If you've ever been a missionary of any sort, you've experienced it: the dreaded Bible Bash. You go up to a door, hoping to share something that you genuinely feel to be important, and behind said door is an antagonistic attitude, grudging greeting, and criticizing comments. As a Missionary for the Mormon Church, I experienced it almost daily. I heard everything from "you're the spawn of Satan himself" to "we believe in the right Jesus here," which was typically followed by a closing door. But every once in a while a deliberate personal insult was not enough. No, occasionally they would begin to "Bible Bash," a situation in which two parties attempt to prove the rightness of their position or belief through argument, slander, mudslinging, and occasionally yelling and screaming. The result of such an encounter is typically anger accompanied by a skewed and incorrect view of the other party and their stance. Sadly, this situation is not limited to the world of missionaries and door knocking. I experience it in my own job as a HVAC marketer in Costco with those who feel that it is their duty to prove that I am selling a horrible product and that no one will be satisfied. You may experience it when expressing an opinion about a restaurant or a movie, or in any situation in which two opinions are involved. There is no end to the types of circumstances that may surround such an experience. I have three personal examples of how I have come to handle these experiences, and how I came to find the "right" way to bible bash.
In my opinion there are two major fallacies in life, and if there is to be an argument or "bashing", these are always in play: the ideas that I'm right and you're wrong. When these ideas govern the conversation, there can be no winning. And here comes example number one. I was serving as a missionary in Brazil in the city of Sao Paulo when this first one occurred. My companion and I were walking to an appointment that was a considerable distance away. We were walking quickly so we could get there on time, when a man approached and stopped us. He had a small bible in one hand, and a smirk on his face. We said hello and introduced ourselves as Elders. He said he knew and that he had something to teach us: that we are not children of God. In this area we had very different beliefs. We, as Latter Day Saints, firmly believe and teach that God is our Heavenly Father and that we are His children. And so we expressed this to him, to which he responded with an argument. We responded in turn with an argument. That was our first mistake, and our greatest. Ten minutes later we left, fuming, that we had not been able to convince him that we were right and he was wrong. We even accepted his invitation to return to his home in an hour to keep talking. We did, with the same result. Our attitude was that we were right. We knew we were. We felt it. We had received a confirmation from the Holy Ghost that we were sons of God, and no one could convince us otherwise. So why couldn't we convince him? Why couldn't we make him feel and know what we felt and knew?
My next example is more recent. Not two months ago three non-denominational christian missionaries came to my door. I invited them in, sat them on the couch, offered them water, and asked them what they had to teach me. They proceeded with their thoughts and insights, and we had a great conversation. We both learned, and we were both uplifted. Then came this question: "Does it bother you that Joseph Smith inserted himself into the Bible to lead people to believe that he was a prophet?" I asked for clarification, which they gave me, and I carefully chose my words as I expressed to them that I don't believe that, but that I do in fact believe him to be a prophet of God. We talked a little more about it before I expressed to them that I had to go to work (which I did). They left with a prayer, and I went to work reflecting on it.
My last example comes from the portion of my missionary service completed in the south of the United States. While I was in Mobile, Alabama, we began teaching a woman who struggled with the concept that God even existed. She had once been an active member of our church, but had left many years previous as a result of an ugly divorce and bitter feelings. After several doorstep encounters we were finally able to set an appointment to come and sit with her in her home. We brought with us a member of the ward, Brother Lunceford. As we proceeded with the lesson we had prepared, we focused on helping her to recognize the spirit. We asked her about experiences in her life that typically bring strong feelings; the birth of her only son, her first time entering the temple, the death of one of her parents, and so on. As we talked, we could feel the calm and peaceful feeling that comes when you talk about truth. Brother Lunceford asked her about the divorce, and her feelings since then, and compared them to his own experiences with his parents' divorce. By the end of the lesson, we had all shed a tear or two, and she had admitted that she felt something that couldn't be explained: the Spirit.
