There are good reasons why following and imitating Jesus can be confusing for us. In one place Jesus seems to be telling people to “Lighten up!” and in another place he tells people, “I didn’t come so you could do whatever you like.” He says the whole Law is summed up in the word love. (Sounds easy, right?) But then he turns around and uses command language when he tells us to be perfect – as perfect as God is! (Not so easy.)

It’s interesting which parts of the Bible we concentrate on. My pal Jon Owen brought this up once. He pointed out how we tend to gravitate toward imitating Jesus in those areas that relate to what we’re already doing or are interested in doing. If we are predisposed towards pursuing social justice, then those are the actions of Jesus we imitate. If we’re more inclined towards ministries of compassion, we say it’s because that’s what Jesus called us to do. If we want to teach people about the Kingdom of God, it’s because we’re imitating Jesus’ ministry.

We tend to pick and choose the parts of Jesus’ teaching and ministry – the parts of the Bible – that we resonate with.

I have another friend named Conrad Gempf, who teaches New Testament studies at the London School of Theology. Conrad is constantly warning his students against this approach of looking for Jesus to merely reaffirm what you’re already doing. In fact, he suggests, “You shouldn’t focus on those passages in the Bible that contain answers you resonate with. Instead, focus on passages that address situations that resonate with your situation.”

In other words, stop rooting around in the Bible looking for something you want to read and start looking for characters in the Bible who are in similar circumstances as you. Read what the Bible has to stay to them.

For example, we love to hear Jesus tell us to lighten up and relax a little. But there aren’t many of us who are as uptight as the Pharisees to begin with. As Conrad says, “Lighten up is already our motto.” What might be more helpful would be for us to look in the Bible for conversations – especially conversations with Jesus personally involved – where folks disagree about stuff.

After all, what we’re really talking about here is about a new way of thinking about and approaching apologetics, a conversational approach that is uniquely Christian. I figure, if we’re going to have Christian conversations, it might be worthwhile to actually look at the way Christ had conversations. Then, you know, maybe we could imitate him.

I’m a Christian. And the fact that you’re reading this blog probably means that you’re a Christian, too. In this country, more than 75 percent of people say that they are Christians too.

But when we say that, what exactly do we mean? Do we mean that we subscribe to a particular set of beliefs? Do we mean that there are places we avoid in favor or other places? Do we vote a particular way or spend our money a certain way?

Christianity, to be honest, does have a set of established core beliefs, values and behaviors – at least it does if it’s really going to be real Christianity. Tinker with the whole deity of Jesus issue or the authority of the Bible and you may have some sort of religion, but it won’t be real Christianity.

I’ve written lots about this in other books and will elaborate on this some for you later. But, above and beyond all the beliefs and all the values and all the activities, being a Christian comes down to one underlying practice: imitating Jesus. Simple, right?

Well, not so much.

Imitating Jesus is really hard to do, and lots of well-meaning folks have tried different approaches. There have been some crazy examples throughout history, like those who have actively sought their own deaths. They would look for people who were aggressively hostile toward the Christian faith and do things to bait those people into killing them. Jesus did something like that, so they figured that’s what imitating Jesus was.

But that’s not it, is it?

There are others who see how damaged and broken society has become, and they’ve chosen to retreat. They move to monastaries or Christian communes. Back in 2006 there was a group of folks encouraging Christians to move to South Carolina. That way they could elect Christian officials and pass Christian laws. They’d outlaw abortion and restrict gay rights. You’d pretty much have to be a Christian to live there. That’s one way to keep the Baptists from going door-to-door! From the sound of it, you’d think they believed they could legislate the kingdom of God into existence.

But here’s my real beef with that whole strategy of isolation and withdrawal: It doesn’t seem very much like what Jesus did at all. In fact, it seems exactly the opposite of what Jesus did. You know: that whole Incarnation thing.

