Reaching the Secular Mind
Unpacking three critical shifts necessary to impact the non-religious West
Photo credit: me
(An eight-minute read.)
This past week, I was invited by administrators of my denomination in Canada to present on “reaching the secular mind.” It was a gathering of Seventh-day Adventist leaders from across Canada for their annual meetings—when they conduct business and discuss their vision for ministry in the country.
The topic is relevant, of course, because of how secular Canada has become—where a mere 11% of the population attends religious services each week.
They invited me specifically because, even though America is vastly more “churched” than Canada (which wasn’t true sixty years ago, though many probably don’t realize it), I live and minister in a state, Maine, that is very similar to Canada in its religiosity (and weekly religious attendance), and because I have a huge burden to—and a modest track record of—connecting with and reaching people with such a mindset.
So I thought I’d just share via this medium some of the “big ideas” I shared with them, mostly because I’m not sure I’ve ever explicitly tackled the question from this angle—about “how to reach the secular mind.”
What I shared was three shifts that I think the church needs to recognize and embrace if we’re going to impact our communities and move the needle when it comes to people’s openness to Jesus in general and our denominational understanding of him in particular.
Though a heads up: everyone wants a plug-and-play method they can start implementing in their context that will lead to quick “success.” But these three shifts have to do with mindset rather than method.
That’s perhaps the first unofficial shift in mindset we need: it’s not about method but about context. There’s no singular “secular mindset” that a single method will appeal to and work for. Every person, place, and group of people is different.
So one method that might work in your neighborhood in New York City may not work for a neighborhood in Toronto (and I literally do mean neighborhood—as that’s the type of micro-contextualization we need to think about). One approach that might work for your neighbor Jeff may not work for your other neighbor George.
There’s no “one-size-fits-all.”
So that’s sort of the first thing we need to recognize.
Which then leads to the three shifts I spoke about:
1. From attractional to missional. I had a “lightbulb” moment a few years ago when I saw a graphic similar to the one below.
Most churches are “attractional.” They try to put on programs and then attract people to those programs. It’s a “come-to-us” mentality. And we often spend tons of money, and frequently spend a lot of time arguing about, how to put on the programs.
But then very few people actually show up to the program—and probably never will.
Realistically, most people in secular contexts never plan to ever show up to a religious program. It’s just not on their radar.
And yet we keep trying to figure out how to put on better programs to try to get them to come.
Instead, I believe Scripture invites us to be missional—to go out into the world and to live out the gospel in everyday life. We’re called to embody God’s love in whatever context we’re already in—in our neighborhoods, at our workplaces, in our schools.
Our mindset should thus be “go” rather than “come.”
We may never get a ton of people showing up to our church buildings but we can bring “church” to them wherever they are.
As someone has said, “We aren’t called to fill the pews with members. We are called to fill the world with disciples.”
Which leads to the second shift:
2. From programs to people. Jeff Vanderstelt put it this way: “Jesus didn’t live, serve, suffer, and die so we could just attend a Christian event.” But so much of Christianity is program-centric, thinking that “church” consists of attending one program after another. And we often organize church around this program mentality.
But instead of trying to figure out how to put on better programs, we should focus on developing better people who then go out and share life with other people.
It is, indeed, all about “sharing life” with others.
As I often say: when I meet someone, I’m not trying to figure out how to invite them “to church” or to invite them into a “Bible study.” I’m trying to figure out how I can invite them deeper into my life.
One of my favorite passages in Scripture touches on this idea (which I’m sure I’ve written about before). It’s the opening lines of John’s epistle:
That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, concerning the Word of life—the life was manifested, and we have seen, and bear witness, and declare to you that eternal life which was with the Father and was manifested to us— that which we have seen and heard we declare to you, that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ. (1 John 1:1-3)
Notice what John says the purpose of proclaiming the gospel was: “that you also may have fellowship with us.” It was an invitation into life, into community, into fellowship. It was not simply an invitation to a program or event (nor was the end goal to simply get people to accept ideas or embrace doctrines, as important as those are).
