I am going to be teaching about a topic and software package that I am still learning myself.  I’m a little unnerved about it, to be honest, but I was thinking that at least I have been studying up on it and feel that I am a little ready.  It’s the hardest thing to try to teach others things that we are still learning about and that brings me to the topic of faith.  Does anyone really know God?  

I think that my whole life has been highlighted by many many attempts to get to know God and know what I believe about Him.  In trying to discover God, I have formed some opinions.  Still, they are just that–ideas, opinions, faith.  So, why do some Christians just seem so sure that their interpretations are the right ones?

I may very well have the answer to that after my upcoming training session because sometimes the appearance of authority is often half way to being an authority of something, and it could be that I know a little bit more than those I am training.  All the same, in matters of faith, we really have to listen to a host of opinions and take an educated guess as to what school of thought we are going to hang our hat on.  Perhaps that’s the biggest reason that Jesus didn’t want any of us to judge, as tempting as it may be.  We’re all in a different state of learning.

Whenever someone tells me they “know” something about God, I get a little uncomfortable twitch going down my spine like an itch that you can’t reach.  I’ve made a lot of statements about God, but I usually try to couch those statements as opinion rather than going the “I know” direction.  That doesn’t minimize what I believe about God.  It only means that I leave myself open to being wrong.  I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been wrong about stuff as much as I have. 

You see, one of the things that makes conversations about God possible for me with all types of people is my availability.  I’m open to the possibilities that are out there, willing to accept that my ideas aren’t necessarily the whole truth, and willing to listen.  It’s fair game in a conversation about faith to be willing to hear the ideas of others as well as being willing to speak your own ideas so I share my ideas, but I listen as well.  One-upmanship won’t do either.  Haven’t we all known that person who would one-up everything we said or did?  If we were sick, they had typhoid fever.  If we won the lotto, they were already a self-made millionaire.  After a while, that person’s opinions become null and void.

Nobody likes being around a know-it-all because they don’t listen-they tell.  They tell us their truth and expect us to agree, but they don’t leave an opening for other ideas.  A know-it-all doesn’t learn anything new because they don’t choose to.  If we are to be able to talk and discuss openly our faith, we have to leave knowing behind and venture into the world of wonder and hope where we’re still able to remain open to the possibilities that others have to offer.  It doesn’t deconstruct weak faith, but instead makes weak faith stronger and it makes us accessible to the wonderful give and take of ideas.

Several years ago, a friend of mine gave me a Jesus pencil topper.  She guessed that I would find it humorous and she was right about that.  In our senior ministry, we try to bring the seniors a gift every Christmas and Easter.  Admittedly, we have gotten some silly gifts, such as the stuffed frogs that said, “Leap of Faith” or the Lambs wearing a T-shirt that said, “Lamb of God.”  My personal favorite were the plush flowers that had notes attached that said, “Flowers are smiles from God.”   These days, it isn’t unusual to find T-shirts, jewelry, and just about anything with the Jesus label on it.  I was particularly struck a few years ago when I found out that there was even a Jesus amusement park.  Merchandising Jesus has never been more popular.

I don’t mind all that, really, but if I have to be honest, I know that it kind of smacks of the whole clubhouse mentality.  After all, you aren’t going to find an atheist wearing a “Jesus Saves” T-shirt, unless it’s the one with a piggy bank on the front.  The truth is, I would never expect anyone to be saved because of a stuffed frog or a T-shirt.  It’s more of a way to send a message in a tangible way, I suppose.  In our senior ministry, the seniors love it.  They ask for extra to give to their grandchildren.  We give them extras.   It doesn’t replace a good message, good music, or a warm hug, by any means.

Even though I am one of the top consumers of these types of goods, I still flinch a little when I think about commercializing Jesus in that way.  I think He would, too.  Still, we can’t really ignore the fact that Americans are incredibly consumer-oriented.  We sit around and think about the next big item that we are going to buy.  It is as ingrained in our culture as expecting the lights to come on when we flip a switch.  I sometimes wish that we could step outside of our own consumer-oriented culture so that we could find out what exactly it is like to place our value in people rather than objects.

For me, it started at a young age.  We lived in a small town where a cool car driven up and down main street was what defined one as a person of interest.  For most of my teenage years, I lived on that main street, but I didn’t have a cool enough car to be considered of interest, I suppose.  It wasn’t until I started to work directly with those in need, though, that I really started to get it.  Suddenly, I knew that I couldn’t continue to live as if I weren’t responsible for those in need. 

