ReDirecting Evangelism: From Public Proclamation to Disciplined Devotion

Hey Everyone,

Like many of you, I was heartbroken this week by the tragic murder of a young man deeply committed to his mission of spreading the gospel. You probably already know who I’m referring to. I’ve chosen not to use his name here—not out of avoidance, but because I don’t want to leverage his death for visibility.

What happened was horrific. The reactions have been wide-ranging: from shock and sadness to horror and anger. (For some who considered him an enemy, there were disturbing expressions of mockery - but I don’t want to focus there.) Those of us who heard this man speak—whether we always agreed with him or not—recognized that he was intelligent and deeply sincere. His death, especially at such a young age, feels spiritually significant.

In my earlier years of faith, I would’ve called him a martyr. I would have believed that he fought the good fight, and that dying for the gospel was proof of his devotion. I would have pictured him receiving crowns in heaven and God saying “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

And to be clear—I’m not saying that didn’t happen.

But of the many words that are used to describe this horrific tragedy - Good is not one of those words. There's nothing about this that is Good. And because I believe in a Good God, I can’t ignore the ache that rises when something feels so clearly… not good.

ROOTED ASSUMPTION

When tragedy strikes, it’s human nature to try to make sense of the pain—especially for those of us who believe in a good God. We want to find the silver lining. We look for meaning. We reach for language that frames it all as part of a divine plan. And in this case, as in most cases that end in martyrdom, the silver lining we hold onto is... evangelical in nature.

Many Christians (like myself) believe in Evangelism because of the Great Commission. If you attend church, I'm sure you've heard the verse.

King James Version (KJV)

• “And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: Teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you:

Considering how it is phrased, I can see why we think Jesus was saying to go out and teach people this new belief. But the word ‘teach’ here is μαθητεύσατε (mathēteusate)—from the root mathētēs, meaning disciple, learner, or apprentice.

It doesn't mean teach a lesson. It means form a life.

Which is why in the New King James Version... the verse actually reads... Go and Make DISCIPLES of all the nations.

This shift in definition actually matters greatly. Teaching is often public and momentary. Discipling is personal and enduring. Teaching spreads information. Discipleship requires formation. Teaching is often public and momentary. Discipling is personal and enduring. Teaching spreads information. Discipleship requires formation.

But perhaps the more pervasive and unspoken belief behind our interpretation of the Great Commission is this: that Evangelism is the Mission. And if the Mission matters more than the individual, then Martyrdom becomes the ultimate form of evangelism.

REVEALED IMAGE

Imagine this:

A man proposes to a woman. He tells her she’s loved, chosen, and set apart. He promises to care for her—but with a condition:

“This marriage isn’t really about you. It’s about my name. So here’s what I need: I want you to go out into the streets and tell everyone how great I am. You may be mocked, rejected, or even harmed, but don’t worry—if you suffer, it’ll make me look even better. The more you’re willing to lose, the more people will believe I’m worth loving. Your pain will be proof of my value. And if it costs you everything—even your life—know that I’ll reward you later.”

That’s what much of our evangelism sounds like if we pull it out of the spiritual language and just put it in plain relational terms.

And if any real bride heard that from her groom, we’d tell her to run.

Why? Because that’s not love. That’s not marriage. That’s not intimacy. That’s recruitment, not relationship.

But this is the image many Christians unconsciously carry of God. A bridegroom who wants loyalty more than connection.

Sacrifice more than flourishing. Public recognition more than private devotion.

And somehow, we’ve convinced ourselves this is effective—that people will want God if they see how much we love Him.

But that’s not how people learn who God is.

Watching a bride exhaust herself, lose herself, or even die doesn’t make others want the Groom.

RE-EXAMINED EVIDENCE

If the goal of evangelism is to draw people toward the heart of God, then we have to ask an honest question:

What actually draws people in?

Modern science—especially in the fields of neuroscience, psychology, and attachment—offers surprising insights that echo what scripture has always pointed to: It’s not our preaching that changes people. It’s our presence.

Let’s take a look.

• 1. Mirror Neurons: We’re Wired to Imitate What We See, Not What We Hear. Inside your brain are specialized cells—mirror neurons—that fire not just when you act, but when you watch someone else act. It’s the foundation of how we learn. Not by lectures. But by observation.

  • Translation: People don’t change because they’re told to. They change because they see something they want to become. A peaceful, joyful, disciplined life is neurologically contagious. It invites others into the same without a single word.

Source: Rizzolatti & Craighero, 2004 – “The Mirror-Neuron System”

• 2. Emotional Contagion: Regulated People Regulate Others. Our emotional states don’t stay in isolation—they ripple outward. A calm, grounded, self-disciplined person creates safety in the room. And safety is magnetic.

  • Translation: A regulated nervous system speaks louder than a passionate sermon. People don’t follow energy. They follow peace. Because peace makes them feel seen, stable, and safe.

Source: Goleman, 2006 – Social Intelligence; Cozolino, 2014 – The Neuroscience of Human Relationships

• 3. Attachment Theory: Relationships Form Us, Not Ideas. Evangelism often centers on getting the right ideas into people’s heads. But people aren’t changed by data. They’re changed by secure relationships that model something different.

  • Translation: Discipline in your personal life—your family, your habits, your relationships—forms the fertile ground where real transformation can grow. It’s not about being loud. It’s about being safe.

Source: Bowlby, 1988; Siegel, 2012 – The Developing Mind

• 4. Social Proof: People Follow Fruit, Not Claims. We all look for proof before we believe. It’s not enough to say your faith “works.” People are looking for fruit .Does your life reflect peace? Wholeness? Consistency?