I’ve heard someone else put it this way: people aren’t looking for a church, they’re looking for a family.
Of course, I think it’s a false dichotomy but I get the idea: people aren’t looking for church-as-a-weekly-program but church-as-an-all-of-life-family.
Simply put, secular people may never be willing to show up to sit in a pew for an hour, but most would love to sit at your dining room table all evening (by the way: this latter approach was how Jesus conducted the vast majority of his ministry).
3. From dogmatism to humility. If I could be accused of sounding like a broken record of late, it would probably be along this theme. Both because of my missional experience as well as my PhD research, I’ve come to realize that many secular people are highly suspicious of Christians who are dogmatic and overly-certain.
And yet much of Christianity takes this posture. Though no one would ever admit to it, as the late Tim Keller often said: a lot of evangelism implicitly reflects an attitude which says, “I’m right, you’re wrong, and I would love to tell you about it.”
This is because so much of Christian evangelism in North America was developed during the height of Enlightenment thinking, when the all-consuming goal was to figure out “objective truth” and then convince and argue people into that objective truth.
One of the biggest forms of entertainment during that time, after all, was the public debate—which, at times, would stretch out over days and even weeks (I just finished studying a debate between Restorationist Alexander Campbell and Presbyterian Nathan Rice, which was on the nature of baptism and the importance of creeds, and they had a couple thousand people in attendance and it lasted sixteen days).
But times have changed. Mostly because religious people were so convinced they were right and everyone else was wrong, and mostly because these same people then ostracized and excluded and persecuted and alienated those who disagreed with them, secular people are suspicious of people who betray an air of certainty and dogmatism.
So we must be humble.
This doesn’t mean we can’t have convictions. It just means we should hold our convictions in non-judgmental ways and be willing to admit we don’t have it all figured out and be willing to learn from others as well.
So that’s what I shared—while also illustrating everything I shared with lots of stories.
And you know what?
It seemed to really, really resonate with everyone—mostly because they recognize the problem (how could any thinking person not recognize the problem when there’s such precipitous religious decline in the West?), and partly, I suspect, because they too want something different.
Indeed, on Friday, I spoke for two-and-a-half straight hours about the topic, and they just all sat spell-bound—even declining my invitation for a break halfway through because they were so fascinated by the ideas.
But I worry that most Christians don’t recognize the degree to which we need tectonic paradigm-change when it comes to our approach to church and, really, our approach to religious life. It’s not simply about “tweaking” a few things or trying to do the old things harder or more frequently.
We’re in the midst of (or perhaps, in some contexts, on the other side of) a major religious shift in the West. But I fear most of us religious people aren’t aware of the extent of the problem much less able to comprehend the degree to which we need to reimagine the way we exist and live as religious people.
Indeed, most of us are simply re-arranging the deckchairs on the Titanic.
I don’t have all the answers, it should be noted—nor perhaps any of the answers (nor do I claim that all of what I’ve outlined above is original to me).
But these are just a few things I’ve come to sense along the way. And if you want to hear more, of course, you can find it in my latest book (which is now finally available as a paperback on Amazon) or via my podcast.
Shawn is a pastor in Maine, whose life, ministry, and writing focus on incarnational expressions of faith. The author of four books and a columnist for Adventist Review, he is also a DPhil (PhD) candidate at the University of Oxford, focusing on nineteenth-century American Christianity. You can follow him on Instagram, and listen to his podcast Mission Lab.
I suspect the "attractional" model which the church tends to work under also leads to the attitude among Christians that "people aren't interested in the truth" because they don't attend the program. It seems the church has fallen victim to the false idea that "if we build it (the program) they will come". I remember hearing a sermon some years in relation to us being the "salt of the earth". The preacher stated that when salt is concentrated in one place (maybe an allusion to the attractional model) then it ultimately leads to death (eg, the dead sea), but when salt is spread around it has a healing and preserving effect (maybe an allusion to the missional model).
Ostracised, excluded, persecuted, and alienated sounds a lot like the modern “cancel culture.”