Illustration by Peter Horjus

As I opened the envelope that contained my child sponsor payment coupon, an information brochure fell out. I scooped it up, eager to give it to a friend I was discipling. She spends her money on such frivolous things, I thought. She could sponsor a Third World child for five months on what she'll spend today shopping. I started to put the information in my purse but stopped. I'd already given this friend two similar brochures and talked to her several times about the needs of Third World children. Instead of giving her yet another nudge, I needed to consider my motivation by asking myself some questions. Was it right for me to judge her so harshly and ask her to join this cause yet again? Did my insistence demonstrate love or help her see the plight of impoverished children more clearly? Or did it just turn her off?

These are central questions for those of us who want to be change agents for God. When we're passionate about evangelism, missions, or politics, it's easy to get on a soapbox. Our burning hearts turn us into crusaders with swords drawn to penetrate the numbness and self-deception we think we see in others. Yet sometimes we do more harm than good by coming on too strong. Haranguing and badgering others does not reflect the love, mercy, and truth of Christ. Jesus lived these virtues seamlessly, and we are called to imitate His lifestyle.

It is possible to be passionate about godly purposes without being obnoxious. Some excellent examples come to us in the Old Testament prophets, who also faced the difficult task of getting across important but unpopular messages.

A Balanced Message

The prophets' lives offer a model for people who are burdened with a cause. First, they offered clear thinking, using metaphors and stories, instead of slinging mud. For example, instead of simply accusing David of adultery and murder, Nathan used a compelling story about a man and his ewe to help David see his sin (2 Sam. 12:1–4). We can imitate Nathan by telling stories, offering simple statistics, or comparing someone's situation with something familiar.

The prophets also offered hope. After Samuel told the Israelites to rid themselves of foreign gods, he urged them to commit themselves to the Lord (1 Sam. 7:3). In conversations in which our heart's cry emerges, not only must we explain what is wrong, but we also need to address how God might wish to make it right. A passionate prolifer, then, works not only to end abortion but also to help people without physical, financial, or emotional resources to care for a baby.

Heart Exam

The prophets also teach us to examine our own hearts before attempting to persuade others. Just as Isaiah saw himself before the Lord with unclean lips (Is. 6:1–7), we need to examine our motives. When we speak up for Christ, we must speak truthfully yet mercifully. I have struggled with this in my fervor for the cause of racial reconciliation. When people have made generalizations about Asians, Latinos, or African-Americans, I've sometimes responded by rejecting them personally. Eventually I was able to see my blunder—I was like the parent who screams at a child, "Don't scream!" As I began asking God for compassion for people who made unthinking remarks, I began to show more gentleness and respect in these conversations.

Here are two important questions to ask ourselves as we examine our hearts.

Illustration by Peter Horjus

Is my spirit humble or demanding? A demanding spirit violates others' spiritual boundaries. If I have a humble spirit, I can ask challenging questions and then back off. I will respect people's relationships with God and not presume that I know what God is calling each person to do. Humility reminds me that I am not supernaturally empowered to know what's right for people. When I act as if I am God's representative in their lives, assuming, for example, that God wants them to join me every Thursday evening for a certain service project, it is a symptom of a self-righteous heart.

The key to having a humble spirit is respect. Instead of telling people what to do, I can urge them to seek God's will. I can trust God to speak to people. Respect means not giving advice, but asking questions such as, "What breaks your heart that breaks the heart of God?" It means listening to their answer and respecting their enthusiasm as I want them to respect mine.

What is behind my passion for the changes I want others to make: God's agenda or my own? If I'm pushing my agenda, I'll insist you support my cause, give money to my project, agree with my point of view on this legislation. When we're too focused on our personal crusades, we don't trust God to change people on His timetable. We want Him to change people now!

If I've surrendered myself to God's agenda, I don't have to "help" God by manipulating others into joining my cause. Instead, I can simply describe what God has called me to do. God may convict someone to get involved. Or He may not. Perhaps the best thing I can do is pray that God would clearly reveal His will to others. My prayers may be more effective than my attempts at eloquent persuasion.

Respect and Love

An examined heart leads to gentle, respectful behavior as we communicate our causes. We can demonstrate respect for others in the following ways.

Don't use guilt to promote activities. Recruiting workers and making service opportunities known are crucial. But sometimes promotion becomes demeaning and motivates through guilt. Too often, we're confronted by emotional appeals laced with accusation, such as, "Everyone should sign up," or, "If you don't help, the program will die."

Contrast this with how Mordecai—passionate to save the Jews in Persia—refrained from using guilt to persuade his cousin and adopted daughter to save the Jews. Instead, he said, "For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?" (Est. 4:14). Mordecai respected God's power to deliver His people without Queen Esther's help. Even his challenge was not a demand but a question, "Who knows  . . . ?"

Major on the majors. By letting go of our agenda, we avoid getting worked up over exact wording or whether our preferred methods are used. My friend Linda, a homeschooling parent, told me about how she'd heard a speaker say the most important thing in choosing between homeschooling, a Christian school, or public school was carefully considering the needs of your child. Said Linda, "Publicly I agreed with her, but I secretly thought, If she had homeschooled, she'd know it's the best way! Now I see how arrogant I was. She was right—the major issue is meeting the needs of your child."

Illustrate your cause with stories of your own failures. Humility requires that we share our journey of growth, not that we tell people what they ought to do as if we've never struggled. When talking about world missions, I often tell about an afternoon in which I realized that the color of my vertical blinds didn't match my sofa. Then my mail came, and I read a pamphlet about an organization that rescues kidnapped children in India who have been sold to be tied to the bellies of camels to make the camels run faster in races. The children rarely survive. Suddenly, the blinds were not a big deal. Telling this story helps people identify with my struggle to stay focused on God's worldwide activity. It motivates them more effectively than preaching about how people should care more about missions.

Pray about your cause as much as you work in it. Nehemiah, who left a successful political career to help the Jews rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, excelled not only as a doer but also as a pray-er. Throughout his adventure in motivational speaking, construction management, and political maneuvering, he addressed God constantly (Neh. 2:4; 4:4–5, 9; 5:19; 6:9, 14). Prayer keeps us tied to the heart of God.

If you do good works, you will battle self-righteousness. You may be tempted to think, Why isn't everyone working as hard as I am? This can only be conquered by clinging to the heart of God. When we picture ourselves kneeling before Christ in the throne room, as Isaiah did (Is. 6:1), we see the absurdity of patting ourselves on the back. Our lips are unclean, but we feast our eyes on the King, the Lord Almighty, instead of our paltry efforts (v. 5).

As people devoted to prayer, we ask for God's guidance when we get into situations in which we wonder if we should speak up. We pause to let Him engineer the conversation. Later, when we regret having omitted pointed tidbits, we understand that God may have intervened to keep us quiet so He could speak.

Speaking up for the purposes that God lays on our heart becomes exciting once we apply these principles. It's not a matter of being bold enough or smart enough or being in the right place at the right time. God directs the events of life, and we get to tag along behind and see what God is going to do next.

Jan Johnson is a writer and retreat speaker. She is the author of Living a Purpose-Full Life (Waterbrook) and Enjoying the Presence of God (NavPress). Jan volunteers at Samaritan Center, a drop-in program for the homeless, and teaches in her church's adult education program.

With All Due Respect

1. Have you ever been offended by a not-so-gentle crusader? If so, describe the circumstances.

2. What about the way that person interacted with you turned you off?

3. Describe a cause about which you are passionate.

4. Jan Johnson offers several traits of a gentle crusader:

Put a check next to the area in which you are strongest. Circle the trait in which you would most like to grow.