I recently heard a story about a father and daughter driving down the road.  Suddenly, their daughter mentions the disparity between the mercedes to her right and the homeless man to their left.    “If that man could be happy with a less expensive car, that man over there could have a place to live,” she tells her father.   There was the gauntlet.  Suddenly thrown out into plain view for her and her family.  They eventually sold their house and downsized, giving half to charitable ventures. 

I wish I had half the courage that that family had.  I wish that I could take a moment and say, “Do I really need that china set and hutch that I never use?”   But I am already a card carrying member of the American dream club.  So, I do what I can and I tell myself that I am doing more than most.  Still, I won’t pretend that it doesn’t bother me.  It’s not something I’m proud of.

We Americans have a real problem on our hands.  We like to buy.  We go out on the weekends and we walk around the shops in our towns and buy more things and those things don’t do anything to further our faith.  They don’t do anything to bring us closer to having a genuine and real faith–not even when we’re buying a Jesus pencil topper.   Buying things won’t ever get us where we need to go because Jesus isn’t for sale.  He made that pretty clear, but we still keep trying.  

Most of us are that young rich man who came forward to Jesus professing to have kept all of the commandments, but unable to give away his worldly goods to really follow Jesus.  I keep hoping that Jesus doesn’t really expect me to do that, and I know that most of the U.S. feels the same way.  A friend of mine, raised in Bogota, Colombia, once told me, “You Americans always want things.”  She once had a big home in Colombia, but it was destroyed in the blink of an eye by the bomb blast from a car bomb parked near their home.  No housing insurance.  No emergency assistance.  Everything gone in a moment.  Still, no one was injured and they were thankful for that.  They rented a tiny flat in Bogota for the rest of her years growing up.  I remember the tears rolling down my face as she told me her story that late night as we talked deep into the night waiting for sleep to overtake us.  I felt sad for all of us who put too much emphasis on things and far too little emphasis on people. 

I hope that we haven’t given up our souls for a security that doesn’t exist.

My husband and I needed some repairs done on our pool this week and found someone using the yellow pages.  Unfortunately, after one visit that put our pool in a worse state, we were put in a bad position because we had already paid a couple hundred bucks for something that wasn’t completed and wasn’t done right in the first place.  After several attempts to get the gentleman out to fix the problem with no response, we finally starting looking into the history of the business and found that the business license listed in his ad was a bogus number as well.  So, as a final resort, my husband left a message for him that he would be contacting the D.A. regarding the situation. 

A couple of days later, we got a series of desperate phone calls from what sounded like a very inebriated pool guy that finally culminated in our cutting off all contact with him.  However, before it got to that point, the gentleman told my husband that he wasn’t being very “Christian.”  That left me thinking about what the expectations are of Christians in these types of real world situations.  I wondered if the guy really expected that a Christian was supposed to withdraw quietly when they were being ripped off. 

When the term Christian is batted around, a lot of expectations go along with it out there in the world.  I get that we are expected to live up to another standard, but what do those outside the Christian church expect that standard to be and what do they expect a Christian to behave like?  Can we live up to those expectations?  I wonder if it is even possible and if it is, why we can’t seem to live up to it. 

I realize the pool guy wasn’t an honest and upstanding guy and his comment was intended to hurt, but it also illustrated a huge gap between Christians and others.  This breach illustrates that there are expectations about how we are supposed to respond and how we are supposed to react in each situation and in those situations we are carrying a great responsbility because we are supposed to be living in a way that makes a difference.  I feel the burden of the responsibility that we are taking on in trying to live up to those expectations at times. 

It doesn’t really matter whether or not the expectations of others are realistic or even fair.  What matters is that they exist and because they exist, we must deal with the reality as it is rather than how we want it to be.  Personally, I think it would help a lot to know what those expectations are rather than to spend my time wondering what they are.  However, it may just be possible that those outside the Christian faith don’t really spend much time thinking about what their expectations are, either. 

The only way that we can come to an understanding of one another is to enter into dialog with those who are different from us and consider that there may be both realistic and unrealistic expectations from both sides.  There may indeed be a level of “good living” that we are not living up to, but there may also be an expectation that we should live to a higher level than is realistic as well. 