  • Translation: A life quietly in order has more power than a message boldly shouted. People follow lives that work—not claims that sound convincing.

Source: Cialdini, 2001 – Influence: The Psychology of Persuasion

• 5. Neurological Overload: Too Much Talking Shuts the Brain Down. Ironically, the more words we use to “bring people to Christ,” the less likely they are to stay engaged. The brain begins to tune out, resist, or even defend. In contrast, mystery draws people in. The less you explain right away, the more people lean in to learn why your life looks different.

  • Translation: Evangelism isn’t about filling the silence. It’s about living a life that makes silence feel safe—and transformation feel possible.

Source: Loewenstein, 1994 – “The Psychology of Curiosity”

• 6. Spiritual Integrity & Cognitive Dissonance. When someone says one thing but lives another, it creates dissonance. People instinctively pull away. But when a life is coherent—when belief and behavior match—it builds trust.

  • Translation: Discipleship isn’t about volume. It’s about alignment. And alignment is magnetic. The greatest evangelists aren’t the loudest. They’re the most whole.

Source: Festinger, 1957 – Theory of Cognitive Dissonance

All of this evidence - neuroscience, psychology, even marketing - shows us that people are not transformed by preaching, but by presence. They are drawn in by what feels safe, beautiful, and whole. People are shaped by their daily disciplines far more than declarations.

And when we look at Scripture—not just a verse or two, but the entire narrative—I believe this is what God has been showing us all along.

RE-FRAMED BELIEF

If we look at the Bible as a whole, we see a different picture of evangelism than the one many of us were taught.

God didn’t choose Israel and then tell them to go out and convince the nations to follow Him. He gave them laws, traditions, and rhythms—not so they could preach to others, but so they could live differently. These disciplines shaped everything from how they ate, to how they rested, to how they treated the poor. And the goal wasn’t just obedience. It was beauty.

In Deuteronomy, God says that when the other nations see the way Israel lives, they’ll say, “What kind of people are these?” In other words, Israel was supposed to be so healthy, so ordered, so good to one another, that the outside world would want what they had.

It’s like watching a family that loves each other well. You don’t need them to explain their beliefs—you feel the difference just by being around them.

That’s how evangelism was meant to work. Not by chasing people down, but by building something beautiful they want to come toward.

When Jesus came, He didn’t change that model. He deepened it.

Instead of “Go tell people about me,” He said, “Go and make disciples.” And discipleship isn’t about words—it’s about relationship. You don’t become a disciple by attending a seminar. You become one by walking with someone day after day, learning how they live, and slowly changing through that example.

Jesus Himself modeled this. He lived with His disciples for years. They didn’t just hear what He believed—they watched Him eat, rest, grieve, serve, and pray. That’s how they were changed.

So when Jesus tells them to go and make disciples, He’s not asking them to start a speaking tour. He’s asking them to live lives that others can enter into. To build families, friendships, and habits that reflect His way of being. That kind of life can’t be faked. And it doesn’t require a stage.

In fact, Scripture calls the Church a bride. That image matters. Because in any wedding, the bride is the one people watch. She’s the one who’s radiant. But her beauty isn’t random. It comes from preparation, care, and discipline.

If you’ve ever watched a couple dance, you know what this looks like. The woman floats across the floor, and everyone sees her grace. But behind the beauty is the man’s steady lead. It’s not loud. It’s not flashy. But without it, the dance would fall apart.

That’s what God wanted: a people whose lives moved with grace, because they were led by Him. And the world would be drawn in—not by arguments, but by what they saw.

REFLECTIVE INVITATION

For generations, we’ve accepted martyrdom as the high mark of faith—as if dying for the cause proves our devotion, and somehow justifies our methods.

We look at the apostles, who went out preaching, got rejected, imprisoned, even killed, and we say, “See? Evangelism is supposed to be costly.” We assume their deaths confirmed their message.

But what if… they didn’t?

What if their deaths were never the goal—but the result of stepping outside the dance?

Jesus never told His followers to go throw themselves into enemy territory without wisdom. In fact, He warned them: “Do not cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.” (Matthew 7:6, NKJV)

That verse isn’t about elitism. It’s about discernment. It’s a reminder that not every truth belongs in every room. And that giving something sacred to someone unwilling or unable to receive it doesn’t end in transformation—it ends in tearing.

So we have to ask: If our model of evangelism often ends in tearing—if it results in burnout, rejection, hostility, or even death—is it possible we’ve misunderstood the assignment?

Is it possible that the apostles, though full of passion and sincerity, defaulted to mission over relationship—because they were men shaped by a world that prizes conquest over connection?

Jesus called Himself the Bridegroom. But many of His followers became warriors.

What if evangelism was never meant to be a battlefield… but a ballroom?

Because when you dance well—when your life is balanced, beautiful, and led by love—people don’t need a sermon. They come closer because they’re drawn to something steady, graceful, and good.

And when we ignore that model—when we rush out to proclaim instead of living lives worth imitating—we lose the subtle wisdom Jesus showed. We give our pearls to those who never asked. And sometimes, like He warned, they turn and tear us apart.

There’s no question the Apostles were brave and deeply committed to what they believed was the mission. But if God’s plan was always to form a beautiful bride that would draw the nations through her discipline… then maybe the disciples misunderstood Jesus’ sacrifice.

Maybe they tried to follow Him as if He were a model for their role, not realizing—Jesus wasn’t the bride. He was the Bridegroom. He gave Himself for her.

But the Bride? Her power wasn’t in mimicking His death. It was in receiving His love… and then reflecting it with disciplined devotion.

Jacqueline Marie