Jehovah’s Witnesses at My Door They backed off. They bailed out. They ran away. Will you? By: Gregory Koukl | related articles: Ground Rules for Talking to Mormons related radio broadcast: | |
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| It was Tuesday mid-morning and I'd been studying when I heard the knock on my door. When I opened it, two middle-aged women smiled at me pleasantly, bundles of apocalyptic literature in hand. Would I like to see their material? I mentioned there were two, but only the one in front--the one who'd knocked--had been speaking. The second stood quietly in the back, watching. Jehovah's Witnesses go out in pairs, an experienced Witness and a new disciple. The neophyte makes the initial contact, while the mentor waits protectively in the background, ready for a flanking maneuver should her young cadet get into trouble. I knew I had very little time to make an impact. For one, I was preparing for a lecture and was running against the clock. Still, I didn't want to send my visitors away empty-handed. Second, door-to-door types usually have little time for anyone who is biblically literate. Once I showed my hand I knew they'd disappear quickly, looking for an easier mark. I quickly gathered my thoughts and assembled a response. "I'm a Christian pastor," I said, directing my comments to the younger convert, the one less influenced by the Watchtower organization and more open to another viewpoint. "In fact, I'm studying theology right now." I held up the tome I'd been reading, Turretin's 18th century Institutes of Eclentic Theology. "It's clear we have some differences, including the vital issue of the identity of Jesus. I believe what John teaches in John 1:3, that Jesus is the uncreated Creator. This makes Him God." Mention of the deity of Christ was all that was needed to bring the rear guard into action. The person in the shadows spoke up for the first time. I honestly wasn't prepared for her response. "You're entitled to your opinion and we're entitled to ours," was all she said. No question, no challenge, no theological rejoinder. This was a dismissal, not a response. She turned on her heels and started for the next house--young cadet in tow--in search of more vulnerable game. I cast about for something to say that might slow their retreat. "You're also entitled to be wrong in your opinion," I said gently, but directly. I admit it wasn't a devastating rejoinder, but it was all I could think of. "Clearly we both can't be right, even though we're both entitled to our opinions." I was hoping for some kind of reaction, some kind of engagement, but my challenge had no effect. As they faded from the doorway I fired my final salvo, vainly hoping for a response. "Obviously, you're not interested in hearing any other point of view than your own." Then they were gone. In the moments that followed a host of questions flooded my mind. Did I use the right tactic? Would a different approach have been more effective? Did anything I say leave a good impression? Did I plant even a seed of doubt in the initiate's mind? I'll probably never know the answer to those questions, but the encounter was still educational. Notice a couple of things about this short exchange. First, what did these two missionaries do when they encountered someone who was biblically literate? What was their first response when I mentioned my background, then gave a thumbnail sketch of an argument striking right at the heart of their most cherished doctrine? They backed off. They bailed out. They ran away. What's wrong with this picture? If you were convinced that the medicine you held in your hand would save the life of a dying patient, would you turn on your heels, letting them perish just because they didn't like the taste of the treatment? Isn't that a strange response for a door-to-door evangelist, out to save the world, but taking flight at the first sign of disagreement? First, they weren't very confident of their message. Why should I take a single moment to consider an alleged message from God that the messenger himself wouldn't lift one finger to defend? Why should I respect the cause of a soldier who retreats at the first sign of resistance? Second, they weren't that interested in my salvation. If someone's genuinely interested in rescuing lost souls, their first impulse would be to find out what I believed and then correct my errant theology. Isn't that why they go door to door, to witness to the lost, to give them the truth about Jehovah God and invite them to join the Watchtower organization? But they didn't even listen to my point of view, much less try to correct my error. Do you know what that tells me? They didn't care much about my eternal destiny. Third, they don't take the issue of truth very seriously. Religious evangelism is a persuasive enterprise; the evangelist is trying to change people's minds. He thinks his view is true and other views are false. He also thinks the difference matters. Follow the truth, you win; follow a lie, you lose--big time. A commitment to truth (as opposed to a commitment to an organization) means an openness to refining one's own views, increasing the accuracy in understanding, constantly searching for more precision in thinking. A challenger could always turn out to be a blessing in disguise, an ally instead of an enemy. An evangelist who's convinced of his view would want to hear the very best arguments against it. One of two things is going to happen. He may discover that some objections to his view are good ones. The rebuttal helps him make adjustments and corrections in his thinking, refining his knowledge of the truth. Or it may turn out he's on solid ground after all. Developing answers to the toughest arguments against him strengthens both his witness and his own confidence in his religion. But my visitors didn't wait to hear my thoughts to inform their own beliefs, so they might know the truth more accurately. They didn't pause to hear the reasons I reject the Watchtower's authority, so they might try to refute me and gain confidence in their own view. One final thought occurred to me. Sometimes an evangelist is a Jeremiah, a lone voice faithfully proclaiming a message in the face of firmly entrenched unbelief. It will never be heeded, but it's still declared faithfully, an example of God gracious offer even to the recalcitrant, those who will never budge. But the two Witnesses didn't offer me a terse word of warning, even though they felt that my mind was made up. There was no faithful proclamation of their truth, just a rapid retreat. Which brings me to a final question. If these door-to-door evangelists weren't interested in getting me saved, or correcting my wrong notions about God, or refining their knowledge of the truth, or even being faithful to speak the truth in the face of opposition, then why were they knocking on my door? If they really believed that religious belief amounted to no more than individual opinion, what's the point of changing people's minds? There must have been some reason these ladies were out every week, risking discomfort, derision and ridicule. What was it? It wasn't out of faithfulness to God and His message, or they wouldn't have dismissed me so readily. It was out of faithfulness to an organization, the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society. These missionaries had done their time. They'd knocked on my door and offered me literature. Putting in the hours is what keeps them in "grace." Saving souls is not really the object. Neither is knowing the truth, nor deepening their faith, nor being faithful to proclaim the message. That's the danger of promoting an organization rather than being faithful to God's truth. Everything goes topsy-turvy. The means becomes the end and the life goes out of the whole enterprise. This holds some lessons for every Christian who takes his or her faith seriously: Don't be too quick to back down from opposition. First, as intelligent or aggressive as your opponent might seem, he still is, in fact, perishing without Christ. You don't know what internal struggles he's facing that don't show through his confident or gruff exterior. You don't know but that God will use your simple, gracious, but direct challenge to his beliefs and begin to melt his rebellious heart. Second, you might learn something. Maybe you're the one that's mistaken, at least in part. If your bad arguments are refuted, ditch them. The case for Christianity is too good to be compromised by bad defenses. But maybe you're not mistaken. If so, you want to be certain your faith can stand up to the most rigorous analysis. If someone has an objection, you don't have to answer it right then. Make sure you understand the objection clearly, then do some work on it. This will strengthen your own confidence. Finally, sometimes it's right to simply yet graciously tell the truth about God and man, even when man is not interested. There may be a day when your clear, confident words will come back to him. If it's not on this side of the grave, it will be in front of the throne, as evidence of God making the options clear even in the face of disinterest. Don't retreat in the face of the simplest opposition. Too much is at stake. Be the kind of soldier that instills respect even in the enemy because of your courage under fire. |
This is a transcript of a commentary from the radio show "Stand to Reason," with Gregory Koukl. It is made available to you at no charge through the faithful giving of those who support Stand to Reason. Reproduction permitted for non-commercial use only. ©1995 Gregory Koukl
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