We are all flawed.  We wrestle daily with our imperfect natures as we try to strike a balance between our flaws and our faithfulness.  This is what makes us inherently human.  Still, we desire to live in a way that makes others take pause and consider that we have acted in a way that is honorable and upright.  If that is our goal, we must endeavor to know what others expect and what others believe about us and we must be able to handle the answers that we get back.  All I am really advocating is for real truth and transparency.  After all, the truth has set us free.

Doubt is often thought of as the opposite of faith, or the enemy of faith.  We also tend to think of faith like a liquid in a cup, and consequently more is always better. But faith is measured by Jesus in terms of action. It isn’t about having the right beliefs, or enough sincerity about them, or enough of anything, really. It’s the object of faith that matters, and whether or not we ACT upon our faith in some way. That’s why a gentile Roman centurian could have greater faith than anyone Jesus had ever seen in Israel (Matt. 8:5-13). It’s not the amount of faith that matters, but what the faith is IN. And acting upon that, regardless of the amount.

Is it possible to have faith AND doubt at the same time? I think so. No human being can be absolutely certain of anything (that’s something only God can be). I even think Jesus, our model for what faith looks like, may have wrestled with doubt hours before his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane. If Jesus is fully God AND fully man (as we have historically believed and creedally confessed, at least since the fourth century), and if Jesus actually DID set aside the privileges of deity, as Paul says in Philippians 2, then we have a Jesus who wrestles, as all men do, with doubt. The only (but critical) difference between Jesus and us in this matter is that he was without sin (tempted in all the same ways, but never crossing the line…Hebrews 4:10 ). We have a sin nature that Jesus didn’t, but he was tempted in all the ways we are. Since doubt is a very real part of the human experience (one that is the result of human limitations, and which does not require us to sin), it’s quite likely that Jesus was experiencing doubt in this moment of prayer in the garden.

I would also submit that the fully human Jesus didn’t have the whole playbook on what was going to happen from day one. In setting aside the privileges of deity, he presumably had to learn his alphabet, the Torah, and how to trim his beard. At the end of Luke 2 we have a wonderful little snapshot of the adolescent Jesus in the Temple, a story we have in no other Gospel accounts. It must have come from Mary, his mother, since the only eye witness to this particular story who was alive at the time Luke wrote it (Joseph had died early) was Mary, who “treasured all these things in her heart” from that day on. It was a big day. Jesus, the twelve year old boy-man, spent three days in the Temple with the teachers there while his parents frantically looked for him.

49″Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” 50But they did not understand what he was saying to them.

The Temple was not Joseph’s house…it was the Father God’s house. I think this little snapshot is included here because Mary recognized that her son Jesus discovered that his Father was God…not Joseph.  Both Mary and Joseph, of course, knew this was the case (the Christmas story makes it clear that they both got messages to this effect from God), but it’s likely they didn’t actually raise Jesus like he was God in the flesh.  There is not any reason or record to think they did…in fact, just the opposite.  Jesus obeyed the Father (think about what that implies), did nothing but what the Father did, and “grew in wisdom and stature among men.” Jesus learned along the way, just like us.  This is usually called “progressive revelation” meaning, Jesus slowly discovered who he really was as he grew.  It doesn’t mean he didn’t have special intuition or that he didn’t know some things that would happen, but he didn’t seem to have the whole future mapped out for him in advance.

So back to the Garden. Jesus is asking the Father, three times, if there is any other way to get this job done besides going to the cross. If Jesus had the entire game plan in advance here, this would seem to be either a dumb question or some kind of teaching moment for those who were supposed to be watching and praying with him. Except those nasty bloody sweat drops of agony recorded in the Luke account of this story sort of takes the “object lesson” possibility off the table. His agony in this prayer may have been about his anticipation of separation from the Father (our usual theological explanation for the blood-sweat here), but that is a bit of theological speculation.  What we can say for sure is that Jesus knew what flogging and crucifixion looked like, and that he was convinced that was what was going to happen next (he told the disciples that this would happen three times prior to this moment).  That would be enough for anyone to sweat blood, I would think…and to plead to God for some other way.

