"Could you be wrong?" Joe asked as he sipped a cup of coffee. His half-open eyes were trying both to examine me and screen out the steam from his coffee at the same time. "I mean about Jesus--could you be wrong about Jesus being God and all that?"

As my mind scanned the evening's events, I wondered if Joe was asking an honest question. Our group had just completed an exciting discussion about life and God.

And it was quite a group! About seventy people had packed themselves into one of Baltimore's nicest homes. There were Catholics, Protestants of various denominations, some Jewish people, and several agnostics. There were also some who believed in reincarnation--one told me he remembered my being a saloon keeper in Baghdad 2,000 years ago!

Joe (not his real name) cornered me at the coffeepot after the discussion. We had barely exchanged introductions when he asked me if I could be wrong about a statement I had made claiming that Jesus was God.

"Sure," I answered.

"Really?" His head jerked back. I wondered whether it was because of my answer or the hot coffee he had just swallowed. Joe's next question convinced me it was not the coffee.

"How about the Bible? Could you be wrong about it being God's Word?" He straightened into a posture that seemed to say, "I dare you to answer that one." His eyes, wide open now, examined me like those of a trial lawyer. I wondered if the answer I had in mind would get me into trouble, but I barged ahead anyway.

"Of course I could be wrong about the Bible," I said. "Everything we know begins with some sort of faith. So, no one can be absolutely sure he's right." I paused to gauge Joe's response.

Because the February weather made the coffeepot corner a crowded place, Joe and I made our way back into the living room while we talked.

"You know something?" Joe continued as we sat down on an empty sofa. "I've never met a Christian who would admit that he could be wrong. I'm an evolutionist," he went on, "and I've decided that Jesus was wrong and so is the Bible. What do you think about that?"

Our Lord had a way of encouraging communication by answering a question with a question. So I tried it. "Tell me something, Joe, Could you be wrong--I mean about Jesus and the Bible? Could you be wrong about Jesus not being God and the Bible not being God's Word?"

Joe's expression froze. Apparently caught off guard, he say silent, his coffee cup leaning between his fingers and his teeth. After a few seconds he answered, "Well . . . uh . . . of course, I could be wrong. As you say, nobody can be absolutely sure he's right . . ." His voice trailed off.

"Well, then," I suggested, "if I could be wrong and you could be wrong, are you willing to look at this with me and see if we can figure out what's right?"

Before we were finished, Joe invited me to have dinner with him and his wife. We set a date. After several exciting discussions, both Joe and his wife received Jesus Christ as their personal Savior.

I recognized again that something almost mysterious happens in people when they are willing to consider the real issues. But first they must be assured that we are also willing to look at both sides.

When someone is open and receptive to the gospel, it may e easy to lead him to Christ. But what do you do when the person is not at that point? Do you forget him and go on to somebody else? That may not be so easy when the person is your husband or wife, son or daughter, mother or father, business partner, or someone else very close to you. What can be done to reach him when life's abrasions have left him scarred and hardened to the gospel?

Jesus spoke of four soils into which the Word is sown like seed (Matthew 13:1-15, Mark 4:1-12, and Luke 8:4-10). The soils, of course, are the hearts of people. If their hearts are well-prepared when we present the gospel, they may receive the Lord immediately and grow spiritually. If the soil is not ready to receive the seed, then it must first be softened. We should never compromise the Word, but we should cultivate the soil. Years of witnessing to all sorts of hearts have led us to an effective soil-softening idea.

The objective is simple. In talking with people, we attempt to get on their side of the issue and look at their questions as though they were our own.

It is tempting to build a wall of arguments, brick by brick, then offer comments that make the wall thicker. That, in turn, invites the person with whom we are talking to build up his side of the wall. The better the arguments, the thicker the wall between us. To avoid that result, we have endeavored to jump over the wall and work with others from their side.

From such a perspective we present twelve basic questions about Christianity. Since 1971 I have worked with a group of Dallas Theological Seminary students and alumni, plus several nonseminarians. We have worked out, used, and reworked answers to those twelve questions. The chapters that follow contain not merely facts, but chisels designed to chip away at the wall from the honest doubter's side.

This is basically a book for Christians, designed as a tool for use in "softening the soil" of the doubting heart. Each chapter is a journey into the thoughts of some unbeliever. All the conversations are real, reported as they actually happened. I have changed the names and edited the conversations to include questions that deal with the particular topics of each chapter. Many of those discussions are still in progress at the time of this writing. Some of those people, like Joe, have received the Lord Jesus as their personal Savior. Some, however, are still in the process of getting through their wall of doubts.

I hope I have provided not only a tool for the growing believer but also one that he may pass along to a friend trying to cope with any of these twelve questions.