Ryan Dobson first realized how famous his father was in the sixth grade.
One day, during roll call, a substitute teacher called his name. "Is that 'Dobson'
like Dr. Dobson," the teacher said. "Yah, he's my dad," Ryan said. "Oh, I know
you wish he was, honey," she said. "He is Ryan's dad!" the other kids insisted.
The next day, the teacher sent five books home with Ryan for his father to sign.
by Holly Peters * Photography by Louis Felix
Dr. James Dobson
Americans are fascinated with celebrities, from actors and musicians to
politicians and sports figures. In the Christian world, the celebrities are
often big-name people in the ministry, like Dr. James Dobson, the founder
and president of Focus on the Family. Since starting his radio program 27
years ago, Dr. Dobson has become an icon of evangelical Christianity. And
sharing the limelight with him have been his wife, Shirley, and children,
Danae and Ryan.
So, what's it like being the child of a famous Christian? Ryan Dobson,
who graduated from Biola in 1995, said family fame has both blessings and curses.
Other children of prominent Christians agree, including Biola alumni Sean McDowell
(son of Josh McDowell, author of Evidence That Demands a Verdict), Kyle Strobel
(son of Lee Strobel, author of The Case For Christ) and Amy Warren-Hilliker
(daughter of Rick Warren, author of The Purpose-Driven Life).
A Life Less Ordinary
Ryan Dobson is a case study of a famous Christian kid. Ever since he was
young, his father hasn't been able to go anywhere without being recognized.
"If we were interrupted during dinner, my dad would stop and talk to people
as long as they wanted to. He's one of the most engaging people I've
ever witnessed," said 33- year-old Ryan, who admires his father and considers
him one of his best friends. Although the two share similar passions, Ryan - who
has earrings, tattoos and bleached hair - likes to tease his dad about
always wearing a suit. His dad, truth be told, might prefer that Ryan dress
more conservatively.
During his childhood, Ryan's classmates would listen to Dr. Dobson's
morning radio program and tell him about it at school, especially when his
father told stories about him. (Now Dr. Dobson asks Ryan's permission
first).
Wherever Ryan goes, people want to talk to him about his dad's ministry.
Mostly, they share stories of how it's touched their lives. But Ryan
is often approached by people who want to pitch a business deal or book ideas,
hoping he will share them with his father. As a result, Ryan has become a private
person with a tight-knit group of friends.
But not everyone is a fan of Dr. Dobson. He has occasionally received death
threats for his stances against things like gambling and pornography, both
of which, Ryan said, are mafia-run. A few years back, a gunman took hostages
at Focus on the Family. The office has had armed guards ever since. Ryan got
his first bulletproof vest at age 15.
"I know it sounds weird, but you just get used to the threats," Ryan
said.
Growing Up in a Fish Bowl
The hardest part about being Dr. Dobson's son, Ryan said, has been the
pressure to be perfect.
Ryan's parents never placed unrealistic expectations on him, but other
Christians did. He didn't feel like he could be a regular kid.
"If I was riding my skateboard, someone would say, 'Oh my goodness,
what do your parents think about you riding a skateboard' I would say, 'They
bought it for me.' Or if I was wearing a black T-shirt, people would say, 'What
does your dad think about you wearing black' I'd say, 'I
don't know. I don't think he cares.' I realized early on that
I was probably not going to be everybody's ideal of what James Dobson's
son should or shouldn't be," Ryan said.
Ryan Dobson ('95)
Ryan carried this pressure with him through his rebellious teenage years
and into college. Before attending Biola, he went to another Christian university
where he spent more time playing in rock bands than attending classes. For
two and a half years, his parents warned him they would stop paying his tuition
if his grades didn't improve. Even so, Ryan was shocked when they finally
did.
"I never dreamed, in a million years, they'd actually do it," he
said.
Ryan had a rude awakening when he was forced to get a job to pay for his
own expenses. After eight months of getting up at 3 a.m. to work as a cook,
he realized he wasn't going to have the life he wanted if he didn't
go to college."
My parents must have been embarrassed for their son to be bumming around,
not doing anything, but it showed integrity for them to withdraw their support," he said.
When they asked Ryan if he'd like to give college another shot at Biola,
he said yes. While there, he studied communication.
"I loved Biola because I had a new respect for college," Ryan said.
After graduation, Ryan worked a couple of jobs, first at the Family Research
Council in Washington, D.C., and then with a youth ministry in Orange County,
Calif. During this time, he struggled with feeling that his identity was swallowed
up by his dad's. At age 25, Ryan decided it was time to get serious
about his relationship with God, but wasn't sure if he could be 100
percent sold-out.
"It took me about five or six years to say, yah, I really can. It's
not that I have to be perfect, but - like David - I have to have
my heart in the right direction," Ryan said.
