Let’s Tell Them a Good Story

A young man sat across from his friend in a pub in Ireland.

There was noise around them. Laughter. Glasses on tables. People passing by. Nothing about the moment looked like a Bible study. There was no pulpit. No offering plate. No PowerPoint screen. No sermon title projected behind a preacher. Just two friends talking.

One of them, Glausio, had a secular mind. He was focused on this life, not eternal things. He had left Brazil to study English in Ireland. His roommate, Paulo, had once been Adventist. Paulo saw something in Glausio. Not a problem to fix. Not a project to manage. A person to love.

So Paulo started telling stories.

Stories about life. Stories about purpose. Stories about prayer. Stories about the God who had been working behind the scenes long before Glausio knew how to name Him.

For eight months, Paulo led Glausio in a Bible study without opening the Bible. That sentence sounds strange until you think about Jesus. He did not always begin with a verse. Sometimes He began with a farmer, a field, a wedding, a coin, a sheep, a son walking away from home.

A story can open a door that an argument cannot.

Later, Glausio did open the Bible. He read Daniel and noticed that Daniel prayed three times a day. So Glausio began to pray. He fell in love with Scripture, was baptized in Dublin, became active in evangelism, and eventually felt called to pastoral ministry. All because someone told him a good story.

That is the heart of Christian storytelling.

It’s not entertainment or performance or making the gospel cute so people will pay attention. Christian storytelling is the work of saying, “Let me show you what God has done. Let me show you what He can do. Let me show you where your story may fit inside His.”

This world is full of narratives that shape our lives. Stories influence what we buy, what we value, how we see the world, and even how we make decisions. We are not simply moved by facts. We are moved by meaning. And stories give facts a place to live.

This is why a testimony can stay in the heart longer than a lecture. This is why a young person may forget the three-point sermon, but remember the moment the preacher said, “I know what it feels like to be afraid.” This is why the Bible is not written like a textbook. It is filled with gardens, floods, deserts, kings, widows, fishermen, prophets, rebels, mothers, shepherds, prisons, tables, tears, and empty tombs.

God could have given us a book of bullet points. Instead, He gave us a story and then He told us to tell it.

Moses understood this. Before Israel entered the promised land, he told the people not to forget what their eyes had seen. He told them to teach these things to their children and to their children’s children. Faith was not meant to sit in one generation like a candle under glass. It was meant to be passed, hand to hand, voice to voice, table to table.

Joshua understood this too. Near the end of his life, he gathered the people and reminded them of what God had done. He did not begin by saying, “Here are my opinions.” He began with God’s actions. God called. God led. God delivered. God provided.

The Psalm writers understood it. Psalm 78 says, “We will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord.” Why? So they would put their trust in God.

That is the goal of every Christian story: tell what God has done so someone else can believe He is still doing it.

Jesus understood this better than anyone. He told stories about seeds, lamps, lost coins, wounded travelers, wise builders, foolish builders, and sons who came home. Ellen White wrote that Jesus used things people already knew to help them understand things they did not know. Heavenly truth came dressed in earthly clothes.

If Jesus were speaking to young adults today, perhaps He would tell stories about a dead phone battery, an unread message, a missed flight, a group chat, a rent increase, a late-night panic attack, or a student trying to follow God while everyone else seems to have life figured out.

He would start where people live. Then He would lead them home.

The same is true for social media. For some, social media feels like noise. And yes, it can be. It can distract, compare, exhaust, and divide. But it can also become a place where young adults tell better stories.

Adventists have always believed in using the tools of the time to share the message. Our movement spread through printed pages, letters, papers, radio, television, evangelistic meetings, books, Bible lessons, schools, and personal testimony. Social media is not a different mission. It is a different road.

The question is not, “Should young adults use social media?”

The better question is, “What story are they telling with it?”

