Out of the Shadow

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

---

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 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.'"

Doubting Dad's Beliefs

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.

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.

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."

Living Up to the Name

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, 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."

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."

© Biola University 2005