SoCal sunset, Canon Digital Rebel XTi, 75-300mm lens
Last week I was flipping through an old, college grammar book when a 3×5 card fluttered out. I picked it up and stared at a list of unfamiliar names and phone numbers. Was this a college study group I'd joined?
I didn't recognize any of the names. Suddenly, I recognized the handwriting and it all came flooding back.
Those were the names of visitors to our campus Bible Study–names that had been assigned to me for follow-up. I was supposed to call these women and recruit them into our fundamentalist church.
I had been trained how to "take control of the conversation" and "direct" it
back to the Bible. I knew how to persuade and influence people to "get saved" and "make a commitment." I knew how to turn any conversation from small-talk to spiritual-talk. I could come up with some pretty awesome segues, too.
For example: wow, I love your shoes! Hey, did you know that in Heaven we'll walk on streets of gold?
Stuff like that.
In fact, when some International Church of Christ people tried to pull the ol' compliment bait-n-switch on me, I knew exactly what they were doing. I was like: Hey, don't pretend to be my friend just so you can re-baptize me!
Sadly, my own follow-up phone calls were never about friendship or relationship, either. They were always about something far, far grander: Saving Their Eternal Souls!
"Every soul you encounter hangs in the balance," the preachers said.
"That guy you sit next to on the plane might die tomorrow. You might be
the last Christian he sees!"
Every time I failed to preach the Gospel to strangers on the airplane, or classmates at school, I was plagued with guilt. I used to ask God to send along another Christian before that poor soul died. I didn't want to be held responsible for his damnation.
I could barely figure out the state of my own soul, let alone the state of every soul I ever happened to make eye contact with.
Once when I was going through a "rebellious stage" and decided to try and smoke (it didn't work–I hacked and gagged), some guy at the beach caught sight of me and asked for a cigarette. I gave him one.
And then I repented, threw away the pack and cried all the way home because I was sure I had sent that guy straight to Hell.
I'd given him a smoke instead of saving his soul from getting smoked.
This is not to say that verbally preaching the Gospel isn't necessary. It is. But standing on street corners yelling at people that they're sinners and going to Hell unless they repent (which is something I did), is about as effective as…well, standing on street corners yelling at people.
When I got heckled, I said I was being "persecuted for righteousness' sake." Yeah, no. I was being persecuted for my own stupidity.
The thing was, I really wanted to love the sinner and hate the sin. But for some reason, I just couldn't do it. Usually I ended up hating the sin and the sinner. I dunno, maybe some people can love and hate at the same time. I can't.
Honestly, it was easier to hate people. It was less work, for sure. If someone didn't want to ask Jesus into their hearts, well, I washed my hands of them. See, God? It's not my fault they're being stubborn!
But what if I had it all backwards?
What if "preaching the Gospel" is less about words and more about deeds? What if…it really IS about relationship?
What if it's about saving the lives of baby girls in Zambia? And knowing our children and being known by them? What if it's about discovering the spiritual lessons of life amid diapers, dirty windows and toddlers?
I wish I could go back in time and call those women from the 3×5 card. I would apologize for being such a jerk. I would make an effort to befriend them–not because I thought they'd make a "great fit" for our ministry–but because caring about someone's eternal soul starts with caring about them as a person.
"Love is the abridgment of all theology." –St. Francis de Sales
[p.s. thanks to everyone who participated in THE SATURDAY EVENING BLOG POST! your overwhelming response just blew me away. you guys rock! and a special welcome to all my new readers! ((hugs))]
