifying

181

Epilogue

209

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Behind every book stands a cast of characters who made it possible. This one is no exception. First, I am thankful for the many people who shared their stories with me about witnessing to their family. Many of them cried. Their vulnerability and compassion for their relatives moved me greatly.

My second family, the Olive Tree Congregation, lovingly led by my dear friends Dan and Cynthia Strull, provided me with a home away from home and lots of prayer while working on this book.

Many friends encouraged me greatly while writing. I offer thanks for the strength I gained from Spencer Brand, Patrick Dennis, Mark Petersburg, Lin Johnson, Glenn Oeland, the Washington, DC, Campus Crusade staff team, my Faculty Commons co-laborers, our church couples’ group, and the George Mason Faculty Fellowship.

I am grateful to God for shaping my thinking through three important influences: the sermons of Tim Keller, the theological writings of D. A. Carson, and just about every word written by or about C. S. Lewis.

And how could I write a book about family without acknowledging how thankful I am for mine?

Mom and Dad, thank you for thinking so highly of me and letting me know you think I’m great. You’re deluded, of course. But I’m thankful to God for your love for me.

Barry, Ellen, Brian, and Susy, thank you for valuing family so much that you’re willing to travel ridiculous amounts of miles just to have Chinese food together.

Dan, David, and Jon, thank you for providing nonstop joy and “outright prolonged laughter.”

And, Pam, thank you for being a woman of valor, the wife of my youth, my most serious critic, my most diligent proofreader, my biggest cheerleader, and my dearest life partner. Without you, I wouldn’t value family enough to write this book, feel confident enough to express myself, or enjoy family enough to want others do the same.

INTRODUCTION

When I informed a friend I was writing a book on witnessing to family, he told me he had the perfect chapter titles:

Chapter 1: Don’t Do It! Chapter 2: Don’t Do It! Chapter 3: Did You Think I Was Kidding? Chapter 4: Pray for Somebody Else to Do It Chapter 5: Review Chapters 1, 2, and 3

He then offered several firsthand stories of how not to witness to family. And he had more from where those came from. Since then, many others have volunteered the same kinds of illustrations. Apparently, horror stories outnumber success stories.

This hasn’t deterred me. In fact, it has propelled me to write this book with a sense of urgency. Since my first book, Questioning Evangelism, was published in 2004, God has opened up many opportunities for me to speak about witnessing. During the question-and-answer periods that follow my presentations, inquiries about reaching out to family with the gospel have always been the most frequent and painful questions posed. People want to know how they can engage their loved ones with the good news. After my presentations, people come up to tell me, through tears, of their atheistic father or bitter mother or gay brother or drug-addicted sister or cult-ensnared daughter or backslidden cousin, and on and on it goes.

Some tell of family members who once held closely to the faith. Their testimonial goes something like this: “We were raised in a great Christian home but now my brother wants nothing to do with God.” Sometimes the drama moves in the opposite direction: “I was raised Jewish (or Muslim or Hindu or Buddhist), and I came to faith in college. My parents have almost disowned me.” Sometimes the disowning actually happens. One woman told me that her father, a Hindu priest, warned her, “If you ever step foot in a church again, I will kill myself.” (More about her situation later).

In some instances the “prodigals” ran away from a Christian home and now wallow in the mud (or the drugs or the sex or whatever other messes the Devil finds for them). In other settings the ones who became Christians are considered the rebels! The difference in the levels of pain seems minimal.

My purpose in this book is to offer hope. Consider that Scripture often describes God’s work in salvation as a miracle. He “makes alive” what was once “dead” (Eph. 2:1–5); he “delivered us from the domain of darkness” (Col. 1:13); and he explained that “with man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). Once we realize that evangelism occurs in the realm of the miraculous, we start praying more faithfully, trusting more wholeheartedly, and proclaiming more gently. When we relinquish trust in our ability to pursuade and latch onto God’s power to save, we find hope beyond explanation.

In the process of researching this topic, I interviewed dozens of Christians with stories to tell—some with happy endings, some with other kinds of finales, and some still waiting to see how it all turns out. In this book I share some of their stories. All of them, regardless of how unsaved relatives have responded, hold encouraging lessons tucked inside.

Let me begin by telling you one of my favorite stories.

