Are you afraid of evangelism? Does the idea of “proclaiming the good news” strike terror in your heart? Do you think that talking about Jesus was OK for St. Paul and a few other gifted souls but is definitely not for you?
If even thinking about the E-word makes you quake, you’re in good company! All our lections for today remind us that proclaiming the good news, speaking for God, and calling others to change their ways are difficult and mostly thankless tasks. Take Ezekiel. Although he was in exile, far away from the temple in Jerusalem, he had an overwhelming vision of God’s glory. Then God commissioned him to go and speak for God to the people of Israel. God also warned Ezekiel: he was likely to be rejected by the Israelites, his words unheard, “for they are a rebellious house.” Or take Jesus. He had begun his proclamation of the good news in Galilee. Like Ezekiel, he had called people to repentance. He had also commissioned followers, had calmed a storm, and had had a successful healing mission, including the healing of the daughter of Jairus the synagogue leader. Yet when Jesus returned home to Nazareth to preach in the local synagogue the home folks were scandalized. Flinging back at them an old proverb, Jesus turned his back on them. What of St. Paul? Both his letters to the Christians at Corinth rebuke them for their arrogance, their prizing of rhetorical skill, and their confidence in their spiritual superiority. In answer to their jibes, not only did Paul take refuge in Jesus, he also felt it necessary to remind them of his own spiritual credentials.
Are we afraid that, if we speak for God, if we talk about our relationship with Jesus, we too will be rejected? I still remember Brother Jed, who spewed out hell fire and brimstone on the College Green at Ohio University. Most people dismissed him as insane. Those of you who remember altar calls may fear that you will be seen as manipulative if you so much as breathe a word about Jesus. Or perhaps you fear being seen as pushy or offensive. Most of us members of mainline churches are just too nice and polite to let anyone else know that we are Jesus’ followers. Indeed, most of us would rather talk about anything else, sex, money, politics, anything but our relationship with God. Perhaps you see yourself in this story told by Michael Lindvall.1 A woman member of the Episcopal Church was a clerk in a bookstore. One morning she came to work and found a man who appeared to be a Hasidic Jew. When she asked how she could help him, he whispered, “I would like to know about Jesus.” She showed him where all the books about Jesus were. As she turned to go, he said, “No, don’t show me any more books, tell me what you believe.” “My Episcopal soul shivered,” the woman later recalled. Yet she bravely went ahead and told the man all that she could. Would you do the same, or would you stammer and turn away?
My friends, stammering and turning away are not options. Our lections also remind us that once God calls, we must respond. Ezekiel faced down opposition from religious leaders and continued cogently and persuasively to proclaim God’s word for the rest of his life. The initial twelve took up Jesus’ commission, swallowed their fears, and went out to extend Jesus’ ministry into the surrounding countryside. They followed Jesus’ instructions by going in pairs and travelling light. Knowing what had happened to Jesus at Nazareth, they were prepared for rejection. Together with their proclamation of the good news, they called people to repentance, healed the sick, and drove out the demons of resistance to Jesus’ authority. Despite the Corinthians’ arrogance, despite God’s unwillingness to heal Paul’s physical ailment – what it was we still don’t know – Paul and his companions continued to proclaim the good news to the Gentiles and found new Christian communities in Asia Minor.
Despite our fears of rejection, despite our potential embarrassment, despite our anxiety, we too are called to talk about our relationship with Jesus. Yes, we are an incarnational religion. Yes, we are called to perform concrete acts of mercy. But we are also called to talk about our faith: despite our fears and anxieties, despite our sense that “nice people” don’t talk about religion, Jesus also calls us to tell our faith story to others. And this is also true: evangelism is not about filling our pews or bringing in new members, much as we might welcome a fuller sanctuary. Evangelism is not about getting people to agree with everything that the Episcopal Church stands for, desirable, from our perspective, as that might be. Evangelism is about telling others about the God who means so much to us and about all that God had done for us. Evangelism is about love for others, love that impels us to share with others the abundant life we have received in Jesus. When we are truly sharing our own experiences of God’s love, we don’t need to worry about words. We don’t need high-flown rhetoric, sophisticated theology, or well-articulated dogma to speak about faith. All we are called to do is speak from the heart of what we ourselves have experienced of God’s love and the ways we have tried to reflect God’s love in our own lives.
Lindvall tells another story about someone who shared God’s love. Hugh Thompson2 had dropped out of college to join the army. Yet some years ago he was awarded an honorary degree by Emory University. Addressing the graduates, Thompson told them of the routine patrol he was flying in Vietnam on March 16, 1968. He just happened to fly over the village of My Lai at the time when American soldiers under the command of Lt. William Calley were massacring unarmed men, women, and children. Thompson set down his helicopter between the troops and the villagers, told the tail gunner to point the helicopter’s guns at the American soldiers, and ordered the soldiers to stop their slaughter of the villagers. Although his orders saved the lives of dozens of people, he was nearly court-martialed for his actions. It took the Army thirty years to award him the Soldier’s Medal. Standing at the microphone, Thompson began to speak of his faith. He spoke about how his parents had taught him to “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” His simple words of Christian testimony brought the previously bored and rowdy students to their feet.
Most of us will not be awarded honorary degrees, nor is it likely that a stranger will walk up to us and ask to hear about Jesus. Most of us will still be afraid of rejection or embarrassed to share our faith. Yet, didn’t we promise in baptism to “proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ?” How do we begin to tame our fears so as to fulfill our part of the Great Commission? One way, perhaps, to begin sharing our faith is to offer to pray for people. If you hear that someone is starting a new venture, moving, getting married, getting divorced, is sick, is having surgery, or has had a death in the family, for example, offer to pray for that person. If nothing else, you let that person know that you care about them, that you have faith in God, and that you are entrusting their wellbeing to a God who also cares about them. Here’s another way. Our Wednesday classes in Eastertide gave us an introduction to different forms of Christian spirituality. One of these was sharing your faith story. You might begin with someone you already know well and trust and begin talking with that person about your faith. The other person might do the same. You both might be surprised by how helpful such an exchange can be for both people. And here’s one more possibility. Every month, our parish hall is filled with our Loaves and Fishes diners. While we ask them to write down their prayer requests, might we share our faith with them in some other way? Might we hear their stories, or share our own? Might they hear that it is our love of Jesus that impels us to welcome them to St. Peter’s?
If all this sounds like a great burden, here’s the good news. Ezekiel was rejected by the Israelites. Jesus was rejected by the folks in his home town. The Corinthians thought Paul was a poor speaker, and that his message was “a stumbling-block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.” Yet, as Ezekiel persisted in his proclamation, as Jesus persisted in his ministry of healing and teaching, as the twelve cast out demons and healed the sick, as Paul continued in his ministry, we too are commanded to persist in our work of making Christ known to others. The good news is that we are not held responsible for the response of others to our ministries in Christ’s name. All God asks of us is faithfulness. With that assurance, we may witness boldly and faithfully.
1. In Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 3 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009), 216.
2. Ibid., 214. The story was told by Tom Long in Pulpit Resources 32 (January-March, 2004), 39.
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