Wrestling with Evangelism

9/16/2013

First off, I’m not wrestling with whether we should do evangelism. I have no doubt that Jesus meant it when he said no one comes to the Father except through him, and so everyone without him has a serious problem. My trouble is, how can we ever sit back and relax if we believe billions of people are quickly approaching eternal damnation? This issue bleeds into apologetics, defending the veracity of our faith. Most people in America don’t take our dire warnings of coming judgment seriously; they see no reason to change their lives and follow Jesus or go to church because they’ve heard the warnings, they’ve seen the billboards about hell, and they’re not buying it. And why should they? Do we live like it’s true? Do we feel the burden of lost people? We use metaphors in the church to help us understand the urgency of our mission, a deadly disease for which only we have the cure, or a sinking ship where we’re in the lifeboats. Any metaphor has shortcomings, of course, yet in truth, how are people to believe they are really in need of rescue when we treat potlucks equal in importance with saving the lost? If I met a man sitting on his couch watching TV and eating chicken wings who claimed that next week the Canadians were going to launch a full-scale invasion against the US, I’d brush him off as crazy; if I met a platoon of soldiers going from neighborhood to neighborhood giving people air raid instructions and recruiting young men to fight the imminent invasion of the Canadians, I might still think they were crazy, but I’d start investigating their claims more seriously. What’s the difference? The consequences fit the beliefs. You can’t believe something of that magnitude without it affecting your priorities. So how are people going to think we’re anything but crazy until they see the fitting consequences of our beliefs on our priorities and actions?

But it’s far more complex than that. Christianity is more than just a lifeboat on a sinking ship, more than just fire insurance for a day of judgment. God’s plan is about more than just Judgment Day. He is going to restore the world to the way it should be, where people treat each other lovingly, creation is ruled rightly, and people are brought into communion with their Creator. The church, we believe, is the early expression of that, the inauguration of the kingdom that is to come. And it is fitting and right for the church to be concerned with worship and growing in communion with God, with the care of the environment, with the sort of tangible care in the church we see in Acts 2 and 4, and with social justice and compassionate ministry for the poor. The question, I think, is one of priority. Do these ministries of worship, creation care, spiritual growth, etc. squeeze out the urgency of saving people from being eternally separated from the Giver of life? If we had to weigh the preservation of a forest with the eternal joy or suffering of a single person, which would be weightier? They’re not mutually exclusive, as though we must choose between being good stewards of the earth and reaching out to the lost, even as being a person who reads their Bible and prays does not exclude playing tennis, but it’s awfully difficult to focus on both at the same time. What gets priority? Is it understandable that the urgency you would expect to see accompanying a belief as grave as the coming eternal suffering of several billion people should lose its edge in the face of these other concerns? How do we decide what to focus on?

We have some help making that decision. Our culture is happy to help us choose: Don’t get in our face about hell. Don’t go spreading your bigotry, your hate speech, your exclusive religious propaganda. Care for the earth, care for people, be nice to each other, stay in your own building and praise God, but don’t go judging people and imposing your beliefs on them. The message is clear. Most of us who have tried to do evangelism have experienced it, probably quite forcefully. The church has picked up on these cues. Our problem, we tell each other, is that we’re too focused on the negative. Instead of telling people about sin and hell, we should tell people about all the good stuff God can do for them, the peace and joy and fulfillment they can experience—or if you’re THAT sort of Christian, the material blessings and health God will give to those who have enough faith. Tell people that God will love them and take care of them and make them whole, and then maybe once they signed up for a small group we can break it to them gently that they’re under the wrath of God until they trust in the death of God’s Son for the atonement of their sins. But try to present it positively. (Am I mocking or misrepresenting parts of the church? I don’t mean to, I’m just struggling to find the right position.)

Even those who have no desire or intent to water down the gravity of our ministry find themselves buffeted, set back, deterred. Jesus said the way to destruction is like I-94 going into Chicago in the morning—wide and densely populated. Few will find the gate that leads to life. And we’ve seen corresponding negative results in our attempts to share the gospel, though we would like to think if we were a little better trained or more passionate our results would be better. And it sure is a lot more rewarding to see success in giving to the poor, getting through good books, and singing rich, God-honoring songs. So which are we going to invest in? That which is encouraging and worthwhile and acceptable to those within the church and without, or that which is desperately urgent but uncomfortable, painful, and vociferously opposed by those around us? Why don’t we treat reaching the lost with the urgency it is due? Just try it and you’ll see. The need is no less urgent, nor less binding the command, but there are so many less frustrating ways of obeying Christ and participating in the mission of the church. Maybe we’ll just leave the saving of the lost to those gifted for it.

So we have our status quo. People like me look and hope and pray for ways to be effective, for relationships to make a difference in, building bridges strong enough to bear the weight of the gospel, as they say. They carry on with the less offensive ministries they are involved in, trying to show the love of God, building up the church, hoping that God will open a door for the gospel and save some of these lost people we live among day in and day out. And it drives us crazy that this urgency of lost people dying without salvation is not connecting with the consequences that would seem to naturally follow, but other responsibilities and bad past experiences inhibit us. What is the answer? Full-blown, no holds barred, door-to-door evangelism? Patient, cautious relationship evangelism drenched in prayer? Preaching the gospel at all times through good deeds, and when necessary, but only if absolutely necessary and preapproved, use words? Should we all be more bold and active? Should we be more patient and circumspect? Are there several good possibilities depending on our gifts and situation? What constitutes an inappropriate posture or behavior toward evangelism, whether not doing enough or beating people over the head? I continue to wrestle.