Evangelism

I’m coming up on my one year anniversary of my first pastoral appointment.  And I have a lot to say about church planting: about how I'm learning to risk and persevere, about the experience of herding cats (um, I mean progressive Christians), about how much easier it is for people to talk about churchy things over wine, beer, or coffee, and about how I see a lot of people seeking spirituality and asking questions.  Maybe at some point, I’ll write a little ditty on each of those things.  For today, I want to write a bit about what evangelism looks like to me.

I know, I know.  That word “evangelism” is probably conjuring up modern images in you—maybe a political voting block, praise and worship music, praying a certain kind of prayer, a robust faith.  Let all that go for a second so we can look at few ways the word has been used.

At one time in the not so distant past, the most prominent feature of those identifying as evangelical was that they had a transformative experience (sometimes referred to as being born again).  While I believe faith is made up of lots of those transformative experiences—some bigger than others—I dig that definition.  I think one of the most important things about Christianity is its ability to move people, change people, transform people, heal people.  Naming those transformation moments "born again" works for me. 

More recently though, in this postmodern era, the defining feature of evangelicals has shifted to a specific doctrine of Scripture, one that largely views God as the author of the Bible and, as such, purports the Bible is to be interpreted literally and is inerrant.  This definition I don’t dig.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m a Bible geek.  I think the Bible contains a message that has been utterly transformative for every generation.  But it’s also a product of a different time, and not all of it applies to every age.  We sometimes let the little historical things get in the way of the big message.

Looking back on the New Testament, the Greek word that we’ve translated “evangelist” shows up in the New Testament three times.  It describes those with the spiritual gift of heralding the good news of Christ’s saving power.  Now this is a definition I definitely dig.  And that word "heralding"... that word rings.  By this definition, I’m all in.  I’m an evangelist. 

Now, I’m a pastor in a post-modern age in a culture that—for both good and bad reasons—is becoming less and less religious.  How do I evangelize in this day and age?

Well… the most common way is to show people their need for something and then show them that something.  I was recently at an Ava Anderson product party.  I thought the nontoxic household products were interesting.  And I’m all for reducing the chemicals in our environment.  The most interesting part of the party, though, was watching the workshop.  The hostess gave statistics on the health risks of household product chemicals and the environmental impact.  She showed us our need.  And then she showed us the product.  How could I not be convinced?

And I thought to myself, interesting how this type of sharing/heralding works in the church too.  Christians use this technique (I’ve certainly used it a lot).  Unfortunately, its been used in not so great ways too...   “You have a need for faith because without it you won’t get into heaven.  [Under breath] which means you’re going to hell.  So, let me show you the saving power of Jesus.” 

But what if I don’t actually think God is going to send people to hell?  I don’t know (or care) what the other options are, but I’m absolutely sure the loving force of the universe absolutely refuses separation from creation, including people... especially people.

Well, well, this makes heralding a little different.  I absolutely think Christ’s saving power is worth heralding.  But if it’s not about hell, what are we being saved from?  Or being saved for?

Lots and lots.

A story…

I met a woman who hadn’t been to church since she was a teen.  She explained that a few times she wanted to walk across the street to the church next door because she really needed it at some times.  One time she found herself there, but the doors were locked.    

These are the moments of evangelism.   Not to be saved from hell, but being saved for a better way.  Being helped and maybe healed.  And if God couldn’t completely save her from whatever was going on in those times, wholeness was certainly an option. 

Those moments… the birth of a baby, a death of a parent, an accident, an illness, a job transition, a divorce, a marriage, or something that makes you walk across the street to a church.  It’s in those moments people realize a need for Jesus and look for someone to herald it.

I'm convinced the best evangelism is not when I show people their need for Jesus.  Instead, it's when they show their need for Jesus, and I get to share good news.  Healing and hope… A chance at transformation and wholeness.  Now that’s saving power.

Evangelism, for me, has been about seeing and listening.  Looking for and listening to those who are sharing.  And getting to tell them about the power of Jesus in my life.  Heralding the good news:  a different way to do life and death and life again.  Over and over and over.  Now, that’s being reborn.