This last month, part of our ministry in Busia was door-to-door ministry.
Eesh.
Right off the bat I was not terribly excited. Me and my whole generation are pretty obsessed with the idea of “relational evangelism”– get to know a person, be their friend, and the Gospel will slowly but surely eek out you; they’ll know just from the way we live that we are in love with Christ. This is the backlash from having a church that is completely obsessed with turnover rates– get ’em in the door, get ’em saved, and send ’em on their way– somewhere along the way, discipleship got lost. So then relational evangelism came along in order to remind us that this is all about relationship.
Fabulous idea, and it comes from a good place, but a lot of the time it just turns into an excuse for not having to sound like a freak.
Because let’s face it: for most people, we sound really, really foolish. We talk about having a relationship with a man who was born of a virgin, died, rose again, and then floated back into heaven 2,000 years ago. I understand that it sounds foolish to most people. So a lot of the time I confess: I can be timid when it comes to evangelism; I usually prefer construction or working with kiddos. Because you can see it in people’s eyes when they realize what we’ve come to talk about– they instantly close off and get on the defensive. Evangelism is not my favorite, especially door-to-door. I absolutely believe that the message of Christ saves lives and that the Holy Spirit is at work even when someone slams a door in my face. But I’m a people-pleaser, and I take it really, really personally when someone doesn’t like me or what I have to say.
So one night, my team was talking about it, and Jonathan goes, “But… that’s what we’re here for, to tell people about Jesus.”
Bam.
He’s right. And the message of Christ is absolutely worth looking like a fool. What was the point of leaving my wonderful family and friends behind, if not to tell others about this life-changing love? That was the whole point. But apparently I put conditions on that point– yes, I want to tell the world about Jesus, as long as I don’t have to look the least bit foolish while doing it. As long as I don’t have to actually be bold. Just give me a building to paint or some kids to play with, so that people can see through my actions that I love Jesus, without me actually having to bring it up in conversation.
That’s not good enough! How can I claim to be in love with my Savior if I’m not willing to talk about Him, if I’m not willing to look like a fool for Him. He’s worth it. 100% worth it.
This month, we got to work with several members of the church, who took us in groups to different neighborhoods so we could share the Gospel. And they were so bold. They never skipped a door, never showed any hesitation. It was obvious that they cared about telling people about Jesus. And it was so challenging for us– we had to relearn how to be bold in Jesus’ name. But in the end it was so good– we can’t go the rest of the race being timid or shy about the name of Jesus. He is our focus and our purpose– nothing else matters except for Him.
Lord, give me courage and boldness to bring Your name to the nations!