I grew up in a Jewish family and came to believe in Jesus as the Messiah when I was a sophomore in college. That means I have a Jewish mother. All those Jewish mother jokes you’ve heard are true . . . but they’re not funny. Telling my Jewish parents that I now embraced Christianity (what they thought of as “the faith of the Nazis”) was no picnic. They responded politely, but I have no idea what they said to each other after we got off the phone. (By the way, telling family members about your newfound faith in person—face to face—is much better than telling them over the phone. I was a chicken.)

Priding themselves as true liberals, my parents (my Dad was silent on the phone while my mother did all the talking) simply told me they were happy for me. In a way that only a Jewish mother could intone, “I’m happy” sounded more like “You’ve made me miserable.” What followed were two requests and three wishes I will never forget:

Request 1: Don’t tell Grandma and Grandpa. Request 2: Stay away from your younger brother. Wish 1: We hope you won’t join some commune in Colorado. Wish 2: We hope you won’t try to change the world. Wish 3: We hope you won’t shave your head.

I’ve often amused myself with the thought that I now work for Campus Crusade for Christ, an organization that meets every other summer in Colorado and was founded under the motto, “Come help change the world.” However, I have never shaved my head.

My first attempts to witness to my parents were met with stonewalled resistance. “We’re happy for you” was always inseparably followed by the word “but.” “. . . but don’t talk to us about this,” “. . . but we don’t want to hear about this,” “. . . but please talk about something else . . . anything else.” I got the message. Jesus was off limits.

That didn’t stop me from sending books, pamphlets, and long letters imploring my parents to be true to their Jewish roots and embrace the Jewish Messiah who was promised by Jewish prophets.

Once I even sent them the Jesus film, a presentation of the Gospel of Luke, in Hebrew. (I had already sent them a copy of the film in English, which they didn’t watch). My parents don’t speak a word of Hebrew, but somehow I thought they’d be impressed that Jesus spoke the same language as Moses. Of course, the fact that the Hebrew was dubbed into the film didn’t seem to deter me from sending it. They never watched the Hebrew version either. Like its English counterpart, it collected dust on the shelf near their television.

Once I invited my parents to a Messianic Jewish congregation’s Friday night worship service. They walked out.

I also sent them a copy of my favorite book for telling Jewish people about the gospel, Stan Telchin’s Betrayed. It’s a masterfully crafted intertwining of the author’s testimony with biblical arguments for the messiahship of Jesus. Telchin tells of his daughter’s going away to college and finding Jesus, an offense to his Jewish sensibilities that needed to be countered. He felt “betrayed” and set out on a year-long research project to prove his daughter wrong. What he found, instead, was irrefutable and irresistible evidence that led him, his wife, and their other daughter to faith in the Messiah. His book has been used countless times to lead Jewish people to faith. Surely, I thought, a book as wonderful as this would be the silver bullet that would usher my parents into the fold. My mother read it, made no comment, and then gave it away to someone who she said, “really needed something like that.”

Nothing worked. For decades. All the “frontal assaults” failed to have any kind of impact. To be honest, I have to tell you that at some point I gave up hope. I stopped praying and probably harbored some bitterness toward God that he hadn’t chosen my parents to be among the elect.

Then one day my Mom and I had a pivotal phone conversation. She recounted an experience she had at a funeral for a teacher at the high school I had attended. I knew this man. He was a sarcastic, bitter atheist who suffered for over two years as a debilitating cancer ate away at his body. Hearing the reports of his gradual demise was a painful process. Worse than the medical aspects of the story were the spiritual ones. He never softened as he approached death. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that he grew in bitterness as the end approached.

My mother, whose religious philosophy at the time could be summed up as “everyone goes to heaven,” told me of her attempts to comfort the deceased man’s grieving adult children.

“Don’t worry,” she told them, “at least now your father is in a better place.”

Their response surprised my mother. Having embraced their father’s skepticism, they rolled their eyes in disdain for my mother’s naiveté and rudely walked away from her. She told this, I believe, to elicit some sympathy from me. After all, I was her “religious” son, and I certainly would give credence to her attempts to point atheists toward the supernatural.

