Discussion Questions

The speaker proposes, “If God’s word is foreign to us…God must be foreign to us also.” What concrete experiences in his story (Amish upbringing, house church influences, sermon-on-the-radio drift) make that claim feel believable to him, and what parts of that claim might a modern Christian instinctively push back against? JumpstartAnother way to ask: He says if God’s Word feels foreign to us, then God feels foreign too. What parts of his own story make that seem true to him, and why might many Christians today disagree with that idea?

When the River Brotherhood preacher John Christner responded to the jailed drunk neighbor with pity and prayer instead of “Good for him,” what does that reveal about God’s heart and the “Christian character” the speaker says left an impression on him—and how does that confront the way Christians often talk about “those people” today? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why did the preacher respond to the jailed drunk neighbor with pity and prayer instead of “Good for him”? What does that show about God’s heart, and how does it challenge the way Christians talk about “those people” today?

The speaker describes a childhood shaped by fear, violence, and control (“torture chamber,” leather straps, the dog Lassie used as leverage). How did that environment distort his view of authority and obedience, and how did God later begin to untangle “obeying dad” from being ruled by fear? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How did growing up with fear and control twist his view of authority and obedience? How did God later help him separate “obeying dad” from just being afraid?

In New York, an Amish preacher personally listened to him and then told him, “God can use you to change your family.” What does that statement assume about how God works through “the weak” (a 16-year-old boy) and through obedience in hostile circumstances, and how does that compare with common evangelical expectations of “getting out” as the main solution? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What does “God can use you to change your family” assume about how God works through a weak 16-year-old and through obedience in a hard home? How is that different from the usual advice to just “get out”?

The speaker describes a “supernatural power from God” encountered in the hay barn, even while admitting he “didn’t have all this theology figured out.” How should a serious Christian weigh that kind of experience alongside doctrinal understanding, and what does his story suggest early Christians may have assumed about conversion, repentance, and lived change? JumpstartAnother way to ask: He describes a strong experience of God’s power even though he didn’t understand much theology yet. How should Christians weigh powerful experiences against knowing correct teaching, and what does his story suggest about what early Christians expected conversion to look like?

He says that after prayer he looked at his dad—previously a “scary monster”—and thought, “My dad’s actually a good-looking person,” then went and told him, “I want to obey you.” What does this moment reveal about God’s ability to change perception and affections, and where do you see (or not see) that kind of inward change discussed in your own church background? JumpstartAnother way to ask: After praying, he suddenly saw his dad differently and wanted to obey him. What does this show about God changing how we feel and what we want, and do you hear much about that kind of inner change in your church background?

The speaker’s Amish baptism felt fear-driven and depressing, tied to the threat of excommunication: he felt like running, but “fear… I just gave in.” What does his account expose about how religious systems can use vows, community pressure, and fear of consequences, and how would early Christians have evaluated a “baptism” entered with dread rather than joy? JumpstartAnother way to ask: His Amish baptism felt forced by fear and pressure, not joy. What does that show about how religion can use vows and fear to control people, and how might early Christians judge a baptism done with dread?

When he later told a coworker, “If you would die right now, you’d go to hell… I would go to hell too,” because of excommunication, what does this reveal about assurance, salvation, and who has authority to declare someone “in” or “out”—and how does that clash with the typical evangelical way of talking about assurance? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Because of excommunication, he believed both he and his coworker would go to hell if they died then. What does that say about assurance and who gets to decide who is “in” or “out,” and how does that differ from how evangelicals usually talk about assurance?

In the house church, he taught “blessing follows obedience,” using women’s head veiling as an example, and was sharply resisted: “It’s not a salvation issue, so we should not be talking about that.” How does that conflict expose competing definitions of “obedience,” “salvation issues,” and what belongs in public teaching—and what might early Christians have assumed about the relationship between outward practices and faithfulness? JumpstartAnother way to ask: In the house church, he taught that blessing comes from obedience and used head covering as an example, but others said it’s “not a salvation issue.” What does this fight show about different ideas of obedience and what should be taught publicly, and how might early Christians connect outward practices with faithfulness?

Near the end, he warns that when a command seems “foreign,” seminaries or Christian colleges may “find a way to explain that away,” which he calls “very dangerous,” linking false prophets → lawlessness → love growing cold (Matthew 24:11–12). Where have you seen “explaining away” happen in real life (in yourself or your Christian environment), and what specific practices would help a congregation measure teachers by fruit rather than by persuasive explanations? JumpstartAnother way to ask: He warns that when a command feels strange, schools or leaders may “explain it away,” which he says is dangerous (Matthew 24:11–12). Where have you seen people explain away hard commands, and what could a church do to judge teachers by their fruit instead of smooth arguments?