I think Jesus was possibly (and I say this with a HUGE awareness of the implications here) struggling with doubt about what was going to happen…whether this was really the best and only way. He was needing to trust the Father for the outcome (faith), and he of course did so. He resolves to put his faith in the Father, despite his doubts, and says three times, “Not my will, but your will be done.” Faith, perhaps no greater faith on record…in the midst of doubt.  Jesus not only says this in the face of doubt and fear, but ACTS upon it, heading straight to the horrific beating and death that loomed before him out of sheer dogged obedience to the Father.

Faith and doubt are partners. If we didn’t doubt, then we’d be absolutely certain of the outcome…and faith would not be required, would it? But without faith, it is impossible to please Him (Hebrews 11:6). And without doubt, there can be no real faith.

Some of us doubt, and we feel terrible about it. Like some of the eleven, we are often too chicken to even admit it. In some circles we’d actually be shunned for having doubts, so sometimes we just keep our mouth shut and pretend to be “full of faith” (perhaps like some of those eleven, until they got face to face with Jesus and just couldn’t fake it anymore). But I’m telling you…Jesus is not deterred by our doubts. He’s just asking us to show up, doubts and all.

Just show up. That is what faith actually looks like. That is what faith actually DOES.

And this is why I think we are all included in the Great Commission, along with those rascally eleven who didn’t have it all figured out yet, either. One thing is for sure, none of us can use doubt as an excuse to avoid the mission Jesus hands us. So keep showin’ up and see what happens. Doubters are always welcome.

My husband and I just finished recording a song that we wrote together.  He wrote most of the words of the song that is an analogy of our being a gem in God’s crown.  They are wonderful words of a powerful and beautiful self-identity that is wrapped around our faith and gratefulness of the new creation that God has made us.  It has caused me to take a look at how self-identity and self-talk makes a difference in how we relate to others. 

We’ve all heard the stories about people who tear others down in a psychological move to make themselves appear better.  It is one of the uglier of our human attributes, but we’ve all known someone who was like that and if we’re honest, we can also admit that we have been like that at times ourselves.  Regardless, the person who takes part in that kind of action is a person whose self-image is less-refined.  A person who is driven by that kind of psychology is struggling with self-acceptance.   

How important do you think it is to have a healthy sense of yourself in order to be better at relationships with others?  I have learned that it is critical.  I learned it because I lived on both sides.  I remember days when I looked at others and thought only negative things about them.  My first response was to tear them down in my mind and be critical of them, but as I grew more comfortable in my own skin, I grew more comfortable with not having to compare myself with others.  Letting go of that dysfunction was integral to my being able to achieve better relationships with others.

I spend a lot of energy talking about how selfishness obstructs us from loving others, but liking yourself isn’t the same as selfishness.  Selfishness has more to do with preoccupation of one’s self, and that isn’t what I’m advocating.  I know we’ve all heard that the “Greatest Love of All” is learning to love yourself.  I don’t think that’s 100% true, but I do think that a good self-image is necessary to having healthy relationships.  I’ve found that I am able to give of myself more when I know inside that I am a person of value.  To me, it means that I have something to offer the relationship and when I know that, I offer it willingly.   Of course, getting to the place of being a person of value is the hard part, isn’t it? 

When I was 29 and still single, I worried that I would never be married.  While I worried, I never attracted a soul.  The day I stopped worrying and let things go, I suddenly became the most attractive woman in the room.  Everyone is attracted to that person who is self-assured and confident.  That’s why knowing one’s self is so important in regard to the relationships that we are building with others.  Anyone who thinks that how we view ourselves plays no part in how we relate to others is just plain in denial.  It has everything to do with it.  We talk so much about getting to know others, but it’s all for nothing if we don’t have a good relationship with our own inner child.  It’s important that we know ourselves enough to know why we react the way we do and why we are drawn to certain types of people.

There are some aspects of my own personality that I don’t know if I will ever be able to change for the better, but if I face them honestly and acknowledge my own imperfections while also embracing the good aspects of myself, I have started to create an environment for others to feel safe around me.    Being a safe haven is what makes relationships meaningful and lasting.  Embracing the ideal that we are one of God’s sparkling gems through no effort of our own is the beauty of the message that we are trying to share.

There’s a fascinating and usually overlooked blip in the highly revered Great Commission in Matthew 28. We usually quote it from verse 18 through 20. This is the primary motivational passage for Christians to do what we call “evangelism.” Here’s the part we quote, from the New International Version:

18Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

I won’t go into this much, since you’re likely already very well taught on it and I doubt I’d add much to what you already know. But here are the two preceding verses that I find incredibly intriguing…the ones we don’t normally refer to.

16Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. 17When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted.

Here’s the same two verses in The Message translation:

16-17Meanwhile, the eleven disciples were on their way to Galilee, headed for the mountain Jesus had set for their reunion. The moment they saw him they worshiped him. Some, though, held back, not sure about worship, about risking themselves totally.

I had never really noticed these two verses before, and when I did I immediately asked myself, “Some DOUBTED? Some of WHO? I want NAMES!” Verse 16 tells us who: Some of the “eleven.” That’s the original twelve disciples minus Judas Iscariot. The same guys who literally lived with Jesus for three years as his students. He taught them, he performed miracles in front of them and with them, he corrected them and sent them out to do mission work in his name. They watched him get hauled off to the monkey trial that ended in his execution by crucifixion. They huddled up, scared and depressed (Peter went back to fishing, remember?). But Jesus showed up, alive, just as he said he would. They saw the empty tomb. They were wowed by him just appearing in a locked room with them. Jesus was back.

Then for the next forty days Jesus, the resurrected Jesus, reinforced who he was to these guys (and many, many others as well) by appearing all over the place to individuals and groups as large as 500 (1 Cor. 15:3-7). And now, just before he physically ascends to heaven, he gathers his remaining key leaders for a final charge. He tells them to meet him on a mountain top, and the eleven show up for the appointment. When they get there, it says they “worshiped him,” which seems pretty appropriate given Jesus has pretty much done everything necessary to prove that he is God in the flesh. Once you’re convinced of that, worship is pretty much what happens when Jesus is right in front of you.

And then we read these three words: “…but some doubted.” How could this be? Which of these eleven were still fuzzy about Jesus? It doesn’t tell us (gracious of God, I think), but there is one guy it wasn’t, for sure…Thomas. Remember “Doubting Thomas?” He’s the guy who had the integrity to admit that the idea of a guy, any guy, coming back from the dead was crazy. He wouldn’t believe it unless he saw Jesus with his own eyes, and got to touch the wounds in his hands and side. Jesus shows up and settles the doubt for Thomas (and at that point, presumably for the rest of the eleven) by inviting him to touch his wounds. Remember Thomas’ response? He fell to his knees, crying out “My Lord, and my God.” Thomas was convinced who Jesus was in that moment, for sure. And he worshipped him on the spot.

But that was pretty early in the 40-day resurrection run. By verse 16 we’re at the end of that period. So I’m pretty sure Thomas was not one of the “some” a this point who still doubted because, well…he already crossed that bridge. What’s interesting to me is that this means that there must have been others among the eleven who doubted at the same time Thomas did. They just didn’t have the guts to admit it out loud. Thomas gets a bad rap, and ever since then, doubt has, too.

Ok, back to the story at hand. Jesus is about to give the final marching orders for the new Kingdom of God at hand here, and he’s doing it with his chosen team leaders. I find it disturbing to think that they’re not all on the same page regarding what we have historically believed was an essential doctrine of the Christian faith: Jesus is God in the flesh. This is the acid test for spirits, according to John (1 John 4:2). It’s at the core of our faith and is sort of the line in the sand when it comes to orthodoxy. God became flesh and moved into the neighborhood (John 1:14). His name was Jesus.

So how would you feel at this critical point if you were in Jesus’ shoes? I can’t imagine myself not being totally bummed. I mean, what’s a guy have to do to get a little respect here? This is the birth of the church we’re talking about. We just can’t have any fuzziness about the very nature of Christ the King here…too much is on the line. So, you guys who are doubting…have a seat. I’m going to have a little meeting with the guys who “get it” and we’ll be right back. Sheesh.

But not Jesus. Eugene Peterson, in “The Message” translation, puts verses 18-20 this way:

“Jesus, undeterred, went right ahead and gave his charge: “God authorized and commanded me to commission you: Go out and train everyone you meet, far and near, in this way of life, marking them by baptism in the threefold name: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Then instruct them in the practice of all I have commanded you. I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.”

I love that. “Jesus, undeterred, went right ahead and gave his charge:” It didn’t bother Jesus that some of his guys were doubting still. He was undeterred. He went ahead and gave the Great Commission to the whole lot of them…including the doubters. Why? If certainty about the very nature and person of Christ is not what is required to be qualified to be sent on this great mission to make disciples in all the world, what does qualify them (or anyone else) for this mission?

