A semi-common argument against evangelization (AKA sharing your faith with others) is based on how personal responsibility increases with knowledge. It goes like this:

“If people who don’t know/are less familiar with God aren’t as liable for their sins, then it’s wrong to tell them about God because you’re increasing their chances of going to Hell.”

I’ve been noodling over this and came up with a few counterpoints, ordered by what I think secular folks will find most compelling:

That is a whole-ass adult. It’s selfish and prideful to assume we know what’s best for others. We should share what we know and let them decide what to do with that info.

Friends don’t let friends keep hurting themselves. People’s sins still hurt them, even if they don’t realize the extent. It’s cruel to withhold information that could help them.

It’s dangerous out there alone; take this. The devil is actively attacking people, even if they don’t know about God. We shouldn’t force them to face that alone.

No one likes a gatekeeper. God’s love and grace brings incredible healing and joy, and we should let others experience that too.

Task failed successfully. Faith isn’t just a series of rules; it’s an intimate relationship. Being perfectly united with God is what makes Heaven such a wonderful place. Being separated from God is what makes Hell such a horrible place (it’s the main source of suffering). By denying people the chance to know God, you’re separating them from Him, literally making their lives more hellish.

The devil and demons tempt us to sin. Then, they manipulate and emphasize our shame over that sin to drive us to despair. We don’t feel like we’re worthy to ask for forgiveness/change for the better/find happiness and healing, so we never do. And then they win and get our soul.

That’s why it was so important that Jesus spent time with and showed compassion to the worst sinners of his day—the prostitutes and tax collectors who supposedly would defile him just by their presence, the murderer who hung beside him on the cross. He showed that there was more to them than their shame.

If we’re brave enough to reach out—to let our jagged edges see the light of his love instead of hiding them away—he breaks the chains of shame so we can be free from the devil’s control. He offers us a path to healing and happiness.

CONTENT WARNING: I’m going to talk about the Catholic Church’s position on transgenderism and how that differs from intersexuality. If that’s going to upset you, I recommend skipping this post.

Then you look it up and learn that, yes, the martyrdom of ten thousand people in Nicomedia is supported by historical documents and they can actually specify it likely happened in the year 303 A.D. under the beginning of Diocletian’s reign.

Historians estimate that between 250 and 311 A.D, 60,000 Catholics were martyred. That’s around 1,000 a year, or three a day, for SIXTY YEARS.

“✨We are the granddaughters of the witches you couldn’t burn.✨” Oh yeah? Well we’re the descendants of the Catholics you couldn’t kill. Of people who stood firm in the face of horrors beyond comprehension, who knew that hours or days of pain was nothing compared to the ecstasy that awaited them. I pray that I can have a fraction of their courage and dignity, a hint of their resolve and charity.