Today, Ryan has a ministry writing and speaking to youth, encouraging them
to remain sexually pure until marriage and to stand for truth. He has authored
one book, Be Intolerant: Because Some Things Are Just Stupid, and has two
others on the way: 2 Die 4 and Growing Up Dobson (his and his sister's life story). Be Intolerant has received much criticism for its opposition
to a false view of tolerance. Recently, so many protestors showed up at a
Canadian concert where Ryan was speaking that it had to be cancelled. But
like his dad, Ryan won't let opposition stop him.
Now a grown adult, Ryan still encounters Christians who wish he'd adopt
his father's strait-laced persona.
"They say, 'You're nothing like I thought you'd be,'" Ryan
said. "I say, 'Yah, I hear that a lot.'"
Sean McDowell didn't feel the weight of his dad's fame until he came to
Biola. He had grown up in the small town of Julian, Calif., where his dad's
ministry didn't get much attention. So Sean wasn't prepared for the reaction
of students and parents when his dad helped him move into his dorm, Hart Hall.
As they walked by, people kept whispering, "That's Josh," and asking Sean,
"Is your dad really Josh?"
"I didn't look at my dad as being this well-known Christian leader. He was
just my dad. And then, all of a sudden, it was like he was a celebrity, and
I was getting all this attention," Sean said.
But then came the drawbacks. He was often introduced as the son of Josh
McDowell, making him feel like he didn't have his own identity. And because
he felt like he was always being watched, he didn't feel free to be himself.
Sean felt this most acutely the summer after his first year at Biola, when
he began wrestling with his faith. After reading some materials by skeptics,
he began to doubt the resurrection and Christ's deity ironically, two issues
his father had become famous for defending.
Sean McDowell ('98, '03)
He finally got up the nerve to share his doubts with his dad.
Sean said, "I want you to know how much I love and respect you, Dad, but
I don't really know what I believe about these things. I've never come to
my own conclusions about them."
His dad said, "Son, I think that's great."
Sean said, "Dad, did you hear what I said? I'm not sure if I believe this
stuff."
His dad said, "I heard you, son, and I think it's great because you care
about the truth, and you don't want to believe things just because you were
told them. You need to find out if Christianity is true. But in your search,
I hope you'll take to heart the positive things you learned growing up."
For the first time, Sean felt the freedom to honestly investigate his doubts.
Josh McDowell, a Talbot graduate, said he knew Sean would work through his
questions.
"I know Christianity is true, and I knew my son would do an honest inquiry,"
Josh said. "Besides, I had done everything I could to bring him up in his
faith, love him, and allow him to see that faith lived out in my relationship
with his mother and family. If he chose to walk away from that, then that
was his decision."
Sean did find answers that satisfied him, and today he is working with his
father to update The Resurrection Factor, a book Josh McDowell wrote in 1982
in defense of the resurrection. Sean also heads the Bible department at Capistrano Valley Christian Schools in San Juan Capistrano, Calif. Like his father, one of Sean's goals is to help young people ask the tough questions about Christianity so they can make their faith their own.
Like Father, Like Son
Kyle Strobel said that, as the child of a famous Christian, people make
many assumptions about him.
In high school, people assumed Kyle was very spiritual because his father,
Lee Strobel, was a pastor at Willow Creek Community Church in Illinois. They
made this assumption even though Kyle was a poor student and was continually
getting into trouble.
"It was crazy. I used to hang out with another pastor's son, and we were
constantly being told by people that we were different from the other kids,
that we were more spiritual," said Kyle, who is now 25 and an aspiring pastor.
Kyle Strobel ('02)
In fact, parents used to take away their kids curfew's when they were with
Strobel and his friend.
"That's just ridiculous. What mother lets her daughter go out with two pastors'
kids and takes away her curfew," Kyle said, laughing.
In college, when Kyle started getting serious about his faith, he had difficulty
knowing if other students (including women) wanted to be friends with him
out of sincere motives or if they were drawn to him because of his last name.
"[When your dad is a famous Christian,] there's a sense that people aren't
putting him or you on the same level as themselves. It's this weird super-Christian mentality," Kyle said.
Today his father is most known for his bestselling book, The Case for Christ,
that details how he went from being an atheist reporter to a believing Christian,
using tools of investigative journalism. Because of his book, Kyle said many
people think his father is a genius. When Kyle was in the M.A. philosophy
program at Talbot, his friends always told him they couldn't imagine what
dinner conversations were like at his house.
"If people saw dinner at my house, they would probably just laugh," Kyle
said. "We're not dialoguing about philosophy."