Spoiling for a fight – avoiding other folks – marching in the streets – huddling up with others who believe exactly like us. Are any of these what it means to be a Christian? What does it really look like when someone imitates Jesus well? None of these things, right?

George Malcolm Stratton (1865-1957) devised an interesting experiment. He had a set of goggles that he could wear which made everything appear upside down. Imagine that for a moment (but not while you’re reading this because that might make you sick). In 1896, he wore the goggles for three consecutive days, and he learned that you could actually get used to living like that.

The experiment has been repeated many times by many people with the same results: you eventually get used to seeing things upside down. You adjust and go on with life. One guy wore the upside down goggles for eight days and figured out he could do things like pour a cup of tea, fence and ride a bike.

It’s truly amazing what you can get used to.

Jesus entered a world where people had lived with upside down goggles for so long they had forgotten what rightside up was. So, a lot of what he told them didn’t make much sense.

“Whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it” (Mark 8:35).

“Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all” (Mark 10:43-44).

“All those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (Luke 18:14).

The way up is down; the way down is up. Financial security isn’t found in hoarding but in giving. The foolish things of God are wisdom in this world’s economy and vice versa. Strength is perfected in weakness. Persecution brings status. Turning the other cheek trumps violence.

God’s kingdom looks upside down compared to this world. Heck, it looks upside-down to lots of people who claim to be citizens of God’s kingdom. That’s why God issues the same invitation to all of us: Take off the goggles this world’s value system has forced upon you. Begin living as though things have turned rightside up.

And the promise of God is that one day, God will usher in the fullness of his kingdom. In that day, everything that has been broken by the sin of this world will get fixed. Everything that’s wrong gets made right again. Everything that’s currently upside-down gets turned rightside up once and for all.

It is said that Voltaire was considered the wisest man of his age. People were always clamoring for his attention, asking for an audience with him, trying to get his opinion and advice on any number of topics. It reached a point where he could hardly keep up with the demand, so he struck upon an idea. He would limit those who could meet with him by putting a rule in place. He declared that he would meet with anyone as long as the conversation was in Latin.

For too long this has been the stance of the church in America. We will welcome anyone who will come to us, speak our language and behave properly. Until you can do that, we’re not really interested in having you around. We have practiced a strategy of isolationism – withdrawing from society and creating our own parallel subculture.

This stands in sharp contrast to what Jesus actually had in mind. In John 17, the night before Jesus died, he prayed to his Father, “My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one…. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world” (John 17:15, 18). Jesus calls us to go into the world and be a leavening force – not just an evangelistic force but also a redemptive force for culture in general. In order to do this, we must become students of the culture, harnessing what is timely to say what is timeless. We must stop making the world learn our language; we must go and learn theirs first.

That’s what it means to value the dignity of people made in the image of God. We don’t just listen to other people so we can counter their arguments. We do it because it’s fair. We don’t avoid being dismissive, hostile or belligerent because it helps our case, but because we refuse to violate another person’s dignity. Even if you don’t respect the person you’re talking to, value the image of God in that person. There’s a relationship between the worth you ascribe to God and the way you treat the people he loves. Like him, we’re supposed to love not just the people who agree with us; we’re supposed to love even those who despise us.

Christians must get involved with politics, in academics, in the stock market, in medical research, in entertainment. Christians should lead the way in every field of endeavor. Christians should be the experts, the ones who have invested the most time and energy in the best research and produced the best results. If we were living like this, no one would question the validity of the gospel’s power to transform individual lives and societies at large. They’d be too busy trying to figure out how to get some of what we’ve got.

It is a sad but true fact that some of the meanest people I have ever known have memorized a lot of Bible verses. It’s as if they believe that biblical literacy gives them license to be intolerant of others. They’re not righteous; they’re self-righteous.

Jesus was sinless, and yet he was the most approachable person who ever lived. Completely righteous in every thought, word and deed, but so likeable that hookers, IRS agents and lawyers all felt comfortable approaching him and telling him anything. Sinners liked to hang around Jesus. They don’t always like to hang around his followers. Why is that?

