I came to faith at 24 years old, 11 months into my marriage. The Lord saved my wife and me at the same time. That He would do so was—and continues to be—one of the kindest gifts He has given us. We became part of a vibrant new community of people who loved Jesus and lived for Him. It was awesome. We began to grow in so many ways because, when you’re surrounded by people who seek to honor the Lord in marriage, finances, business, and character, growth tends to be exponential.
But there was just one problem.
I began to grow distant from the friends I’d known all my life—the guys who knew the first 24 years of my story: the good, the bad, and the ugly. These were the people who stood to gain the most from seeing a changed life, but somehow they were drifting further and further away. It wasn’t intentional. It just… happened. Sadly, this is a common story.
Research by missiologists Alan Hirsch and Michael Frost shows that within 1–2 years, between 80–90% of new Christians lose vital connection with their non-Christian friends. Why does this happen?
There are several reasons—some understandable, others more concerning. Depending on the situation, it may be wise for new Christians to temporarily step back from old environments, especially when those places are tied to harmful behaviors. But more often, as priorities shift in the heart of a new believer, old friendships enter a time of testing. Compromise becomes a temptation, or interactions become awkward, and it feels easier to pull away entirely.
Another major contributor is that churches unintentionally overload new believers with church-centric activities. Groups, serving teams, conferences, classes, workshops—even informal hangouts—can absorb a new Christian’s entire social life. When the mission of God becomes disconnected from the growth of the disciple, churches may unintentionally work against the Spirit’s desire to plant the gospel in the very spheres of influence that new believers came from.
So how can we prevent this from happening?
By recapturing the ordinary means God has always intended to use: everyday people, living faithfully in everyday places.
We see this in Mark 2, when Jesus calls Levi the tax collector to follow Him. Two things in this passage show us how to remain intentional with Jesus right where we are.
First, the very next thing Jesus does after calling Levi is go to his house and share a meal with Levi’s friends. Jesus didn’t remove Levi from his circle; He called Levi to follow Him within his circle. There would come a time when Levi would be sent far and wide, but not at the start. Jesus’ mission works from the inside out—first in the heart, then through the whole body. First Jerusalem, then Judea and Samaria, then the ends of the earth. First at home, then outward through our relationships. This is about more than strategy; it’s about integrity and conviction.
Second, Jesus kept Levi close. He showed him, day by day, what it meant to love God and neighbor so that, when the time came to engage his friends—friends Levi truly cared about—Jesus went with him. He didn’t send him out alone. There is strength in numbers. Rather than extract Levi from his friendships, Jesus entered those spaces with him.
This is ordinary Christianity.
From the beginning, the Christian mission was about entering the world, not retreating from it. Michael Green, in Evangelism in the Early Church, notes that the gospel spread primarily through ordinary believers—not professionals. They shared their faith in homes, markets, on roads, and over meals. Evangelism wasn’t a specialized task; it was a joyful overflow of a transformed life.
Green writes, “Here were men and women of every rank and station in life… so convinced of the one true God whom they had come to know, that nothing must stand in the way of their passing on this good news to others. …They did it by preaching and personal conversation, by formal discourse and informal testimony… They might be slighted, laughed at, disenfranchised, robbed… but this would not stop them… In Christianity they had found something utterly new, authentic and satisfying.”
And that’s still true today. Ordinary people. Ordinary friendships. Extraordinary grace.