In these three cases, there were two differing opinions, and three completely different outcomes. Why? It comes back to those two fallacies that I mentioned. In Brazil, we both had those ideas. We both were utterly convinced that we were right and the other was wrong, and how we went about trying to prove it was destructive, immature, and prideful: forcing our opinions on the other, constantly trying to counter everything they said, and never backing down. When screaming or yelling is involved, on either side, there is something seriously wrong. In all my studies of the scriptures I have never come upon a case where Jesus Christ screamed or yelled at someone, telling them that they were wrong or that he was right. That kind of behavior will destroy relationships, drive away the spirit, and burn bridges. Pride, anger, and the idea that you're right and the other is wrong are the driving forces behind any interaction that entails yelling, screaming, arguing, or "bashing." Avoid it.
In my more recent example, a similar mistake was made. When they presented the question, no matter how good their intentions may have been, all I heard was "Does it bother you that what you believe is wrong?" How would you respond to that question? I hope that by calmly stating that I think there was a misunderstanding, and then clarifying what I truly believed was something different, that we were both able to part feeling good. But what if I hadn't done that? I could have easily taken offense to that, and proceed to point out what was "wrong" about what they believed. And so enters the "I'm right, you're wrong" attitude of which I spoke, and the story ends the same as it did in Brazil. There is a delicate balance that must be discovered and kept. And so we come to my third and final example.
I would turn you first to a story in the New Testament. In Luke 24 we read about two of Christ's disciples who were walking on the road to Emmaus shortly after His death. They had heard the news of the empty tomb, and were talking about this as they walked. A man joins them in their walk and asks what they were conversing about. They tell him about Christ, His ministry, His death, and the recent disappearance of His body. He responds with this:
"Then he said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken: Ought not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory?"
He presented another side to what they were talking about. He didn't scream, he didn't yell, he wasn't forceful. He taught. If we continue reading, we find out that they came to their destination, but the man was going to continue. They asked him to "Abide with [them]: for it [was] toward evening." He obliged, and went in with them. He blessed and broke bread with them. At that point, when he had shown love, compassion, and a desire to help them understand the truth, their eyes were opened and recognized this stranger for who he truly was: the resurrected Christ.
In my last experience, we entered the home of this dear woman hoping to help her. Yes, we believed that we were right, but we didn't think she was wrong. Just because our views were different doesn't mean she was wrong. The same goes for the other two encounters I had. We both had something to say that could have been of value. What made the difference was how it was presented. We were not forceful. We did not yell and scream and shout. We did not belittle her feelings and tell her that she was wrong. We asked her thought provoking questions that could only be answered by her. We wanted her to reflect on her own life to see if she had any experiences with what we were talking about. We found common ground, and when we did, we built on it. We chose to focus on what she already knew and had felt instead of trying to convince her of something cold turkey, and we did so as lovingly and in as friendly and caring a manner as we could. The result was a strengthened relationship, a greater trust, and newfound truth.
So the next time you find yourself in a "bashing" situation, when someone is yelling at you, when they strongly disagree, when the temptation to say "I'm right and you're wrong" emerges, fight it. As Abraham Lincoln once said: "If you would win a man to your cause, first convince him that you are his true friend." Find common ground. Build trust. Speak softly and lovingly. Be compassionate. Be loving. Be kind. Be gentle. Be understanding. Be Christlike.
"If you would win a man to your cause, first convince him that you are his true friend. Therein is a drop of honey that catches his heart, which, say what he will, is the greatest highroad to his reason, and which when once gained, you will find but little trouble in convincing his judgment of the justice of your cause, if, indeed, that cause be really a just one. On the contrary, assume to dictate to his judgment, or to command his action, or to make him as one to be shunned or despised, and he will retreat within himself, close all the avenues to his head and heart; and though your cause be naked truth itself, transformed to the heaviest lance, harder than steel and sharper than steel can be made, and though you throw it with more than Herculean force and precision, you shall be no more able to pierce him than to penetrate the hard shell of a tortoise with a rye straw."
- Abraham Lincoln.
