Behold the atheist.
With his godless and lascivious ways, the atheist begins each day reading Friedrich Nietzsche and Karl Marx before setting out in search of respectable members of the community to corrupt.
Once located, the unsuspecting victim is subjected to dangerous ideas, uncomfortable questions, and YouTube videos by Christopher Hitchens.
Should the attack prove successful, the victim may soon be found drinking artisanal coffees with a paper straw, listening to unrespectable podcasts, attending protests and demonstrations, and using phrases like “climate crisis” at otherwise pleasant dinner parties.
For decades, Christians have searched for effective methods of converting these elusive creatures.
I have discovered the answer.
Stop trying.
At least, stop trying in the way many people imagine.
One unexpected gift of the past few months has been watching this ministry grow far beyond anything I anticipated. Millions of people now encounter our content across social media. Thousands subscribe to this newsletter. Every day I read comments from Christians, former Christians, agnostics, atheists, and people from entirely different faith traditions.
One comment appears so often that I’ve lost count.
“I’m an atheist, but I watch every one of your videos.”
Or some version of:
“I don’t believe what you believe, but I wish more Christians sounded like this. I’m with you.”
I’m not trying to humble brag here, but those comments have taught me something.
Despite what some may believe to this day, the old caricatures are wrong.
Atheists are not immoral vultures circling civilization waiting for opportunities to corrupt decent churchgoers.
Most are simply unconvinced by our preaching and example.
Many are thoughtful. Many are compassionate. Many care deeply about truth, justice, family, community, and human dignity. Many are trying, in their own way, to live ethical and meaningful lives.
What they are unconvinced by is fear.
They are unconvinced by threats.
They are unconvinced by outrage masquerading as righteousness.
They are unconvinced by Christians who speak endlessly about love while displaying very little of it.
They are unconvinced by performative piety.
And honestly, I understand that.
I have met Christians who could quote Scripture chapter and verse better than I ever could while treating their neighbors with utter contempt.
I have seen believers spend more energy defending political tribes than feeding the hungry.
I have watched people proclaim the Prince of Peace while appearing perpetually angry.
People notice these things.
They always have.
One of the great mistakes modern Christianity sometimes makes is assuming people reject faith because they have not heard the arguments.
Most people have heard the arguments.
Many have heard them repeatedly.
What they have not always seen is faith embodied.
They have not always seen Christians who possess genuine joy.
They have not always seen people whose lives have been transformed by grace into something recognizable and attractive.
They have not always seen the fruits of the Spirit.
The Apostle Paul describes those fruits as “love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22-23 NIV).
If you’re anything like me, seeing that list written out is jarring in light of modern Christianity.
Notice what is missing from the list.
Outrage.
Contempt.
Tribalism.
Cruelty.
Constant grievance.
Owning the Libs.
Humiliating people who disagree with you.
Consuming every waking hour searching for new reasons to be angry.
Paul doesn’t describe a life transformed by Christ as louder, harsher, or more combative.
He describes a person becoming more loving, more joyful, more peaceful, more patient, more kind.
Which raises an uncomfortable question.
If someone encountered our faith only through the behavior modeled on cable news, would they recognize the fruits Paul described?
Jesus never instructed His followers to become experts at winning arguments online.
He told them they were the salt of the earth.
The light of the world.
He spoke of living water.
These are images of attraction, nourishment, and transformation.
When Jesus entered a town, people came to Him.
Not because He had mastered a marketing strategy.
People came because they encountered something they desperately needed.
The sick came because He healed.
The hungry came because He fed them.
The lonely came because He welcomed them.
The broken came because they found mercy.
The crowds gathered because Christ was attractive.
Not superficially attractive.
Not culturally fashionable.
Attractive in the deepest sense of the word.
He embodied the life every human being is searching for, whether they know it or not.
Many people of Jesus’ day wanted a Messiah who would destroy their enemies.
Jesus never gave them the satisfaction.
Instead, He gave them what they actually needed.
When people wanted vengeance, He spoke of forgiveness.
When people wanted power, He spoke of service.
When people wanted victory, He spoke of love.
Two thousand years later, we still worship Him.
Not because He crushed His enemies.
Because He showed us a better way.
That makes all the difference.
I think many Christians have spent so much time trying to make Christianity attractive that we’ve overlooked a simpler task.
Live it.
Actually live it.
Love your family.
Serve your community.
Forgive people.