We use the language of a holy war a lot, acting like our primary goal is to destroy those who don’t think like we do. Our primary goal should be redeeming culture and bringing healing and salvation to hurting and confused people. Perhaps we are too quick to point the finger at our unbelieving neighbors for the troublesome times in which we live. If we are going to win the culture wars, we’re going to have to stop shooting our own wounded and stop shooting ourselves in the foot. In fact, Jesus might say we’re going to have to stop shooting period.

This war will not be won with violence – whether in word or deed, thought or action. This war will be won with love. Not hysteria. Not money. Not political power. Not rhetoric. Not volume. Love. Pure and simple.

Cal Thomas and Ed Dobson helped create the Religious Right. After several years, however, they began to be disillusioned by the abuses of power they saw. For example, they noticed a particular pattern in the approach used to raise funds. First, an enemy would be named – Democrats, liberals, abortionists, homosexuals, Hollywood or some combination of all of them. Then, the enemy would be accused of being “out to get us” by imposing their values on the rest of us. Next, the fundraising letter would assure the reader that something would be done to ensure that this enemy would not be allowed to take over the country. Finally, if you really want to make sure we’re successful, you can help by giving money.

Not only is this approach completely unbiblical (Jesus never taught his followers that the biggest problem in the world was a corrupt national government), it brings out the worst in me. It fosters the idea that “sin” is somewhere out there instead of in here – inside the church – inside my own heart. Establishing an “us-against-them” mentality encourages us to draw lines and view people on the wrong side of the line as our enemy to be excluded instead of as a victim of the enemy to be loved and pursued. It’s easy in arguments to demonize the other side, but, if you haven’t figured it out yet, following Jesus isn’t always very easy.

Whatever gave us the idea that it was supposed to be?

In fact, now that I think about it, maybe we shouldn’t be trying to win a war – not if you have to resort to violence in order to get your opponent to surrender. I just can’t see Jesus advocating that. If you really study those red-letter books, you’ll have to admit that, in a way, Jesus lost the culture wars of his day. He was in a battle with a rigid religious establishment and a corrupt, pagan empire. But he never fought against them; he just loved them. He loved them enough to tell them the truth, but he also loved them enough to give up his own comfort, his own desires, his own life.

It’s important to remember that among his last words were these: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.”

I don’t hear that prayer very often on Christian radio.

I’m not saying we should chuck our Christian principles when it comes time to elect our leaders. I just haven’t read the part of the gospels where Jesus wonders aloud who should be God’s man in the Roman Forum.

Jesus was trying to set up a kingdom, but it was such a radically different kind of kingdom that it could work in a nation like ours with a Christian heritage, or it could work in places like Kenya or China or Venezuela. Take China, for instance. The church there was under such intense persecution that it had to go “underground” for decades. During that period of time the number of Christians grew from one or two million to somewhere between 30 and 50 million. They didn’t need “God’s man” as their Chairman in order to grow and thrive.

Neither do we.

Every year, in some city in America, there is a giant hoot-nanny known as the International Christian Retail Show (ICRS to us insiders). It’s the one time each year when all the publishers of Christian books and music and the manufacturers of Christian trinkets and “art” and bric-a-brac gifty-type-things meet up with all the owners of Christian bookstores to let them know what they’ll be selling soon. It’s also a time for authors to meet with publishers and network, schmooze and suchlike.

There’s a lot of good that happens there. I mean it. There are really good books being written, and some of them even get published!

I try to go every year. I am part of that industry, after all. It’s one of the rare times I get to talk to my agent in person (he lives in Colorado, and I live in Texas). I get to see friends from all over the country. It’s fun to see if you can spot the Christian celebrities when they don’t know they’re being watched. Philip Yancey has a kind of Woody Allen shuffle when he walks. Charles Stanley travels with a positively presidential entourage. The crowds part like the Red Sea when the man in the dark, blue suit walks through the room. I once followed the sound of a piano playing a stride version of “Ain’t Misbehavin’” and was stunned to discover none other than R.C. Sproul at the keyboard.