Kyle said his father is a normal guy - goofy and notoriously messy: it's
not unusual for his office chair to be resting on a car pink slip or one of
his manuscripts.
One assumption people make about Kyle today is that he shares all the same
views of his father. While Kyle admires his father as a godly man and evangelist, he has become a critic of the seeker-sensitive movement of which his father
is a proponent. Before authoring The Case for Christ, Lee Strobel wrote the seeker-sensitive manifesto, Inside the Mind of Unchurched Harry and Mary.
Throughout college, Kyle's theology professors made him the defender of
seeker-sensitivity in classroom debates, not realizing he opposed the movement.
"I would argue for it anyways simply because I knew my arguments were better
than the ones people were using against it," Kyle said. "I'm very harsh on
the movement, but, at the same time, my whole family became Christians in
it."
Kyle said not seeing eye-to-eye with his father proved difficult at times.
But they have a mutual respect for each other's ministries, despite differing
methodologies.
"It's healthy to debate how to go about fulfilling the Great Commission in each generation," Lee said. "I'm encouraged that Kyle and others are pursuing innovative ways of bringing the gospel to young people."
Perhaps the toughest expectation famous kids deal with is one they put on
themselves. It's the pressure to live up to their parents' level of influence.
Amy Warren-Hilliker ('00)
Amy Warren-Hilliker, who attended Biola from 1997 to 2000, struggled with
this. Her dad, Rick Warren - probably the most influential pastor in America -
has sold 16.5 million copies of his book, The Purpose-Driven Life, which is the fastest-selling non-fiction book in the history of publishing. Over 8,000 churches have participated in his 40 Days of Purpose Campaign.
Although Rick Warren's fame has skyrocketed since The Purpose-Driven Life
was released, he has been well known in ministry Amy's whole life. So her
circles have included many influential Christians. She often worried that
her life might not be significant if she never influenced thousands of people.
"When you're around so many powerhouses, it's easy to feel like ministry
is not worth it unless it's big," said Amy who, at 24, is a stay-at-home mom.
She learned two lessons that gave her perspective. One, being a child of God
gives her significance, not anything she does. Two, influence looks different
in every believers life.
"What God chooses to do in my dad's life is what God chooses to do with
his life. And what God chooses to do with my life is what His will is," Amy
said. "I just need to be open to Him and His plan and allow Him to work through
me."
Rick Warren
Amy said another challenge has been her dad's critics.
"My dad is really great in dealing with critics but I'm not - not just because
he's my dad, but because I think they are often wrong," Amy said.
Common criticisms are that Rick Warren is only concerned about numbers, that his ministry is solely a marketing strategy, or that he has oversimplified
the gospel.
"When I hear these things, my feeling is that they just don't know my dad
or his heart which is only to see the world come to Christ and to see lives
changed by the power of God," Amy said.
Yet, she is grateful for the opportunities for influence that have accompanied
her dad's fame, something she feels a responsibility to steward well. She
recently wrote two children's books based on The Purpose-Driven Life for Zondervan's children's division.
Pulling Strings
Kyle's life verse is Luke 12:48: to whom much is given, much is expected.
He knows his last name opens doors other Christians will never have, such
as the book he's writing and he doesn't want to take those opportunities
for granted.
"The publisher will probably spend a lot more time looking at my proposal
than they would someone else's, which is nice, but totally unfair," Kyle said.
"But I guess that's the way it works, especially in the publishing world where
name means a lot."
Kyle admitted that whenever he sees a famous kid get published, he automatically
assumes they got strings pulled.
"We've all seen plenty of books by famous pastors' kids and wonder how in
the world they got published. I have no desire to put more garbage out there,"
he said.
That's why Kyle has taken his education so seriously. In addition to his
master's degree in philosophy from Talbot, he's about to finish a master's
degree in New Testament, also from Talbot. Then he plans to earn another master's
degree and a Ph.D.
"That much education may seem totally gratuitous," Kyle said, "but I don't
want to be someone who's in a place of ministry just because I'm Lee Strobel's
son. I want to have my own authority."
Carving Out Their Own Identity
Ryan, Sean, Kyle and Amy are proud of their parents and hope to carry on
their messages in their own ways.
Sean said that, like his dad, he wants to dedicate his life to helping youth
make right choices and seeing the truth of Christianity.
"I don't think I'll be on Campus Crusade or do exactly what he did. But,
in my own way, I think I can make a difference for a lot of the things he
stood for," Sean said.
Ryan said he also has similar messages to his fathers with his emphases
on sexual abstinence and truth. But while he used to feel his identity was
overshadowed by his dad's, since starting his own ministry he no longer does.
"I'll never take over Focus on the Family because I'm not called to that,"
Ryan said. "God created one James Dobson for a reason. I'm called to my own
ministry."