Like many Lutherans today, I was not born Lutheran. I was raised Baptist before finding my way into mainstream American evangelicalism as a young adult.
The weekly liturgy (and it was a liturgy — of sorts) in my evangelical church was predictable and formative. The worship band opened the service with a fist-pumping song meant to teach us that praising God was not simply our Christian duty but also so fun! As the 25-minute set progressed, exuberance became contemplative ecstasy. The final song cued everyone to raise hands, cry and softly emote phrases like “yes, Lord Jesus, I need You” or “Holy Spirit, You are welcome here.”
Then came the sermon, when our stylish and winsome pastor would spend 45 minutes exhorting everyone to take the next step in their faith journey, find the center of God’s will or (occasionally) make Jesus your personal savior and your everything.
The last five minutes of the sermon segued into a time of response backed by soft keyboard and tender acoustic melodies. This signaled that we were all supposed to bow our heads, close our eyes and surrender to the unique purpose and plan that God was laying on our hearts. As we departed, another rah-rah song pumped us up for the coming week of commitment-keeping.
Most of the people around me seemed contentedly into it. Into the music. Into the sermonic life coaching. Into the general vibe of shiny happy Christianity.
But I didn’t feel shiny or happy. I felt tarnished. I felt burdened. I felt the weight of my sins. Confronted by the demands of next-level Christian living and the pressure to discern God’s big audacious purpose for my life, I felt like a fraud.
For many, evangelicalism seemed to have it all. But all I felt was empty.
An Epidemic of Emptiness
There are many evangelicals who feel the same way. Many of them are young. And many of them seem to be showing up with increasing frequency in LCMS congregations. In fact, anecdotal evidence suggests that the more traditional your congregation, the more likely these discontented evangelicals will one day show up in your church’s narthex. I know, because many of them have lately been showing up in my church’s narthex.
Upon greeting them, you may be tempted to apologize that the coffee is not Starbucks caliber, or that the restrooms haven’t been remodeled since the 1950s, or that the fellowship hall looks a little like a swap meet. Don’t. They probably suspected all those things were true before they pulled into the parking lot.
They are showing up at your congregation because they want something more. They want certainty and clarity about what the Scriptures teach. They want a clean conscience that isn’t grounded upon internal feelings or personal obedience. They want rest from the pressure of trying to find God’s big plan and purpose.
So here’s what you do…
➜ DO sit with them through the service and help them navigate the liturgy.
➜ DO get their names and numbers and invite them to coffee.
➜ DO ask them, “What brought you to our congregation?”
➜ DO listen to their stories. And if those stories sound anything like what I’ve described above, then, in a simple way,
➜ DO explain to them that the Lutheran church has it all — all that they are desiring and all that evangelicalism is missing.
Show them that we have a clear confession, the pure Gospel, true assurance and the purpose-given life.
Lutherans Have a Clear Confession
Evangelicalism is full of confusion. Ask regular members (or even pastors) a question about what the Bible means, and they will almost always preface the answer with a qualifier of some sort, such as, “Well, in my opinion …” or “Some Christians believe …,” etc.
I remember a time when my senior pastor began urging folks to seek “a second baptism of the Holy Spirit.” When I asked him privately to show me this teaching in the Scriptures, he began the conversation with “This is how I interpret this particular passage …” and ended it by assuring me that this teaching is not “an essential” and that “we need not divide over it if we see it differently.”
By contrast, if you ask a Lutheran “What does this mean?” you’ll likely receive an answer that’s not only grounded in the Holy Scriptures but also consistent with the faithful confessional witness of generations of Christians.
So, bring a Book of Concord to your coffee meeting. Show your friend the creeds and the Small Catechism. Explain that these documents help us read and understand the Scriptures faithfully, guarding us from the temptation to make up our own private interpretations.
For someone who’s been driving around lost, a GPS is a very welcome gift. That’s what you are offering. You are speaking into their confusion with clarity.
Lutherans Have the Joy of the Gospel
As ironic as it may seem (the word “evangelical” means “good news”), evangelicals are not very Gospel-centered. I know that’s a bold claim, but hear me out.
Many evangelicals reduce the Gospel to the basic information you must believe to get your foot in the door. You must believe you’re a sinner. You must believe Jesus died for your sins. You must sincerely ask Him to be your savior (decision theology).