It’s a bit surreal.

Some of my friends have accompanied me on what I’ve come to refer to as “running the gauntlet of aesthetic assault”. There’s a giant room with booths displaying all the items one might find in a Christian bookstore – some good, some bad, some ugly…very, very ugly. There’s always some old dude trying his hand at shofar blowing. There are puppets galore, Christian-themed jewelry (think pastel angels and glittering crosses) and the latest in framed calligraphic Bible verse art.

But, without a doubt, the single most disturbing thing I ever encountered at the gigantic Christian hoot-nanny known as ICRS was an action figure. Of Jesus. Riding a motorcycle. I’m not kidding. Hidden beneath his flowing robes, Jesus was wearing a t-shirt with his own face on it, the same logo of his face that was also on the gas tank of his bike. The crown of thorns was detachable, by the way (just in case you would rather see Jesus with his hair blowing in the wind along with his cape-like robe!) and not be reminded of all the blood and pain and hurting stuff.

Sigh.

Oh, and Jesus must live in Florida or some other such state where they don’t have helmet laws.

They also offered action figures of Jesus riding a bull – like at a rodeo. And there’s one of Jesus riding a skateboard and one of Jesus surfing and one of Jesus holding up a sign that reads: “Will Work for Food”.

Each of these action figures was named some variation of the same theme. The motorcycle-riding Jesus is called “I Am Freedom”. Surfing Jesus Dude is called “I Am Spirit”. Skateboarding Jesus is “I Am Youth”.

I asked the people if “Will Work for Food” Jesus was called “I Am Hungry”.

They did not laugh. They did, however, laugh at the booth across from them where there were WWJD boxer shorts hanging next to a “Jesus Saves” air freshener.

Sadly, it’s not just a few misguided crazies participating in these kinds of activities! Many of these people are my friends. Sometimes it’s the same nice people who are cooking food for the elderly and the sick. Sometimes it’s my own pastor!

Well, not my pastor. I go to a cool church where we drink coffee and wear jeans and sound cynical about Christian merchandise like this.

Where are the Handels of the Christian community now? Where are the Rembrandts? Where are the Dostoyevskys? Perhaps stuck in front of their computers sorting through the junk email you sent them.

I understand that there are Christians artists out there who are working hard to produce good work to the glory of God. But I must confess: Christian art is still the exception rather than the rule. Christian trinkets and knick-knacks are, unfortunately, still the rule. I understand that there’s a difference between the medium and the message. I think the former is killing the latter.

Sometimes Christians look foolish. And it’s not because of our belief in the virgin birth or the bodily resurrection; sometimes it’s because of our belief in things like Proctor & Gamble’s ties to the Satanic Church. It’s because we send money to television quacks who promise us that if we will just sow a seed in their ministry, sickness will not be allowed in our homes.

When ABC’s Prime Time Live did an exposé on Robert Tilton, they found prayer request letters in the trash dumpsters. When confronted with this information, Tilton responded, “I laid on top of those prayer requests so that the chemicals actually got into my bloodstream, and…I had two small strokes in my brain.”

What?!

I’m in no position to judge anyone’s salvation here. And God knows I’ve done some silly and downright foolish things. But, come on! The chemicals got into his bloodstream, and he had two small strokes while lying on top of prayer request cards? And so we should send him money? Really?

These things contribute to an overall negative image for Christians. They present obstacles and barriers for people who might otherwise actually want to investigate the claims of Christianity. Many people wonder, If I become a Christian, does that mean I have to become like them?

The impression a lot of people have is that in order to become a Christian you have to park your brain at the door. Anyone want to guess why that’s the impression they have? They didn’t make it up on their own.