Here’s what I think. The clue is in verse 16. Jesus told them to meet him on the mountain…and they showed up. And because they showed up, they got charged with the massive task of making disciples of Jesus in all the world. They got the commission simply because they were asked to meet Jesus on the mountain and they were obedient. They didn’t have it all figured out, and some of them still doubted what we consider a core issue about the deity of Christ. But they showed up anyway, and Jesus commissioned them all.

If they hadn’t showed up that day…well, I don’t know what would have happened. I’m just glad they did. Because they showed up that day, a lot of stuff happened to and through them that resulted in me knowing and following Jesus today. I’ve never felt more thankful, or amazed, about that than right now.

Next week: Part Two…

Contagious But Not Quarantined, An Adventure in Telling Others About Jesus
by Timothy W. Fisher
OutskirtsPress.com
http://www.betterworldbooks.com/book-id-1432749277.aspx

Can I recommend a book to you? Pastor Tim Fisher has put together a very thin (97 pages) nearly book-let that gives permission to be engaged with God in connecting others to him…without having to become an evangelist. Here’s his own intention for the book, stated at the end of chapter one:

“This book is written to those who desire to share their faith in a way that is beneficial and practical. I know what it’s like to be an evangelistic jerk, and I know what it’s like to share the good news in participation with what God is already doing in people’s lives. The principles contained in this little book will be so practical and downright normal that some may question whether they really count as evangelism. Maybe it’s time we lay that question aside once-for-all, and instead relate to people as Jesus did. My hope is that by applying these simple principles you will forget to “do evangelism” and sharing your faith will become a regular and exciting part of walking with Christ.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

Tim has taken the basics of what we call Doable Evangelism and brought them alive by way of personal stories, biblical stories, and a few acronyms (apparently he has not been healed of this particularly Christian disorder yet). When he asked me to read the manuscript, I was initially reluctant…but he had me at the title of the first chapter (“Confessions of an Evangelistic Jerk”). A former evangelistic jerk, I found great comfort in knowing I am part of a new recovery movement in the church: “Hello, my name is Randy. I’m a recovering evangelist.”

Tim is a pretty good story teller, and he did a wonderful job of being vulnerable about himself and gentle with the rest of us. The primary pressure in this book is to be who you already are. To interact with those all around you. To pay attention to what God is doing in the lives of others. No guilt, no shame tactics, and not much to memorize. Unless you want to memorize the “PINCH” acronym (as in “a pinch of salt”), which goes like this:

Prayer
Interest
Noticing
Conversation
Help

To be honest, I had to go look them up again. Not a big fan of acronyms. I always seem to forget what they are supposed to help me remember. But as you can see, these five themes are all about doing stuff that is doable…which I kind of like, naturally.  And there is NO PRESSURE TO CLOSE THE DEAL WITH ANYONE.  This is refreshing as well.

So, if you are a pastor looking for a good teaching series on evangelism (you know…the DOABLE kind), this book is your ticket home. Tim gives you six or seven chapters that focus on stories from the life of Jesus that would be wonderful sermons in a series (I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that’s what they were before they ended up in the book!). Most of these would be great Young Life club talks, too…if there’s anyone out there in Young Life land looking for new material.

If you’re in a small group that wants to explore new ways of thinking about evangelism, there are questions at the end of each chapter that can guide your group through meaningful discussion about what has been a rather taboo subject in recent years.

If you’re among the majority of Christians who have given up on evangelism, who cringe at the word, and who bear a fair amount of guilt and shame regarding your non-participation…this book is for you. Read it and be encouraged. You will get some really doable, normal ideas for ways to connect with what God is doing in the people all around you in your ordinary routines of life. This will be really good news for you.

And finally, if you’re another recovering evangelist like Tim and me, read the book and join us in helping Christians talk about their faith without being jerks. You are not alone. And you are not crazy. You’re just recovering, like us. We have a new mission together…to change the way the Church thinks about evangelism. Will you join us?

It’s really quite encouraging to see this new paradigm shift for evangelism be expressed in lots of ways by a lot of different voices. Tim Fisher has added to the chorus, and I for one am very thankful to have another book to recommend to our readers. Thanks, Tim.

