Ignoratio elenchi is the logical fallacy of presenting an argument that may in itself be valid, but does not address the issue in question. A “red herring” is a deliberate attempt to change the subject. It is a sneaky way of diverting attention away from a subject one might rather not face, or an argument he cannot logically refute. It is often used in the face of criticism: criticism is expressed, the object of said criticism, or a defender, shoots back, “Oh, yeah? What about you?” The first party may then reply, “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you (or whatever the topic),” which will seem evasive, but is actually the correct response.

On internet forums, fertile breeding grounds for logical fallacies (and every other variety of ignorance), schools of red herring abound. Which brings me to today’s topic, which will likely be a rant of sorts. Tim Challies recently brought us a tragic-comic example of evangelism gone horribly wrong (click here). He posted without much comment, but did say that “obviously I appreciate the man’s desire to share the good news of the gospel and to train others to do the same.” I echo that sentiment, and got a good laugh out of the examples he posted, as well as a twinge of pain over the absolute atrocity they represent.

As could be expected, mocking comments were made, though nothing cruel or inappropriate. They were really pretty good-natured. And before you could say “kippers,” the red herring came swimming. These fish were quite grieved that anyone would criticize a brother whose intentions were obviously so good. They acknowledged that the material in question was indeed atrocious, but — here we go — “What are you doing to reach the lost? Sure, you Calvinists can mock, but most (or many, at least) Calvinists don’t care about evangelism at all.” Or, “I’m a Calvinist, but I was saved in a church like that. God used it, so you shouldn’t criticize. That makes me sad.” Well, if personal experience means anything, I’ve got a story, too, which I’ll get to in a bit.

But before I do that, I’ve got other fish to fry.

First, the ignaratio elencti, implying that the critic doesn’t evangelize. As the old saw goes, what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China? Nothing whatsoever. It’s just a weak retort to unpleasant facts (if they are not facts, why not refute them logically?). Furthermore, it is also an argumentum ad hominem, attempting to discredit an argument by insulting the arguer. These tactics deserve no respect, and get none here. If you must object/disagree, the least that is required of you is a relevant, valid argument.

Second, and speaking of valid arguments, your feelings do not represent any kind of argument at all. Many things I see and hear make me sad. The basis upon which I must judge them is not how they make me feel, but whether or not they are true. Maybe I need to be made sad. Now, it might be argued that we needn’t always tell the truth. After all, you wouldn’t go out of your way to tell someone they’re ugly, would you? No, I wouldn’t; but if someone pokes me in the chest and attempts to exert “terrific psychological pressure” (see Tim’s post) on me for any purpose whatsoever, I’ll call that ugly. If that makes you feel bad, well, good; you need to feel bad.

Now, the story I promised.

I cannot write words adequately venomous to describe my hatred for the psychological manipulation of salesmanship evangelism. I spent my entire youth in evangelical churches in which the biblical gospel was taught, yet not knowing how I could be saved because of tactics far less egregious than those described in Soul-Winning Made Easy. I raised my hand, I walked aisles, I made decisions for Christ, I asked Jesus to come into my heart, I prayed the sinners prayer, but the fruit of salvation never materialized. I believed that Jesus was knocking on my heart’s door (he wasn’t) and, by reciting the right formula, I could let him in; and so I did, several times. But he never stayed! What was wrong with me? What was I doing wrong? I asked that question of the evangelists who “led me to Christ” for the umpteenth time. The answer always involved something I wasn’t doing to maintain my salvation. Salvation, of course, was free, but I had to go get it, and then keep it. They would deny having taught that, but that is the unavoidable implication of the evangelism they practiced. That confusion lasted into my twenties. In hindsight, I believe I was saved sometime during my twenty-first year, because that is when I saw signs of a genuine change of heart.

So I have no kind words for salesmanship evangelism, beyond a nod to good intentions (which are notably difficult to cash). It is not only unbiblical, it is anti-biblical. And it is certainly not benign. It is not a harmless error, but gospel-denying cancer.

Let me conclude with a word to the good folks of my youth who so confused me, and those who are wondering how, then, shall we evangelize?

Preach the Word, in season and out. Preach sin and death. Preach Christ and the cross. Preach atonement, propitiation, imputation. Preach repentance and faith. By all means, be available to personally counsel the convicted.

But please — do away with the emotionalism, the manipulation, the salesmanship. You can’t sell salvation. You can preach Christ, but you can’t cause regeneration by any method. So do away with “with every head bowed, raise your hand if . . . ,” “Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling,” walking the aisle, the “sinner’s prayer,” your entire bag of tricks. You might be able to sell vacuum cleaners door-to-door that way, but regeneration is not a product. Lazarus was not convinced to “come forth.” He was dead. He was miraculously brought to life by the power of God, and so did what live men do: at the command of Christ, he came forth. So it is and will always be for all who are saved.