The worst gospel presentation I have ever given
One of the common experiences of growing up in a Baptist church in the south was hearing preachers tell stories of their recent evangelistic conversations. The stories would generally begin with the preacher telling how he met someone in a restaurant or on a plane. The stories tended to have similar arcs. They would begin by describing the other person as someone the preacher was unlikely to run into in their daily activities. The conversation was begun with an intriguing question and eventually ended with the person praying to receive Christ as their savior. At their best, these stories were intended to encourage the church to take every opportunity to share Jesus wherever they went and with whomever they encountered. At their worst, these stories were thinly veiled boasts of spiritual greatness and had the effect of creating the feeling of inferiority and ineptitude in those listening in the pews. I genuinely believe the stories were true, yet I suspect the presentation was skewed. Skewed, in that, intended or not, the way these stories were told seemed to communicate that every conversation the preacher had ended in a successful conversion story. I doubt that was the reality for the preachers of my youth, and it has certainly not been true for me in my experience.
I do try to take every opportunity to share Jesus wherever I go and with whomever I encounter. This has indeed led to unexpected opportunities to share Jesus with strangers. And I have experienced great joy when these encounters have led to someone confessing in faith Jesus as their Lord. But the truth is that most of these encounters have not ended in a sermon illustration-worthy confession of faith but rather a rejection of my plea to come and know Jesus. What follows is the account of just such an encounter and how it has changed how I think about evangelism.
This past summer, I fell and broke my wrist while competing in a 5k obstacle course. When it happened, and I realized the severity of my injury, a wave of nausea came as the pain began to wash over me. By God's grace, I have a high pain tolerance and have historically needed minimal pain medication. However, with this injury, I discovered what ten on the pain scale truly meant and was very thankful for every dose of pain medication administered. Overwhelmed by the pain, we went to the nearest hospital, but they could not treat my injury. Because I had already received IV medication, the transfer process from one hospital to another required a ride in an ambulance. With each interaction at the initial hospital ER and then with the EMT personnel transporting me, I attempted to move the conversations toward spiritual things to find ways to share Jesus. So, once I was secure in the ambulance and we were on our way, I asked the woman taking care of me in the back of the ambulance about her faith. The conversation would not turn out to be a sermon illustration-worthy conversation. She told me she believed in and worshiped Norse gods, and as soon as she could, she moved from beside me, where we could see each other as we talked, to behind me, where I could no longer see her.
“Ma’am, all I can tell you is that the only hope is in Jesus.”
Thinking about the conversation, it was likely one of the poorest gospel presentations ever given. I was in great pain. The bumps and jerks of the ambulance added to my discomfort. And what little mental acuity the pain had not stolen, the pain medications had dulled and slowed. I was not at my best. Toward the end of our conversation, recognizing that she was not interested in continued dialogue, I offered this meager parting plea, "Ma'am, all I can tell you is that the only hope is in Jesus." She did not respond, and she remained out of my sight while we rode in silence for the rest of our trip to the hospital. It felt like a failure.
As I have reflected on this conversation, it has challenged the way I think about my personal evangelism. The cultural context that I grew up in was a culture greatly influenced by the Bible. This does not mean that everyone was a follower of Jesus, but it did mean that most had a basic understanding of the gospel. As a result, often what passed as an evangelistic encounter could not be characterized as introducing someone to Jesus but rather inviting someone to church. And even these invitations were often not to introduce someone to the gathering of the saints but to woo a wayward attender back to regular church attendance. Or, at other times, these invitations were an effort to entice an attendee to switch their allegiance from one church to another. As such, my learned default when engaging someone in a spiritual conversation was to start by asking about their church attendance.
Church attendance has always been a poor substitute for gauging the authenticity of one's spiritual life. Regular attendance can be motivated by things outside of genuine faith. And in my cultural context, it used to be that almost everyone claimed to belong to a church, whether they attended or not. But times are changing. Even in my corner of the world, where there are abundant churches in every direction, it is no longer common for people you meet to claim any church affiliation. And with the disconnect from local congregations now into its second and third generation, the general understanding of basic biblical teachings has also dissipated.
The woman who attended to me in the ambulance had likely never attended a Christian church. Thus, an invitation to attend church would likely be received no different than an invitation to attend a club or join a gym. In addition, she was a resident in what historically has been known as the Bible belt but likely knew little about the Bible other than how it is referenced and portrayed in popular culture. Thus, she was unconcerned and uninterested in how her life conformed to biblical truth. She was unprepared and uninterested in discussing Christian doctrine. She claimed to have studied various religions and made an effort to portray confidence in her personal beliefs, but it was clear she was unfamiliar with the true gospel of Jesus Christ. I do not think she is an outlier. In fact, I believe she is more representative of my community than I previously understood.
“We must change our approach from a plea to return to an introduction to know.”
You cannot invite someone back to church who has never been to church. You cannot appeal for someone to obey the Bible when they do not know what the Bible teaches. This is the new reality of evangelism in the south. We must change our approach from a plea to return to an introduction to know. No longer should we rely on cultural appreciation or common knowledge. We must actively work to introduce Jesus to a world that does not know Him.
In the second chapter of Acts, Peter introduced "this Jesus" to a crowd that thought they knew who He was and had rejected him. Peter was not making a plea for the crowd to give Jesus a second chance. Instead, he was introducing the crowd to who Jesus truly is.
The ninth chapter of Acts begins with the ominous words that Saul was "still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord." He was acting in coordination with the high priest. He was convinced that he was providing a good service by silencing the preaching and teaching of those who had believed in Jesus. He, too, thought he knew who Jesus was and had rejected Him. But as he made his way to Damascus to ferret out the believers there, he was introduced to Jesus by Jesus Himself. Dumfounded by a blinding light and confronted by the inquisition of Jesus, he pleaded to know who spoke to him. Jesus responded, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting."
Throughout the testimony recorded in the book of Acts, we see this play out repeatedly. To those who thought they knew who Jesus was, they were introduced and invited to come and know Him as He is. To those who witnessed the testimony of faithful Christians and wanted to know how they, too, could have salvation, they were introduced and invited to come and know Jesus. The cultural context of the first century was very religious. Still, the church was not built on a cultural understanding of the gospel. The church was built on knowing Jesus.
“The church was not built on a cultural understanding of the gospel. The church was built on knowing Jesus.”
"Ma'am, all I can tell you is that the only hope is in Jesus," this may not be the most eloquent gospel presentation. And it certainly is not the most thorough. But dare I say that it is sufficient? During the days before his murder, John the Baptist saw Jesus coming toward him. With great emotion and the empowerment of the Spirit of God, John shouted, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" Is this not what all those who have come to know the glory of salvation are compelled to declare to those who have yet to believe? Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! My feeble attempt to introduce my ambulance attendant to Jesus lacks the eloquence of John's words, but the spirit is the same. There is no hope in the things of this world. There is no hope in the religions of man. The only hope is in Jesus!
Declare this hope wherever you may go. Declare this hope with whomever you may be with. Declare this hope in whatever state you find yourself in. Because even in the back of a bumpy ambulance, Jesus is still the only hope.