When you watch the Olympic skaters, you see that there are easier programs and more difficult ones.  Those who choose to take the more risky programs are sometimes rewarded greatly if they are able to make it through their program without errors, but those who play it safe are also taking a certain gamble.  They are gambling on the fact that the risk-takers won’t be able to translate their risky moves into a win.  I think maybe that’s the way that evangelism feels to most people.  Even as I use that word “evangelism” I find myself wanting to use more palatable terms like “outreach” or “connecting with others,” but I know that that is largely because many have a misconception about evangelism and what it is.

Evangelism can be risky, but I think it’s more about being real and being honest about who we are as an individual.  I was thinking how difficult it is when an iceskater doesn’t know their limitations and their talents.  They might take risks that are too ambitious for them or they might play it too safe thinking that they can’t do more.   A competitor has to know what they are capable of and what their talents and gifts are. 

I’m no Billy Graham.  I can’t stand in front of thousands to offer words about the wonderful good news of Christ, but I know that I am a good storyteller, and storytellers often tell their stories in ways that reach people on the other side of their brains–in the art center.  So, I don’t waste time trying to be Billy Graham as it would be a disservice to both me and Billy.  Instead, I approach things the way that is best for me.  I am just being myself and I am comfortable wearing that skin.

There was a time that I thought I had to be someone else, but I learned over time that it was too difficult trying to morph myself into another likeness and I learned that people liked me better as I was.  I was much more entertaining as a whole and open individual who accepted herself and didn’t worry about the perceptions of others.  Maybe being yourself is a kind of a risk for some people.  Maybe it’s like saying, “Hey, this is who I am and and I am taking the chance that you will like who I am.”

I often think about the Jesus that I read about in the gospels.  His honesty is breathtaking and his sincerity is flawless.  Sometimes he would say things that made others uncomfortable, but they always made an impact because they were real.  He was a risktaker, but clearly comfortable in His own skin. 

It makes me wonder how we could hope to bring the message of the good news to someone else when we don’t even know enough about it for ourselves.  That’s really it.  We have to know how our faith lives in our own lives before we can try to figure it out in the lives of others.  We need to apply it to ourselves first, and only then will we learn that it isn’t something that we can apply to the lives of others.  They also have to apply it to themselves.  Faith is an inside out kind of thing and we can only hope to live it well enough that others might see our lives and wonder why we live so well.

In that sense, then, maybe we are risktakers when we seek to live in such a way that our lives give us a pure definition of who we are and what we believe.  We don’t need to stand before thousands or even stand on a street corner with a megaphone, we only need to apply it to ourselves and live it well.  That’s a risk worth taking.  It’s going for the gold that is within each of us so that we can inspire others to find the gold within themselves as well.

My husband, son, and I went to breakfast Sunday morning and I saw one of my husband’s bosses come in.  At least, I thought it was, and so I mentioned him to my husband and after we finished, we passed right by their table.  Not wanting to be rude, my husband stopped in front of his table and said a great big, “Well, hello there!” only to find that he was staring into the face of a total stranger.  Oops…My bad…My poor husband was so surprised and embarrassed that he didn’t bother to explain to the guy, he just turned and walked away as quickly as he could.  I don’t know how long I laughed at that, but I’m still laughing.   Poor guy!  I’ve had my own share of moments when I have waved back at someone only to find that they were waving at the person standing behind me, but I am not the kind of person to get overly embarrassed. 

Society has these unwritten rules about invading people’s personal space, but the rules vary according to one’s geography.  Other countries, for instance, have different rules about how close you are allowed to stand to a person when carrying on a conversation.  I used to know a guy who leaned forward right into my face every time I had a conversation with him.  I found myself leaning backward while talking with him and it made me terribly uncomfortable around him, but it wasn’t really his fault that he didn’t know my “rules” of conversation engagement.

I’m afraid that we are making rules these days that keep us in fear of speaking to people we don’t know.  We fear the unknown and it keeps us from increasing our circle of friends.  Sometimes, I practice engaging people just for the sake of doing it–just to see if I can. 

I’m just nutty enough to sit here and think about Jesus sitting at a table in a restaurant when a guy comes up and mistakenly says, “Well, hello there!”  What would he do?  I imagine him taking the man by the hand and warmly greeting him right back.   Even more interesting, what if Jesus were to walk up and give the greeting?  Would he be embarrassed and walk away or would he instead just wait for the man to greet him right back?  From what I’ve read, I don’t think Jesus much cared about things like embarrassment. 