Feed someone who is hungry.
Visit someone who is lonely.
Treat strangers with dignity.
Refuse to participate in the daily outrage machine.
Practice gratitude in a culture of complaint.
Practice mercy in a culture of humiliation.
Practice courage in a culture of fear.
People notice.
I know they do because I’ve watched it happen.
The growth of this ministry has not come from yelling louder than everyone else.
It has not come from demonizing people who disagree.
It has not come from treating every conversation like a battlefield.
It has come from a sincere effort, however imperfect, to embody the teachings of Christ.
Please don’t misunderstand me.
I fail at this all the time.
I get frustrated.
I get impatient.
I have bad days.
There are moments when outrage feels easier than discipleship.
But people are remarkably generous when they see sincerity.
Even when we stumble.
Even when we fail.
Even when we’re still learning.
They can tell the difference between someone trying to live the Gospel and someone using the Gospel as a weapon.
These are difficult times.
We live in an age fueled by outrage. Entire industries profit from keeping us angry, frightened, suspicious, and exhausted. Political leaders, media figures, influencers, and algorithms all compete for our attention by feeding our worst impulses.
Many people feel spiritually homeless.
Many are hungry for meaning.
Many are tired.
Some Christians look at this moment and see a reason for despair.
I see something else.
I see harvest season.
When the world is anxious, peace stands out.
When the world is cruel, kindness stands out.
When the world is consumed by outrage, joy stands out.
When people are exhausted by endless tribal warfare, a person who genuinely loves their neighbor becomes impossible to ignore.
This is not the season to become more combative.
This is the season to become more Christlike.
And that may be the closest thing I have to a concise guide for converting atheists.
Stop trying to convert atheists.
Start becoming the sort of person whose life makes people curious about Christ.
The rest tends to take care of itself.
Practices for the Week
-
Spend one day without engaging in online outrage, even when you are tempted.
-
Read Matthew 25:31-46 slowly and ask yourself where Christ might be appearing in your ordinary daily encounters.
-
Perform one act of kindness for someone who can offer you nothing in return.
-
Before posting or commenting online, ask yourself: “Does this reflect the fruits of the Spirit?”
-
End each day by naming three moments of grace you experienced, however small.
Join the Conversation
Have you ever met someone whose life made you curious about faith?
Or perhaps someone whose behavior made faith seem less believable?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
If this reflection encouraged you, consider sharing it with someone who may be tired of the noise and looking for a different way forward.
Prayer
Lord Jesus,
In a world that often rewards outrage, teach us the way of love.
When we are tempted to win arguments, remind us to love people.
When we are tempted to speak with contempt, remind us of the mercy You have shown us.
Give us hearts that are patient, generous, and courageous.
Help us become people whose lives reflect Your presence, not merely our opinions.
Teach us to see our neighbors as You see them.
Protect us from the arrogance that assumes we have all the answers and from the fear that causes us to close our hearts to others.
Where we have contributed to division, grant us repentance.
Where we have grown cynical, restore hope.
Where we have become weary, renew our strength.
May living water flow through our lives in ways that nourish those around us.
May our words and actions point beyond ourselves and toward You.
And when others encounter us, may they catch even the smallest glimpse of Your compassion, Your wisdom, Your mercy, and Your peace.
We ask this in Your holy name.
Amen.
A strange thing has happened over the past few months.
As this ministry has grown, I’ve heard from Christians, former Christians, atheists, agnostics, and people from entirely different faith traditions.
The comments are remarkably consistent.
People are tired.
Tired of outrage.
Tired of being manipulated.
Tired of every conversation becoming a battle.
Tired of Christianity being presented as something angry, fearful, and perpetually offended.
What many people seem to be looking for is something much simpler.
A place to think.
A place to pray.
A place to wrestle honestly with faith, doubt, Scripture, science, psychology, and modern life without being shouted at.
That’s what we’re trying to build here.
No ads.
No outrage farming.
No treating readers like products.
Just thoughtful readers helping sustain a ministry and community they find meaningful.
Maybe a little satire now and then.
If Message From the Margins has helped you breathe a little easier, think a little more clearly, or remember why Christ remains worth following, I hope you’ll consider becoming a paid subscriber.
Not because everything meaningful should be behind a paywall.
Quite the opposite.
Most of this work remains free because I believe it should.
Paid subscribers simply help keep the doors open for everyone.
And for that, I am deeply grateful.