I was torn. I was grateful that my mother thought about the afterlife. But I couldn’t help thinking about numerous passages of Scripture that argue the exact opposite of my mom’s position. Indeed I did not believe my former teacher was in a better place. I had visions of flames and worms and gnashing of teeth. I wanted to preach an entire sermon, right there and then, on the phone, about everlasting torment, wrath, and sulfur.

I opted, instead, to ask my mother a question.

“Mom, how do you know that?”

Long pause.

“How do I know what?” she replied.

“How do you know he’s in a better place? It sounds like you know that with a great deal of confidence. What makes you so sure?”

I should tell you that Jewish-Mother-guilt can be conveyed with silence, even over the telephone, just as powerfully as face to face. I knew my mother was upset with me. But I also knew that, for seventy years, she had been stuck in a religious frame of reference that needed to be challenged. If not now, when?

Finally, she said, “I guess I don’t know that.”

This was a breakthrough. Nothing I had ever said, sent, diagramed, or preached had ever seemed to get through. This was different. She budged from confident assurance of belief in a lie to an uncomfortable doubt that could lead to searching and questioning. I wanted to sing the Hallelujah chorus!

The rest of our phone call was strained. Somewhere in there I elaborated, “Well, maybe you should do some research about this.” In just a few minutes, we hung up. But I was thankful that something had finally shaken my mother’s naïve confidence. Maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to doubt that anyone could go to heaven, regardless of his life’s experiences or faith position.

We didn’t talk about matters of faith for a very long time after that phone call. And then my parents bought their first computer. They signed up for Internet service and learned how to send me e-mail . . . lots of e-mail . . . most of which had musical attachments. Suddenly, a mode of communication opened up between my mother and me that didn’t seem threatening to her. She was able to express doubts and ask questions with less fear than ever. Mind you, she was now seventy-one years old and this was more than twenty years after I had become a believer.

One day my mother sent me an e-mail that read, “I think I might try to read the New Testament.” I wanted to print that e-mail and frame it. “Well, I’d love to hear what you think about it, Mom,” I replied, trying to understate my enthusiasm. Over the next year, our e-mails contained frequent interaction about Jesus in the Gospels. Her questions were challenging:

“Why did Jesus say you should hate your father and mother?”

“Why did people try to kill him so many times?”

“What’s so good about turning the other cheek?”

I resisted the temptation to just give answers. I found that answering her questions with questions was more productive. Not only was this a very Jewish style of communication, but it engaged her in the thinking process far better than just telling her what I thought. So I hit reply and typed out things like:

“Why do you think Jesus said such an outrageous thing?”

“What was it about Jesus’ claims that would bother people so much?”

“What could be some possible advantages to turning the other cheek? What alternative would be better?”

For months our “dialogues” forced her to think differently than she had for seven decades. Along the way, I started praying for her salvation—again. In fact, my prayers became more focused and earnest. Could it actually be that my Jewish mother could come to faith? Is God that powerful? Is he that good?

The next framable e-mail my mother sent read, “I think I’m beginning to think like you, Randy, that Jesus was the Messiah.” I quickly replied, “Would you say that he’s your Messiah?” She responded, “Not yet.”

But one day, just as unexpectedly as every other step along the way, my mother asked me if I’d ever heard of a book called Betrayed by some guy named Stan Telchin. (There are advantages to communicating by e-mail. It allows you to yell things out loud like, “Well, yes, of course I’ve heard of that book. I gave you a copy of it years ago and you gave it away to someone else!” Then, after you get that kind of outburst out of the way, you can calmly hit reply and type, “Yes. I think I have heard about it. Why do you ask?”)

A few more e-mails explained why she liked the book so much and how she appreciated getting it from a friend who had written a personalized note inside the cover, and that the book had sat on her shelf for at least five years, and that she’d like to discuss it over the phone with me sometime. I couldn’t wait.

That phone call had all the markings of supernatural intervention about it. My mother’s eyes had been opened. God’s timing is not my timing, his ways are not my ways, and, best of all, his power is not my power. There was a gentleness in my mother’s voice that gave evidence of new life. I almost fell to my knees when I heard her say, “My only problem is knowing that I’m going to get opposition from all my Jewish friends and relatives when I tell them that now I’m a believer in Jesus. But I guess God will help me with that too.” Chokingly, I said, “Yes. I’m sure he will.”