We dishonor God when we fail to love him with our minds. When we forward Internet hoaxes, when we give the waitress a gospel tract instead of a tip, when we call for a boycott of the Teletubbies – we’re not helping the cause of Christ. We’re giving people a reason to think that Christians are dumb. And we dishonor our Christian friends when we see them advocating this kind of nonsense and don’t call them on it.

If we’re going to present a picture of Christianity that is winsome and attractive, we’ve got to stop being foolish. We’ve got to use our brains, do our homework and live lives of intellectual integrity. So let’s settle this issue once and for all. Let’s just resolve to stop doing things without thinking. If you are among those who forward superstitious email versions of urban legends, please stop. No more “Madelyn Murray O’Hair is trying to shut down TBN” email forwards. For crying out loud, the email never even spells her name correctly, and the poor woman’s been dead for years! Stop sending that email. Proctor & Gamble does not have ties to the satanic church, Janet Reno does not think you’re a member of a cult and no one wants to steal your kidneys.

Christians just love forwarding email. It’s almost as if we can’t help ourselves. Send us some ridiculous thing about boycotting Proctor & Gamble or about how the government is going to shut down Christian radio stations, and we’ll have sent it to everyone we know before you can say, “Snopes.com.” My personal favorite (and by “favorite” I mean “I hate this”) is when it’s something about angels protecting our troops or whatever (with the baby angel graphics hovering in the background) and then it ends with the message that if you love God, you will pray for the military and send the message to at least 10 people in the next hour (the implication being that if you don’t send it, you must not love God and we might lose the war on terror because of you).

Then there’s the whole “sick child” email and all its iterations. This has become so commonplace that there’s actually a website (www.breakthechain.org) that features a “Sick Child Hoax-O-Matic.” It’s sort of like mad-libs where you plug in a boy’s name and a body part along with several other key words. In less than a second, you can have your very own Sick Child email to send to all your friends. It’ll be entirely false, of course, but no one’s checking, right?

Unfortunately, those who view the Christian community as being naïve and undiscerning are not always off base. Sometimes we just don’t think! Like when we put catchy slogans up on our church marquees that say really trite things that we (somehow) think are clever: “God answers knee-mail,” or this summertime favorite, “You think it’s hot out here…” followed up by “The Son can prevent you from burning!” or “Our church is prayer-conditioned.”

How do you suppose that sounds to a normal person? I have never heard a single person say, “I was driving by the church building and saw your sign. I thought to myself, I do think it’s hot out here. Obviously, hell is going to be hotter than this, so I should probably go in there and give my heart to Jesus.”

Neither have I ever had a waitress tell me, “The reason I first came to church is because Christians are always the best customers I have. They never complain. They always tip generously. I love Sunday lunch because of all the non-complaining, generous-tipping Christians I get to wait on.”

As Christians, we are often our own worst enemies. The world watches as we wade through scandals, abuse, cover-up, deception, intolerance. We shoot our own wounded, we close ourselves up in enclaves. We panic and believe the worst about people. We boycott movies no one is really interested in seeing and ban books no one really wants to read, sometimes making them more popular by doing so! We get upset over tiny issues (like how many bad words were used in a particular movie) while allowing huge problems to go unaddressed (the plight of the homeless or AIDS and war in Africa). We allow ourselves to get distracted from our true mission (to be a redemptive force in our world) by chasing all these rabbits. As the old proverb goes, “If a dog chases two rabbits, he will never catch one.”

We go on television looking like hysterical Chicken Littles claiming, “The sky is falling!” Then we wonder how anyone could possibly believe the crazy teachings of the new-age movement and why our numbers are shrinking?

This part is really simple: until the church decides to get its own house in order, we will be ripe fodder for our critics, and we will dishonor the name of the One we represent on this earth.

