It’s not easy to talk about faith right now. Especially if you’re young. Many people feel awkward, unsure, or afraid of being judged. We live in a time when religion makes people suspicious. Some associate it with harm, control, or outdated views. So, how do we talk about Jesus in this kind of world? And what does being a disciple look like when even mentioning church can feel risky?
Let’s start here: discipleship isn’t about having all the answers. It’s not about pushing your beliefs on people or turning every conversation into a sermon. At its heart, discipleship means following Jesus. Really following. And letting that shape how you live, how you treat people, and how you respond to the world around you.
Dallas Willard, in The Divine Conspiracy, said that the church has often replaced discipleship with “consumer Christianity.” In other words, we make faith about what we get—peace, purpose, community—rather than what we give or how we live. Willard reminds us that discipleship is about apprenticeship. Learning to live like Jesus. Walking closely with him, not just admiring him from a distance.
This matters because when evangelism feels hard, our lives become the message. People might not want to hear a rehearsed gospel pitch. But they might notice how we respond to stress, how we treat people who can’t give us anything back, or how we deal with failure. Eugene Peterson called discipleship “a long obedience in the same direction.” That’s not flashy. It’s slow, steady, and quiet. But over time, it speaks.
Young people feel the tension here more than most. They’re growing up in a world that values authenticity above almost everything else. So anything that feels fake, forced, or overly rehearsed doesn’t land. And often, they’ve seen religion misused or turned into politics or performance. No wonder they hesitate.
But maybe that’s where real discipleship comes in. Not the loud kind, but the honest kind. The kind that admits doubt. That listens before speaking. That shows up for people even when it’s inconvenient. This isn’t a new idea. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, writing during Nazi Germany, knew all about costly discipleship. In The Cost of Discipleship, he warned about “cheap grace”—grace without change, belief without action. For him, following Jesus always came with a cost. But he also believed it was worth it. Even in a culture hostile to faith, Bonhoeffer called the church back to the basics: follow Jesus with your whole life.
Today’s challenges are different, but the call is similar. Discipleship isn’t about image or status. It’s about substance. And it often shows up in ordinary places—friendships, workplaces, schools. Theologian Lesslie Newbigin once asked, “Can the West be converted?” He didn’t mean mass revivals. He meant communities of people who live so differently—so truthfully and lovingly—that others have to stop and wonder why. He saw discipleship as public truth. Not just private belief.
So how do we live that way now?
First, we stop thinking about evangelism as a sales pitch. You’re not trying to close a deal. You’re trying to live honestly with people and let Jesus shape that honesty. You can say, “I don’t have it all figured out, but here’s what I believe and why it matters to me.” That’s more powerful than a script.
Second, we create space for questions. Discipleship isn’t a club for people with perfect theology. It’s a journey with room for doubt and disagreement. Letting someone wrestle with faith without fixing them is part of the job. Even Jesus asked questions. He didn’t always answer them.
Third, we pay attention to what we practice. What habits shape your life? What do you watch, read, spend time on? Being a disciple isn’t just about what you believe in your head. It’s about what you do with your body, your time, and your energy. Prayer, service, rest, generosity—these aren’t just disciplines. They’re signals. People notice.
Fourth, we tell stories. Not just the big dramatic ones, but the small ones. How has Jesus helped you stay grounded during a hard time? What does grace look like in a real-life situation? Stories connect where arguments don’t. They make faith human.
Fifth, we stay in it for the long haul. One conversation rarely changes someone’s life. But ten years of faithful friendship might. Don’t give up just because the results aren’t instant. That’s not how formation works.
This is why community matters so much. You can’t do this alone. You need people who remind you what you’re aiming for. People who challenge you when you drift. And people who remind you that Jesus is worth following even when it’s hard.
Let’s be honest: we’ve seen a lot of bad models. Religious leaders who failed. Churches that excluded. Movements more focused on influence than faithfulness. No wonder people are cautious. But that’s also why good discipleship matters so much right now. Not the kind that yells, but the kind that listens. Not the kind that hides flaws, but the kind that names them and grows.
Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, once said, “The call to discipleship is the call to be a place where Jesus is visible.” That’s it. You’re not Jesus. But you can be a signpost. A glimpse. A question that lingers in someone’s mind.
This might not feel like “evangelism” in the old sense. But maybe that’s okay. The world has changed. The way we share faith might need to change, too. Not the message—but the method. And that change starts with how we live. Not louder. But deeper.
So if you’re young and unsure, don’t wait until you feel like a spiritual expert. Start where you are. Follow Jesus in the small things. Stay open. Stay kind. Stay curious. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be real.
And that might be the loudest message you ever share.