A short time later, my mother was baptized—by my brother who had become a Christian and was serving as a pastor in the Netherlands. (Yes. The brother my parents told me to stay away from! That’s another story. I’ll share that later.) Whenever I’m in the mood to cry, I pop open the photo, stored on my computer, of my mother being baptized by my brother.

Some Assumptions of This Book

Watching my seventy-five-year-old Jewish mother come to faith, and somehow, mysteriously, having God involve me in the process, has taught me numerous lessons. I’ve seen the value of patience, the significance of prayer, the marvel of grace, and the power of love. I’ll share some more insights about those lessons, along with many others, throughout this book. But allow me to share some insight on how I think about this whole process before going any further. Three foundational assumptions shape my view of telling your earthly family about your heavenly father.

First, I realize that most Christians are not evangelists. Consequently, for them evangelism is not easy. A problem often arises because many of the people who speak and write about evangelism are evangelists. For them, evangelism is easy. It’s as natural as breathing. They can’t imagine not witnessing to anyone and everyone who comes their way. They tend to make the rest of us feel guilty.

They say, “I cannot sleep at night unless I have witnessed to at least one soul that day.” When I hear that (and I have found I am not alone), I usually think, “I sleep just fine!” Or they tell how they always pray for a witnessing opportunity as soon as they sit down at their seat on an airplane. I pray for there to be an empty seat next to me.

When we’re told that witnessing should come naturally, we’re set up for failure and frustration. For the vast majority of Christians, evangelism never seems natural and never flows easily. As a result we fall into one of several pits. Either we sound like someone we’re not, evangelizing with a different tone of voice than we use for every other topic. Or we wait for it to “feel right” or easy and, when that doesn’t happen, we clam up. Or we beat up on ourselves for not being bold enough, smart enough, or quick enough. Thus we tell people “good news” but sound more racked with guilt than liberated by grace.

These are just the potential problems with witnessing to strangers or acquaintances. Witnessing to family members— the ones who have known us the longest, seen us at our worst, and are the least likely to fall for our facades—seems infinitely more daunting. To help you tackle this all-important task, I have included three ingredients in each chapter: insights from the Scriptures, stories of others who have learned some lessons along the way, and specific steps you can take to make progress in bringing the gospel home.

Second, you might have expected this book to be organized differently. Perhaps you thought there’d be one chapter on witnessing to parents, one on siblings, one on aging grandparents, etc. I considered this but saw at least two problems with that approach. The bigger problem is that the issues really don’t break up that way. There are so many over-arching dynamics that transcend specific relationships. The more I talked to people who had seen loved ones come to faith, the more I observed themes that applied to both parents and children, brothers and sisters, the aging and the immature, etc. It seemed more helpful to examine universal factors like grace, truth, love, humility, time, eternity, and hope. Wrestling with these issues may prove more helpful than mere “how-to” recipes of “say this,” “don’t say this,” “remember to do this.”

If the chapters were about specific relationships, a smaller, yet significant problem could arise. You might merely read just the chapter that you thought applied to you and miss out on the insight shared in the other sections. Even worse, you could simply pick this book up in a bookstore, skim only “your” chapter and, horror of all horrors, not buy the book! We simply can’t have that.

Third, it is important to remember that this book is far more about God and the gospel than it is about you and your family. I wrestle with weightier matters than mere relational dynamics in these pages. All of the chapters contain some theological reflection to put a frame around the practical instruction about evangelism. Please be patient. You might be tempted to skip the theological parts. But a richer understanding of biblical truth, I have found, can provide a firmer foundation for bold witness and clear communication.

Besides, many people reject the gospel today because they think Christians are shallow simpletons. In many cases, they have a legitimate gripe. Let’s stop giving them ammunition for that charge and instead dig deeper into the Scriptures and think biblically about all of life.

The first few chapters especially focus more on your understanding of the gospel than your sharing of the good news. It would be the height of irony to speak of sharing the message of God’s gracious offer of salvation but point the spotlight on you. My hope is to avoid a common trap when teaching about evangelism—that is, to leave you obsessed with how you’re coming across, what you should say, what you must remember, what you need to feel, say, and do, and when you need to be bolder, smarter, quicker, and holier.