There was another trip I took to San Francisco. This was a few years before the one I just described, and I was traveling with my pastor friend, Rick Hazelip, and my Dove-Award-winning musical producer friend, Jeff Sandstrom. We flew into the SFO, rented a car and drove across the Golden Gate Bridge to Santa Rosa.

The weather was near perfect. The scenery was more than two eyes could take in. The sights, sounds and tastes were so overwhelming we found ourselves praying on a near-continuous basis: “Thank you, God, for this!”

The one black eye on our trip, however, came early. As we were getting settled in the hotel, I went out to the rental car to retrieve my briefcase so I could check my email. On my way back into the hotel, I was hurrying to catch the elevator. An older gentleman was holding it for me. I reached into my pocket for my room key, and the keys to the rental car slipped out…slid across the floor …toward the elevator… and …(in what seemed like slow motion) down the two-inch gap between the hotel floor and the elevator… down the elevator shaft!

The older gentleman and I both watched the keys, following them with our eyes as they slid across the floor and then down the gap. It was almost as if we were hypnotized by them or stunned into disbelief that such large keys could fit into such a tiny space. After they fell and were gone from sight, he looked up at me and said, “That’s the most unluckiest thing I ever saw.”

Fitting words.

I went straight to the front desk and was told that it’s against the law for anyone other than the “elevator people” to go down there and there’s no way they’re coming out for this. I did look down the gap with a flashlight later and saw credit cards, earrings, wristwatches. Apparently, this has happened before. The “elevator people” don’t come out to look for lost items.

So, the next call was to the rental car company. They sent a locksmith who opened the car (so I could get my suitcase and rental car contract). But they could not cut a key that would start the engine. When you insert the key into the ignition, the ignition switch asks the key a question. If the key doesn’t answer correctly, you can turn on the electricity in the car (radio, air vents, windshield wipers, etc.), but you cannot make engine turn over.

This was turning into a most unluckiest thing.

The next call was back to the rental car company, which sent a tow-truck. I got to ride all the way back to the airport with the tow driver, a nice man named Mike or Joe or Stan or something like that. We talked about his troubled marriage most of the ride.

Back at the rental car company, I got to endure the “Oh-you’re-that-guy-who-lost-the-keys” routine for about 20 minutes. I got to tell the “most unluckiest thing I ever saw story” about five times. “Hey, Louise, you gotta hear this guy’s story. I never heard nothing like it before. Go on, Mr. Turner, tell her.”

Finally, on my way back to Santa Rosa, the fog had rolled in and was so thick I was across the bridge before I even knew I was on it! I met up with the guys and my sister and brother-in-law for a late dinner (especially for those of us on Eastern Standard Time). But the food we enjoyed and the conversations we had that night were so wonderful.

I learned that it’s possible to be unlucky and blessed at the same time.

One of the things I talked with the tow-truck driver about was the idea of happiness. He said his current relationship with his wife (she’s not really his wife, but they’ve been together for a long time and he refers to her as his wife) is frustrating at times. They have a good time together, but she came with baggage in the form of two failed marriages and four kids. He wonders if he’s missing out on something by staying with her. He wonders what it would be like to be with a woman who doesn’t have that kind of past or those kinds of responsibilities. He wonders what it would be like to have kids of his own. He was looking for someone to give him permission to get out.

He had talked to his dad, and his dad told him, “Just do whatever makes you happy.”

I said, “With all due respect, Stan, that’s terrible advice. I’m sure your father’s a fine man, and he means well. But you can’t just ‘do whatever makes you happy’. Life doesn’t work like that.”

Stan looked at me like I was an alien.

It was quiet, so I continued, “There’s got to be something deeper than happy. I’m not very happy right now because of the day I’ve had. Circumstances change. Someone could run a red light right now (we were on 19th Avenue by this time), and ram into your truck. You wouldn’t be happy anymore, right? Happiness allows other people too much control. Happiness isn’t internally regulated. It’s dependent upon too many other things that are out of my control.”

