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The view of conversion that I am going to present today — that of accepting Christ or inviting Jesus into one’s heart — is not necessarily part of anyone’s official theology. It is simply common practice among every evangelical group with which I have experience, particularly the Lutheran denomination in which I was raised. In that church, it certainly is not dogma, and does not fit at all with what is taught concerning conversion. Just to be sure, I spent the morning scouring my Luther’s Small Catechism Explained in Questions and Answers by H. U. Sverdrup and found nothing like it. Yet, when evangelistic sermons were preached, it was walking the aisle time.

Here is how it worked:

The preacher would present a gospel that was, as I remember it, very Lutheran; that is to say, theologically sound. Then he would, it seemed, toss Luther and slip into fundamentalist Baptist mode. A very emotional appeal would be made, asking the listeners to consider whether or not they knew they were saved. Then came the pitch. The pitch could come in a couple of ways. It could be an invitation to come forward to the altar, where the presumed penitent would be led in a prayer of confession, a request for forgiveness, a confession of faith, and either a declaration of accepting Jesus as Savior or an invitation for him to “come into my heart.” Or, more often, the preacher would take a more seeker-sensitive route, sparing his listeners from the embarrassment of a public confession.

“Now, with every head bowed and every eye closed . . . Maybe you’re here tonight and you’re not sure you’re saved . . . If you’d like to receive Jesus as your savior, raise your hand. Just slip it up, no one’s watching you . . . Pray with me . . .”

Now, what’s wrong with that? What is wrong with a confession of sin, a plea for forgiveness, a confession of faith? The answer, of course, is nothing. These are necessary elements of Christian faith. And even if accepting Jesus or asking him into your heart is not required, what’s the harm?

The problem is that the message is false. Regardless of what might be preached from the pulpit on Sunday, or taught from the catechism on Wednesday, the message of the moment is that reciting a prayer saves. It’s the ultimate evangelical abra-cadabra. Say the magic words, and presto, you’re saved! Anyone can do it. You needn’t be born again (John 3:3), crucified and raised with Christ (Galatians 2:20; Ephesians 2:5–6), or have been given a new heart (Ezekiel 11:19; 36:26). All that will be accomplished by praying the prayer. This is what is known as “decisional regeneration,” and it brings us to two tragic consequences of this practice.

First, it draws many to the altar who have simply been manipulated by good salesmanship. They may be afraid of going to hell, or have been moved by the sufferings of Christ; they may have been sold on the benefits of being a Christian. They may have experienced a variety of emotions, without having been born again. Yet here they are, reciting the prayer, and being assured that they are now saved — that is, if they really meant it.

Which brings us to the second tragic consequence: the loss of assurance for those who truly have been saved. If my salvation hinges on a moment in time when I prayed a prayer, how can I know it’s real? What if I wasn’t sincere enough, what if I wasn’t sufficiently repentant? Am I ever perfectly, completely repentant? Is my faith ever pure? The answer is an emphatic No! So the more honestly I examine myself, the more I must doubt my salvation. Why must I doubt my salvation? Because, ultimately, I am trusting in something I did to get it, rather than what Christ did to secure it. And I am thinking of faith as something I need to have to get my salvation, rather than something I have because I have been raised from death to life, because I am no longer “natural” but “spiritual.”

I’ve had this conversation several times, and in the end, when the other party understands that a prayer doesn’t save, that there is no holy handshake to seal the deal, they still want to know what to do to get sinners across the line into the kingdom of God. You can’t just preach the gospel and send them home, can you? No, that’s not what I’m saying. I am saying that if we really believe that there is nothing we can do to be saved, that Christ has done everything, we’ve got to stop saying, “Now, do this . . .” Instead, say, “Do you believe that Christ has made satisfaction for your sin? Are you trusting in him alone? If so, then he is your savior. You can believe that your sins are forgiven, that you have been made acceptable to God.” Then, in place of the altar call, offer counsel to any who desire it. Teach them to pray biblically, confessing sin, seeking forgiveness. Encourage them in their faith, or continue preaching the gospel to those who still lack it.

Preach sin and death; preach Christ and the cross; preach faith and repentance. Give assurance to those who believe, and counseling to all who desire it. But please: do away with emotional manipulation. Do away with “every head bowed, every eye closed, repeat after me.” Trash those horrible revivalist gospel songs. Stop preaching for decisions, and start praying for transformations.

Addendum: I thought I had written something like this before. I was right.