Friday, June 13, 2025

Too Hot to Handle: A Dinner with Zacchaeus

In which our regular writers toss around subjects a little more volatile than usual.

Last week in this space we were discussing a recent report sponsored by Wycliffe College’s Institute of Evangelism entitled Finding Faith in Canada Today, which surveyed Canadian Christians to find out how they got saved. One of the more significant takeaways from the report was the conclusion that, statistically speaking, the vast majority of new converts do not come to the Lord at evangelical rallies, traditional outreach programs, through websites or online church. A full 40% of new believers came to Christ because of the testimony of Christian friends, far more than any other reason given for converting. The report concluded that friendship is the single most effective environment for evangelism.

Tom: How about that? So tell me, IC, why don’t Christians make more unbelieving friends?

Some Reasons

Immanuel Can: Well, let’s list some reasons.

One is unfamiliarity: we’ve become used to making friends primarily from among Christians, and a cultural shift is required in order for us to get any good at making non-Christian friends. We understand the culture of Christianity, but feel more alien and move less fluidly in secular culture. We feel the discomfort of adjustment to new social relations, and pull away from the opportunity out of anxiety about messing it up.

There’s something to that. If you make friends with unbelievers, they will offer you a drink. They might swear a time or two.

Tom: Some of mine used to turn the air blue, and still will when things go badly for them or they are very intense about a subject. With time, they recognized I don’t speak that way, and dialed it back out of courtesy. I never critique a foul mouth, though I will comment on the misuse of the name of Jesus just to ask that for my sake they don’t. Usually they are quite receptive to that sort of approach.

IC: They’ll perhaps tell you an off-color story or an inappropriate joke, and anticipate you laughing at it. These are screwballs we need to learn how to swing on, to borrow a baseball metaphor.

Tom: They’ll definitely do that at first. It may even be deliberate, testing you out to see if you’re one of those uptight stuffed shirts many people use as an excuse not to associate with Christians. I have found that with time my unbelieving friends come to recognize that those jokes and stories aren’t getting any traction with me, and they’ll save them for a more receptive audience.

Giving Thanks with Unsaved Neighbors

The same holds true with giving thanks when you eat together. I don’t have a lot of people over for meals, but my brother and his wife are incredibly hospitable. His unsaved friends now expect to close their eyes and hold hands around the table before eating. He never has to bring the subject up at all. Of course, dinner is always worth it.

IC: I’ve got a neighbor who not only bows his head at my table, but who asks me to pray for the meal at his, and another who asks me to do it, though he’s a Hindu. I keep it short and respectful, yet I never pass up the opportunity to pray to the right God, and to name his Son as the one responsible for the blessing. It started because when I invited them over, I prayed before we started, without asking or apologizing for it at all.

But let’s go back and work through this a little slower, if we could; because I think people really worry about how to handle this sort of thing, and justifiably so.

Just One Beer and an Off-Color Racist Joke

Let’s say you’re helping your neighbor with his fence on a hot day — that sort of thing is a guaranteed win for your credibility with him, by the way — and your neighbor says, “I’m going to get a beer; you want one?” Or he pauses, leans on his shovel, and says, “Have you heard the joke about the Jew and the hooker?” How do you handle that with respect to your testimony?

Tom: Differently, I think. With the one beer, I’d simply say, “Sure, thanks.” He’s not asking me to get drunk with him or do anything inappropriate for a Christian. Nobody can get hammered on a single ale, though I’d be careful of a stout with no food in my stomach. The best thing you can do, if you can manage it, when people are being generous is to be grateful and take them up on it. I might not like his choice of beer at all — many of the mainstream commercial beers are dreadful, and that’s probably what he’s offering — but I can choke it down with a smile to be polite, just like I’d eat his wife’s food at her table even if it wasn’t to my taste. I’d also be ready to explain why I’d have one with him but not five, but that’s not the sort of issue that generally comes up when you’re working on a fence in the heat.

Now, not everyone drinks, and if you’ve never tried alcohol before, I do not recommend having your first with your neighbor for the sake of politeness. You may be biting off more than you can chew. Just be yourself. If you normally have a drink, fine. If you don’t, then don’t. In that case, it’s best to be honest and unpretentious in declining. “I’m more of a soft drink guy, but thank you for the offer”, or maybe (if it’s true), “Actually, I’ve had to give that up. I had a problem with it. But thanks anyway.” There may be an opportunity there to witness to how the Lord helped you with your lack of self-control, should that be the case. But I would definitely not get preachy about it, and I certainly would not assume that because I was once a problem drinker, it means everybody who likes the occasional beer is a dribbling lush in need of a trip to rehab. I know many moderate unsaved drinkers. But whether you accept the offer or politely decline, he’ll remember you favorably for your help with the fence. That’s the big win.