Instead, my hope is that grace will amaze you more than ever. My prayer is that God’s love will spill over into your conversations, gratitude will infuse your prayers, joy will transform your tone of voice and, like the prophet Micah, you will praise God and say: “Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy” (Mic. 7:18, niv).

FAMILY

A Beatitude and Yet a Burden

Paulette came home for Christmas break from her freshman year of college armed with enough evangelistic tracts for each of her siblings.1 Her two sisters and one brother were going to hear the gospel whether they wanted to or not. After all, this method of sharing the gospel in concise booklet form had worked in her life.

Having been raised in a nominal Christian family that occasionally attended church (and a rather liberal one at that), she had gone off to college with no interest in God or religion. But a campus evangelist caught her attention and started getting through to her. As she listened to his logical, intellectually respectable evidence for the resurrection of Jesus, she thought he was proclaiming a “new religion.” At least, it was new to her.

This was no open-air ranting lunatic. He spoke calmly and reasonably to a packed audience in the university’s student center auditorium and handed out comment cards for people to indicate interest in further discussion. Paulette couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched her hand writing her name and dorm address on the card and check the box marked “more information.” Less than one week later, two girls stopped by her room and presented the good news by doing something anyone could do: they read a short booklet and asked Paulette if she’d like to pray the prayer on the last page.

She did and she prayed and it changed her life.

So certainly the same pattern would play itself out back at home. She lined up her three younger siblings against the wall of her bedroom (after making sure that Mom and Dad were nowhere in sight). She gave them each their own copy of the booklet and read each page aloud. The fifteen- and thirteen-year-old sisters and the ten-year-old brother cowered in submission under their big sister’s orders to listen. When she asked them if they’d like to pray the prayer, they all said yes. Paulette was elated (and relieved). Not only were her precious sisters and darling brother joining her in this newfound faith, but this method of evangelism had not let her down.

That was over thirty years ago and her faith has remained strong.

But the fruit from her evangelistic lineup did not endure. The elder of the two sisters continued to drink her way through high school, went off to college and partied with the best of them, and only calmed down years later—after finding peace and tranquility in the New Age movement. The younger sister puzzled everyone in the family for years because, despite her good looks, she never had a boyfriend. When she told everyone she was a lesbian, that all made sense. And Paulette’s little baby brother, who showed signs of intense devotion to Christ throughout his entire four years of college, one day decided the Christian faith just doesn’t work, walked away from his marriage to a Christian woman, and still finds more relevance in secular motivational speakers than in the Scriptures.

Paulette now regrets her lining up of relatives against the wall and would urge Christians to find other strategies. This book is an attempt to explore those other methods. But before we launch into that part of the task, a bit of study about the nature of the family and the truth of the gospel needs to set the stage for training and how-tos.2

God’s Plan for the Family

A singles’ pastor once told me, “There’s no drama like family drama.” Ever since, I’ve wondered why this is so. Perhaps it is because the stakes are so high. God’s design for the family is so important, so profound, and so powerful that the Devil points his most potent weapons at this most crucial target. Given that scenario, it is no wonder we feel like we’re on a contested, spiritual battlefield more often than at a serene, Norman Rockwellesque dinner table.

A full appreciation for why God loves families so much and why the Evil One hates them so much sets an important backdrop for our investigation of how to share the good news with our relatives.

Family Is Important

Our discussion of the high value God places upon the family must begin with a look at the very nature of a Trinitarian God. He calls himself “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”3 He could have chosen terms other than ones related to family. But he didn’t. Even though the title of “father” is found less often in the Old Testament than in the New, it is not out of place in the books of the law, the prophets, and the writings. The notion that God can be understood as a caring, nurturing, protecting Abba pervades both testaments.

Just one example, a rather substantial one, should suffice for our argument. When the prophet Isaiah arrived at that climactic moment of his Immanuel prophecy, declaring that the Messiah will be with us, he revealed God’s trust-inspiring titles of “Wonder-Counselor, Almighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace” (Isa. 9:6, my translation). Right there in the midst of some of the loftiest titles of deity stands the label “Father.”