I’m all about breaking down the rules of engagement and just moving past the fear and the distrust that we have built into our lives.  Does it set us up for some risk?  Sure, but you know the saying, “Nothing ventured.  Nothing gained.”  Not a single new friend that I’ve made was someone I knew all about beforehand.  New friendships don’t come with a dossier. 

So, now, sitting here I am thinking about the ways that I can break the rules of engagement.  Could I start up a conversation in the line at the grocery store?  Could I talk to someone at a restaurant that I’ve never met?  Could I sit out on my front lawn once in a while and watch the folks in my neighborhood wander by while they walk their dogs?  There are as many ways as there are places that I go, but I have to set my mind against thoughts that tell me that people don’t want to know who I am.  I have to assume that they do want to know me, and that I am worth being known.  That means that I have some work to do on myself first.  I have to like myself enough to laugh at myself and not be embarrassed if I make a misstep. 

The rules of engagement only stay in place if we allow them to.  We can choose to live another way, and I think we should because the world is filled with some beautiful people that I have yet to know.

by Austin Thomas

Confession time. Deep, deep inside me is a secret desire. This desire motivates most of the things I do, almost every single day. It dictates who I am (or who I act like) most of the time, and it directly influences how I treat my friends and family and the people I work and live with. This desire is also responsible for most moments of unrest and uncertainty in my life, and it has wrought a lot more harm than good within my soul. Just like Jesus said it would.

Obviously, I’m talking about my life-long yearning to live in a freaking awesome castle. I’ve got it all planned out. I’ll earn money, make friends, stockpile knowledge and get a few defensive tools. Everything I buy goes in the castle. Everything I make goes in the castle. Everything I learn goes in the castle. Everything (and everyone!) I love goes in the castle. As I build up my wealth of things and people and ideas and experiences, I’ll put up some walls. And probably a moat. And my castle will be sitting on a beautiful hill. And it will definitely have those little windows that you can stick a bow-and-arrow through, to shoot at intruders. And it will have a good carriage out front. And nobody can get in except those I want to. And I’ll be able to leave whenever I want to go help people or visit my friend’s castles or do other important things, but I’ll always have a safe, comfortable, warm, beautiful place to return to at the end of the night. It will be mine, and it will be awesome.

And while castles are really, really great (I mean…come on! They’re castles! ), I wonder if they can also be really dangerous. I know that when I focus on building my castle, I’m not focused on building communities. Or churches. Or gardens. Or theaters. Or soup kitchens. I mean, on my better days I try to help build those things too, but only as much as I can without endangering the welfare of my personal castle. I have this idea that in order to help people and do what Jesus wants me to do in this world, I need to have myself squared away. I need to have my life in order before I worry about others. This is a logical way to think. It makes sense, and it’s responsible. It has led to the success of many, many great people in the past. But it can also be crippling. Because we really like comfort, and I know that when I’m worrying about myself I’m not worrying about others.

I wonder what would happen if I tried building a community instead of a castle. I would probably have less stuff, and that would probably be a pain in the butt sometimes. I would probably be more dependent on other people, and that would probably be humiliating (or at least humbling) sometimes. There’d probably be a lot more awkward moments, and there would definitely be more eye-rolls and difficulties. I would definitely not be as efficient, and I definitely wouldn’t be as comfortable. But I wouldn’t be as alone, either. I would be forced to be more intentional with my time, and energy. And I would have to try loving everybody, instead of just those I want to allow into my castle.

I guess that the kind of community Jesus is creating is one without walls. Without moats or arrow-shooting holes in the wall or locks on the door. And that kind of community is really scary to me, because some thief could just walk in the door and take what is mine. Some crazy homeless man could just come and hurt me or my loved ones. Somebody who is bigger and smarter and better looking than I am could just ride in on his white horse and stage a coup for the hearts of all my friends and loved ones and associates, leaving me in the dust with nothing. But if I really believe what Jesus says, I can’t get hung up on that stuff. Because like he says, the kind of stuff that really matters isn’t the kind you can put in a castle and protect with walls. I think my life would be a lot better if I acted like I believed that, instead of saying I believed it and continuing to build my walls and moats and castle, just in case. Lord, tear down my castle!

Austin is a brilliant student at William Jessup Bible College in Roseville, CA, and I have known him since he was born.  You can read more from him at his own blog HERE.