He was nodding his head and seemed to understand what I was saying, so I continued.

“There’s such a thing as joy, and joy doesn’t come and go based on the circumstances. Joy is often experienced ‘in spite of’ bad things that happen. A lot of times I find myself experiencing joy as a result of showing integrity. When I do what I said I was going to do – even though it got hard. When I don’t turn away from difficulties. When I keep a promise. When I tell the truth even though it would be easier to lie. Those things bring me joy – in spite of how things turn out. When I know I did the right thing I can look at myself in the mirror and know.”

By this time we were at the airport and had to say goodbye. I have no way of knowing whether my tow truck driver stayed in his “marriage” or not. But I do know that it’s possible to be unlucky and experience joy at the same time.

Evangelism is supposed to be about joy. It’s one person who has found the key to joy telling another person how it works. It’s a crying shame that people who sit next to me on airplanes feel like the most unluckiest person in all the world. It’s terrible that Christians feel anxiety over sharing the good news about Jesus.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.

There are two anchor points for the Christian life. One is the Great Commission (Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age”). The other is the Great Commandment (“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind…. Love your neighbor as yourself”).

Evangelize the lost; love people.

Here’s my theory: I think that recently – especially in the last century – we did a lot of the first part…at the expense of the second part. The way we evangelize the lost (treating them like a potential notch on our soul-winning belts) actually damages our ability to love them.

Let’s think this through, and let’s use a familiar text to do that.

Anyone who has ever been to a wedding knows Paul’s description of love in 1 Corinthians 13:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Now, you may have had a youth minister who challenged you to substitute your name in the place of “love” to see if you’re really a loving person. My challenge is to do the same thing, but instead substituting the word “evangelism” for “love” to see if the way we’re talking to lost people might be causing us to disobey the great commandment.

Let’s just start right there at the beginning, shall we? Evangelism is patient.

(I’m not sure how to spell the sound made on Family Feud when the big, red X shows up and the other family gets the chance to steal the money, but do me a favor and make that sound in your head right now.)

In our anxiety-driven, cold-calling, door-to-door, traveling salesman approach to evangelism, it’s a numbers game. There’s no time to be patient. If this one’s not interested in what I’m selling, maybe the next one will be. Knock on enough doors, and, odds are, someone’s going to respond positively.

How about this one: Evangelism is not rude.

(Go ahead and make that sound again, please.)

Someone who lacks consideration for the feelings of others is rude, and I’m afraid that’s a pretty accurate description of much of what passes for evangelism nowadays. When you stand on the street and accost someone, asking them to name the 10 Commandments, then tell them that they are a liar, an adulterer and deserve to go to hell – especially when they didn’t invite the conversation – that’s pretty rude.

Here’s another one: Evangelism is not easily angered.

(Okay, cue the sound and let the other family steal the money.)

When evangelism isn’t patient, is often rude and gets angry at the drop of a hat, let’s just admit that it doesn’t love. And anything that doesn’t love is sinful and ungodly.

So, what do we do? Shall we stop evangelizing altogether? Not only no, but…well…no.

I know that’s what a lot of us did. We saw that many of the most common methods of evangelism not only didn’t work but were completely counterproductive, pushing people further away from God and causing us to unlove the people we were supposedly trying to help. So we threw our hands in the air and waved them like we just didn’t care about evangelism anymore.

But, to ask Dr. Phil’s question, “How’s that workin’ for ya?”

Here’s how it’s working for us. Fewer and fewer people self-identify as Christians, more and more churches are closing their doors and our friends and neighbors don’t even realize they’re missing out on anything because we haven’t bothered to tell them that there is a better, more productive, more satisfying way to do this thing called life. In other words, it’s not working very well for us at all.

Rather than do nothing, maybe we should try…say…something – but something different this time. What if we tried evangelizing in a new way, mixing in some…I don’t know…humility and vulnerability and time, and actually loving people the way Jesus loves us? What might happen then?