Thus, it is not without scriptural warrant that the Jewish community crafted and recites one of its holiest prayers, Avinu, Malkenu—“Our Father, Our King.” The rabbis of old recognized God’s immanent, gentle, and intimate nature found in his title “father” as well as his transcendent, royal, and holy nature seen in “king.” He is both loving and ruling, to be trusted and revered, the one we rest in and bow before. Our response to him is both as sons and servants, children and worshipers, in delight and in awe.

Jesus’ frequent use of the term “Father” for the first person of the Trinity was consistent with the Old Testament’s depiction of God as one who “is gracious and compassionate . . . faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made . . . upholds all those who fall . . . and watches over all who love him . . .” (Ps. 145:8, 13–14, 20, niv).4

No wonder Paul connects the divine pattern to every earthly family in his prayer for the Ephesians, where he petitions “the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named” (Eph. 3:15) for strength, stability, grounding, and comprehension of God’s love (see Eph. 3:14–19). When families fulfill their God-ordained purposes, this kind of strength flows to and through all members in beautiful ways.

Consider some of the other family terminology linked to profound truths in the Scriptures. Those redeemed by the blood of Christ are called “sons” who have been “adopted.” The church is referred to as the “bride of Christ.” And, when all of time is culminated, at what kind of banquet will we feast? A “marriage supper.”

The point not to be missed is that the image of family is woven into the revelation of the godhead and displayed at crucial junctures of God’s written Word. Therefore, we must treat family with reverence and awe. It is a divinely ordained and shaped institution, not merely some culturally constructed convention that needs to be tolerated.

There are at least two implications of God’s Trinitarian nature upon our reflections about family. First, since God is relational, we who are created in his image are also relational. We are hard-wired for communal connections, of which family ties are the most intimate and important. Second, since God is others-oriented (the Father reveals the Son, the Son submits to the Father, the Holy Spirit seeks to bring glory to the Son, etc.), so we should be others-oriented. Selflessness validates our image-of-God-bearing nature. Selfishness violates it. Living our lives theocentrically, the ultimate display of other-centeredness, resonates with our very nature, our reason for being, and our deepest longings.

All this is to say that family dynamics weigh heavily in our lives. We who have been chosen by a heavenly Father, redeemed by an atoning Son, and sealed with a Holy Spirit should value family highly. Despite all the cultural trends that serve to lampoon and demean the institution of the family (even if we imagine our specific family’s portrait in the dictionary next to the word “dysfunctional”), we who have experienced the unmerited favor of God must look to him for the resources to uphold the high regard for this divinely ordained, all-important institution.

Family Is Intimate

When God established the family, he started with the most basic unit—a marriage between a man and a woman. He rolled out the blueprint for all time with this prescription: “a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh” (Gen. 2:24). When Jesus was challenged about possible escape clauses allowing for a divorce, he appealed to this “one-flesh” intimacy as the basis for preserving a marriage. When Paul argued against uniting with a prostitute, he recalled this “one-flesh” imagery as proof that mere “casual sex” was an impossibility and an oxymoron.

God further described intimacy as shamelessness by adding, “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed” (Gen. 2:25). These poetic statements imply far more than just sexual union. The man and the woman enjoyed unhindered oneness in all dimensions of their beings. They felt no need to hide from each other using fig leaves, lies, emotional withdrawal, or pretense. Adam and Eve had no need to explain, clarify, restate, employ active listening skills, offer alibis, or ever say, “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Just recently, I watched a pastor and his wife receive a standing ovation from their congregation as appreciation for over thirty years of caring for the church. The applause also rose out of gratitude for their modeling a marriage that endured through trials and pains. As the volume in the sanctuary rose to a level preventing anyone from overhearing, the husband whispered something in the ear of his bride. She laughed and the two of them exchanged a look that could only come after decades of intimacy. No one else knew what he said or what she thought, but we all felt a sense of awe for the intimacy these two had forged along the way.

Among the many disastrous results of Adam and Eve’s rebellion against God, painfully recounted in Genesis 3, are the impulses to hide from one another (hence the fig leaves). In other words, the fall brought about a marring of the one-flesh intimacy God intended as the foundation for family.

While obviously not to the level of sexual intimacy, a kind of openness and unashamedness should pass down from the intimate couple to all of the family, thus creating a kind of greenhouse that fosters trust, depth of communication, and a joy found nowhere else.