How To Talk To An Atheist About God
By: Bebe Nicholson
Tags: Evangelism, Spirituality, Christianity, Religion, Faith

Several years ago, my minister advised us to have an “elevator speech” ready when people asked us why we believed in God.

An elevator speech, as I’m sure you know, is a clear, brief message that communicates the point you’re trying to make in the time it would take an elevator to go from the top of a building to the bottom.

I didn’t have an elevator speech then, and I don’t have one now. But the minister’s words made me think about how I would explain my reasons for believing to someone who doesn’t believe.

Why am I a Christian? Why do I think my beliefs are real and true when those who don’t believe are just as convinced of their truth?

Some believers use apologetics to explain their faith. They cite works by agnostics who became Christians, or they point to the historicity of Jesus and the wisdom of scripture.

In the time it takes an elevator to move from the top of a building to the bottom, I could probably rattle off a list of books that make the case for faith; books like The Case for Christ by Lee Strobel, Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, or Evidence That Demands a Verdict by Josh McDowell. But I doubt my “evidence” would matter to people who are adamant in their unbelief. Those who have thought about it at all probably have their own list of books to refute my arguments. And those who haven’t thought about it aren’t likely to embrace my ideas.

One pastor said, “Just tell your story; how you came to believe.” Another one told me, “Tell them Jesus loves them, died for them, and all they have to do is believe.” These are good things to say, and I commend people who can deliver that heartfelt witness.

But, my own personal story has no great lightning bolt of revelation to rivet the listener. It’s a dull story of slow growth, backsliding, doubt and faith woven together in an unfinished tapestry. And telling someone Jesus loves them outside the context of a loving relationship feels to me forced and impersonal, like handing out pamplets or asking people if they’ve been saved.

Maybe I’m just not an evangelist. Maybe the elevator pitch isn’t my spiritual gift.

My partner, who was as staunch in his unbelief as he is now in his belief, says, “The reward/risk ratio is infinitely weighted in the direction of faith. God offers us a tremendous deal for just a mustard seed of faith. Sometimes the smallest glimmer of acceptance is all that’s needed as a first step toward a very strong faith.”

I agree with him, but how do you plant a mustard seed of faith in somebody else? Jesus performed miracles, and he still encountered unbelief. If he did miracles and people doubted, what chance do I have with my limited powers of persuasion?

The miracles I’ve experienced are memories I hold dear. They arrived unexpectedly, gifts that confirmed and strengthened my faith. But the things I call miracles would likely be met with skepticism or chalked up to coincidence by others. I’ve concluded that people need to experience their own miracles; their own encounter with Jesus.

Maybe there’s nothing I could say in the length of time it takes an elevator to move from the top of the building to the bottom that would convert the atheist. My partner was agnostic, an unbeliever, a person of science and logic, and I didn’t convince him with my arguments. He only came to faith many years after we married. He says it was because he observed my joy, and wanted to experience a sense of joy and purpose in his own life. It had nothing to do with what I told him about religion.

As a public school teacher, he can’t mention religion or faith in school. But he made me think in a new way about sharing my faith. He said, “Because I can’t talk about my faith in the school setting, it’s more important than ever to walk the walk. I need to show Christ by my actions.” He does this by caring about his students. He accepts them for who they are and tries to help them be the people they are capable of being.

Maybe Christians need to view sharing the love of Jesus in a new way; not through an elevator speech designed to convert, but through a relationship designed to reveal the caring, compassionate nature of Christ.

Too many people have been hurt by organized religion, by those who claim to be Christians, by charlatans who use their faith as a sledgehammer. I run into more and more of these people, damaged and broken by those who should have loved and nurtured their fragile spirits.

Jesus blasted these types of religious people: “You’re hopeless, you religion scholars and Pharisees! Frauds! You keep meticulous account books, tithing on every nickel and dime you get, but on the meat of God’s Law, things like fairness and compassion and commitment, the absolute basics, you carelessly take it or leave it.” (Matthew 23: 23 in The Message)

Jesus also said, “They talk a good line, but they don’t live it. They don’t take it into their hearts and live it out in their behavior. It’s all spit and polish veneer.” (Matthew 23:1–3, The Message).

Are too many of us modern-day Pharisees, making sure people do everything “by the book,” but failing to allow the love of Christ to transform our hearts and enable us to see every person as valuable and beloved? Have we become so complacent in our faith and so comfortable with our lives that we forget true faith calls us to a higher purpose?

Maybe my problem with an elevator speech is that we don’t form relationships in elevators. And we need relationships before we can show what it means to be a Christ-follower. Christ didn’t come so we could convert people to a religion. He said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10).

What would happen if Christians, instead of trying to legislate morality for unbelievers, revealed the nature of our faith by reaching out in love, to lighten the load of the suffering and mend the brokenness of the broken-hearted? What if, instead of being mired in theological differences and church doctrine, we agreed to disagree and love each other, anyway? What would happen if we truly embraced the life Christ called us to?

Maybe God doesn’t give me an elevator speech because he is more concerned that I lend a hand rather than win a convert. Maybe he knows my own spiritual growth occurs, not through a verbal proclamation that Jesus is Lord, but through living out that truth daily.