The Strip Club Invitation

The beer is easy, I think. The Jew and the hooker is harder. Along that line, I had to turn down a strip club invitation when I started in financial printing. “Everybody” was going. I just said, “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t go to those sorts of clubs these days.” Maybe that sounded a little prissy, but I didn’t have a lot of time to get creative with my response, and it gave him the opportunity to ask, “Why not?” if he cared about my answer. He didn’t, and he didn’t ask again, but we got along fine on the job.

IC: Yes, that second one is admittedly harder. My suggestion would be don’t laugh. But a downward look, a slight pause before replying, and a polite “No, but let’s not” will get across the point sufficiently for most people to understand that’s not your kind of humor. But follow it up with an affirming gesture of some kind, so the understanding becomes, “I’m not interested in that joke, but I’m very positive about you.” So, for example, you could pat him on the back, or smile and express satisfaction with the work you’re doing together, or even just say, “It’s a great day to be working, and I’m glad to be here.” People do get it when you are consistent with not participating in certain ways, and if you seem unoffended, they also quickly adjust and respect your boundaries. But set them early.

Tom: I can’t leave that one alone, because it’s huge: “Set the boundaries early.” My father used to say, “Run your flag up the mast.” I have found the moment you mention you’re a Christian early in the relationship, a whole lot of these problems go away, or at least the issues become much clearer. People will watch their language around you, or else they will be deliberately foul-mouthed to test how you’ll react. But either way, you’ll have a very good idea where they are coming from.

IC: Just so. But having a stock of positive comebacks and demure deflections of an unwanted course of conversation will help a lot with avoiding offence as well. At the same time, there’s a wisdom the Lord has to give you in the moment, sometimes; and you can’t always be prepared. That’s okay. That’s the life of faith.

Risk and Reward

What if people say, “It all seems a bit risky to me; I’d rather not get involved in that sort of risk.” What would you say to them, Tom?

Tom: I don’t think we have any other option, do we? Look at the Lord’s personal pattern with the unsaved. “Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?” protested the Pharisees. His reply: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.” You go where the perceived need is, because that’s where you’ll get results.

Zacchaeus was one such. Caught watching the Lord from afar in a tree, the Lord invited himself to dinner at a tax collector’s house. The man promptly and joyously repented and began to repay his debts. I would say that’s a successful afternoon of gospel preaching right there!

But Jesus also ate with those with whom he deeply disagreed, and later called hypocrites and “a brood of vipers”. A Pharisee named Simon asked him to dinner and he went. He didn’t say no, even though he would shortly pronounce seven woes on the man’s entire profession. We don’t know if Simon repented, but what he can’t ever say is that nobody gave him a chance. The Lord showed him the same grace he showed Zacchaeus, calling him out at his point of need. Should we not be doing the same?

Furthermore, there’s something about eating and drinking in someone’s home — yours or theirs — that makes free, natural conversation possible in a way you can’t find it anywhere else.

IC: Okay. Once we’re eating and drinking in somebody’s home, we’re fairly far along.

Making Non-Christian Friends

But let’s now get practical: if I don’t have any non-Christian friends right now, how do I start getting some? Got some strategies?

Tom: It’s admittedly harder to make friends in later life than when we are school-aged, but adults also have advantages in making friends that kids don’t. We have homes too, and we can kick-start the process of building friendships by extending the first invitation to dinner. Once you strike up a conversation with someone, getting to the “We should have you over to dinner” stage is not hard. But that means we have to be out there in the world interacting with people in order to have those initial conversations. We can’t be hiding behind our church doors and restricting our significance acquaintances to fellow believers.

IC: Alright. Let me add a suggestion. Everybody’s got co-workers. Everybody’s got neighbors. All you have to do is be willing to make a problem they’re having into your problem. I suggested one earlier: is he fixing a fence, or shingling a roof? Come over and help him fix it, without being asked. As I said in this post on “snowblower evangelism” quite a long time ago: make his snowed-in driveway your problem, and you’re off to the races. A key moment for my immigrant neighbor was when his basement flooded, and he didn’t know what to do. Another had lawn-care issues, and I loaned him tools and gave him advice. When a new family moved into the neighborhood, I went over to them and showed them which houses were safe if the family was ever in need of help. Another friend, I met in a specialty store, only to find he lives about eight doors from me. For another, my wife found out he was going for surgery, so she led us into helping them with transportation, childcare, and comfort when things went badly at first. Another friend, I met at work. Now, my wife is thinking of throwing a block party at our house, so neighbors can meet and greet ...

There are lots of places to pick up unbelievers as friends: but you’ll not see those opportunities if you don’t have your eyes open to them. So it means you have to change your orientation to the unsaved world, and cross that invisible line between you. They won’t come to you, so you need to go to them.

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