A young adult can use Instagram to share a thirty-second testimony of how God answered prayer. A student can post a reflection from Sabbath worship that helps someone else feel less alone. A musician can share a worship clip that points people to peace. A young professional can write honestly about anxiety, Sabbath rest, and learning to trust God in a demanding workplace. A campus student can make a reel about what it looks like to pray before an exam, serve a classmate, or start a small Bible study.

These do not need to be polished like commercials. In fact, they may be better if they are not. The secular mind is not always looking for perfect answers. Often, it is looking for honest witnesses.

A good Christian story on social media does not have to shout. It can be simple.

“Here is what I was carrying.”

“This is how I pray.”

“Here is what Scripture reminded me.”

“This is how God gave me strength.”

“Here’s why I still believe.”

That kind of storytelling has power because it feels human. It does not begin with an argument. It begins with a life.

But Christian storytelling also requires the storyteller to have credibility, which comes from their character. People receive stories differently when they trust the person telling them. If our words online are beautiful but our lives are cruel, the story breaks. If we post about grace but mock people in the comments, the story breaks. If we speak of Jesus but chase attention more than love, the story breaks.

The storyteller doest need to be perfect. But the storyteller must be honest.

Many young people are not rejecting Jesus because they have studied every argument against Christianity. Some are rejecting the version of faith they saw performed without love. They have heard religious words without seeing religious lives.

So the call is simple: know the story, tell the story, and live the story.

Tell the story of how God helped you forgive.

Tell the story of how Sabbath gave you rest.

Tell the story of how prayer carried you through grief.

Tell the story of how church community helped you stand.

Tell the story of how Jesus found you when you were not even looking.

And when words are not enough, let your life be living, breathing story of God’s good in your life.

Paul understood how to speak to people who did not share his background. In Athens, he did not begin by insulting the city. He noticed their altar to an unknown god. He quoted their poets. He started with something familiar, then pointed them to the Creator.

That is good storytelling. It listens before it speaks. It pays attention. It respects the hearer enough to begin where they are.

This is needed today. Many young adults are willing to talk about meaning, justice, mental health, identity, loneliness, purpose, and hope. They may not use church language, but they are asking spiritual questions. We do not need to panic because the questions sound different. We need to learn how to answer with patience, clarity, and love.

Parents can tell stories at the dinner table. Teachers can use stories in classrooms. Youth leaders can make space on Friday nights and Sabbaths for young adults to share what God is doing in their lives. Pastors can spend time with young adults, listen to their stories, and share their own, including mistakes and lessons learned.

And here’s the best news of it all: No one is too ordinary to tell what God has done.

That is truly the crux of good Christian storytelling that makes it so effective.

You don’t need a theology degree to say, “I was afraid, and God gave me peace.”

You don’t need a pulpit to say, “I was lost, and God guided me.”

You don’t need a platform to say, “I prayed, and God met me.”

You only need a willing heart, an honest voice, and a love for the person listening.

Somewhere in Ontario, there is another Glausio. Maybe not in Ireland. Maybe in Toronto, Windsor, Barrie, Hamilton, Thunder Bay, Ottawa, London, or Sault Ste Marie. Maybe in a university dorm. Maybe in a break room. Maybe in a gym. Maybe scrolling at midnight, wondering if life has any meaning beyond deadlines, bills, likes, and loneliness.

They may not be ready for a sermon, but they might be ready for a story. So let’s tell them a good one.

Let’s tell them about the God who formed us before we knew Him and about a Saviour who came close.

Let’s tell them about grace that reaches pubs, classrooms, church pews, phone screens, and lonely hearts.

Let’s tell them with our words, our posts, our tables; let’s tell them with our lives.

Because the world has enough noise. What it needs now is a good story. And the best story still begins with Jesus.

This article was written and is based on Tiago Rossendy’s article “Let’s Tell Them: The Importance of Christian Storytelling to the Secular Mind. The full research publication can be found online at the Journal of Adventist Youth & Young Adult Ministries.