For evangelicals, receiving the Gospel is like driving off the car lot in a brand-new, fully paid-for vehicle. It’s yours — but so, too, are all the future maintenance costs.
I don’t exaggerate. In the Baptist tradition I grew up in, it was common to read in the bulletin, “Make sure you bring your unsaved friends to our Big Sunday in two weeks! The pastor is going to give a clear and powerful Gospel presentation!” Lutherans rightly expect to hear both Law and Gospel every week. But most evangelicals live with a different paradigm. Once you are “in,” the Gospel is relegated to the rearview mirror. Obedience to the Law is what it costs to stay on track and keep God’s blessings flowing. I remember the relief that washed over me the first time I heard a Lutheran explain that the Gospel is not only for the start of my Christian life but for all of it.
An excellent place to take your new evangelical friend, then, is to Luther’s explanation of the Third Article of the Apostles’ Creed. Lutherans confess that the Holy Spirit calls, gathers and enlightens us by the Gospel and that He keeps us in the church by the same Gospel — daily and richly forgiving our sins. The new car is paid for, but so are all the future maintenance and repairs. None of it is our cost to bear. That’s the pure joy of the Gospel for Christians — and the Lutheran church has it.
Lutherans Have True Assurance
Remember that decision theology I mentioned? Well, that’s probably something your coffee buddy is also troubled by.
Evangelicalism relies heavily on personal sincerity for the assurance of salvation. While most evangelicals will agree that “Jesus paid it all,” they will also say that it’s up to them to receive that gift. The emphasis is not on what Jesus has done to save sinners but on whether sinners are sincere when they accept His salvation.
I cannot overstate what havoc this creates in the evangelical soul.
I have vivid memories of lying awake at night as a teenager pleading with God that, if I wasn’t sincere when I prayed at the age of 4 for Jesus to be my savior, then please save me now! At the evangelical university I attended, students were required to attend a bi-annual “Spiritual Emphasis Week.” This largely consisted of revivalistic speakers telling the student body that they probably weren’t true Christians — Exhibit A: Look at how much you sin! Students were challenged to finally — sincerely — come to Christ. Chances are good that the evangelical sitting across the table from you has heard some version of this in his church.
Lutherans trust that God’s promised forgiveness on account of Christ is actually theirs, not because they believe sincerely enough but because God is faithful to deliver what He promises by His Word and Sacraments.
So, share the peace that comes from knowing for sure that God has forgiven all your sins purely for the sake of Christ. Explain that God wants us to hear His Gospel promises so clearly that He has attached those promises to tangible things like water, bread and wine. One conversation won’t answer all their questions about Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, but you can begin to reorient their thinking away from “Was I sincere when I prayed?” to “Is God sincere when He promises?”
Lutherans Have a Purpose-Given Life
Evangelicals are constantly urged to take their faith to the next level, discover God’s big plan for their lives and change the world. Case in point: My church once bought hundreds of copies of evangelical icon Rick Warren’s mega-bestseller The Purpose-Driven Life (2002) to give to its members.
What I discovered, however, was that the big, awesome, God-sized purpose touted within evangelical circles often involved expensive mission trips, full-time church work or untold numbers of volunteer hours and stewardship dollars. It was rarely presented as teaching your children the faith, loving your wife and working with integrity at your 9-to-5.
This kind of talk produces a class system within Christianity. You have your ordinary Christians. Then you have your small cadre of sold-out, on-fire, purpose-driven Christians. These are the Christians who are not just there to sit and soak but to make a difference.
It blew my mind when I first began to hear Lutherans teach about vocation. Never in my life had someone told me that marriage, parenthood and teaching high school were authentic callings from God through which He provided for my neighbor.
Lutherans taught me that the Christian life is not purpose driven but purpose given — by God, in ordinary vocations (which Luther helpfully catalogs in the Table of Duties). I don’t have to go on an epic quest to discover God’s will. It’s right there in His Word.
It’s very likely that the young evangelical man or woman with the nearly empty coffee cup has never heard that simply being a faithful student, soldier or stay-at-home mom is fully pleasing to God — so tell them.
And don’t forget to invite them back to the church that really does have it all.
This article originally appeared in the October 2026 print edition of The Lutheran Witness.
Cover image: LCMS Communications/Erik M. Lunsford
