Donut theology
I really don't know whether I made this term up or not, but when I am asked to think about how to reach Group X with the gospel—whether it be Generation Y, men, women or Iranian Muslims—I keep thinking of the idea of a ‘donut’. A part of me wonders if setting up these sorts of questions predispose us towards coming up with a donut answer—i.e. one that has plenty to say around the periphery and margins of a subject, but reveals a great gaping hole in the centre where the facts of the gospel ought to stand.
The gospel tells me that the greatest need of any group of humans is to hear the word of God. That word is a word of judgement on sin and a word of undeserved grace shown through the Lord Jesus Christ. When any man puts their trust in the Lord Jesus (be they Generation Y or female or an Iranian Muslim), they pass over from death to life; they become a new creation.
That Iranian Muslims are considerably less belligerent, and more sympathetic to Christianity than the media profile of Muslims in Australia suggests, is probably true. For most Christians, the practical upshot of this is that it is easier to have a friendly gospel conversation with such a person. But in theological terms, they are just as difficult to reach as the most pompous secular materialist we are ever likely to cross apologetic swords with. This is because they are dead in their sins, just as we were dead in our sins before God (who is rich in mercy) raised us to life in Christ.
This makes me wonder whether questions of how to reach particular subgroups of humanity with the gospel would be better framed in a different way. Too often questions like these lead us into the unstated assumption that if we can just crack the cultural code, people will be more receptive to the gospel. We observe that one group prefers to use YouTube, another dislikes attacks on the perpetual virginity of Mary, a third group are indifferent to ideology, and yet another subculture is appalled by Western immorality. But we forget that all alike refuse to submit to the Holy Spirit, and hate everything God stands for.
But if we want to ask questions about opportunities and cultural obstacles (and the Bible very occasionally does raise questions of being “all things to all men”), why not rather turn the spotlight on ourselves and ask what it means to obey the command “Love your neighbour”? This places the gospel front and centre, because the greatest expression of love possible is to tell someone news that will save them from eternal damnation. Similarly, if the gospel is true, it impels us to love others and to pay attention to their particular sensitivities—be they cultural, generational or even religious.
By beginning with the right question, other questions about opportunities and cultural obstacles fall neatly into place. We will be aware of these things because we love people, and our love for them will motivate us to act accordingly. What's more, we will be saved from the perils of the donut because the gospel will have been restored to the centre—right where it belongs.