A lie from the pit of hell

Okay, it isn't that bad, but I needed to grab your attention!

We were due to train a group in door-knocking yesterday, then take them out, but one by one they dropped off, so we postponed the training. One lady turned up unexpectedly, so we chatted with her for a while, hearing of her enthusiasm but also her fading confidence. "We need to earn the right to witness" she explained.

I've heard this so many times before. It is borne out of people's experience apparently, but when pressed very few can remember when they last caused offence by talking about Jesus - because we just don't do it any more. So it has become a mantra which justifies our decision to conveniently avoid something we find uncomfortable.

I disagree both for pragmatic and theological reasons. Yesterday we went out for a good walk, and on our way home collected a hitch-hiker, and took him to the train station. We chatted about job, family, holiday weekends, and Jesus. Yes, Jesus. The topic slipped easily and naturally into our conversation, and as he said he had never heard an explanation of why Jesus came, died, and rose again, we told him. Then the conversation carried on, easily and naturally. He was not in the least embarrassed, offended or upset that we touched on our faith. He responded in kind, telling us what he believed and how it shaped his life. This has been our experience time and time again this year. Not once have we been told to earn the right before speaking of Jesus.

Now the theological bit. I have been uneasy for a while with a model of evangelism which relies on me - either to live such an outstanding life that people ask me questions which lead to a conversation about Jesus, or to carry out acts of selfless kindness which somehow earn me the right to share my faith. I find it hard to see this in the Bible. Indeed, my conclusion today is that Jesus earned the right when he died on the cross. He earned the right for every man, woman and child on this planet to have the good news communicated effectively in ways they can understand and respond to. And this will nearly always involve words.

I will go further, and say that Christians have no right to NOT talk about Jesus. There are numerous commands in the New Testament that we should tell others of Jesus, live in such a way as to demonstrate kingdom life, and help others do the same. I see no suggestions that we should wait for the right moment, speak only when spoken to, or ever deny another person the opportunity to hear about, experience and understand God's incredible love.

"You must earn the right to witness." Not quite a lie from the pit of hell, but...

Southland reflections part one

My Southland journey began with a non-eventful flight from Auckland to Dunedin, enlivened only by a group of  energetic slightly rowdy Maori youngsters, and I could not help pondering what great gospel ambassadors they would make.

Not everyone feels this way, but I love Dunedin. The city exudes a gentle confidence in itself, and its Christians reflect this. I am sometimes intimidated by my fellow followers of Jesus who seemingly possess an absolute assurance, radiate an effervescent spirituality and enjoy daily intimacy with the Creator and Sustainer of the universe – but Dunedin folk are not like that.

I am greeted at the airport by a good friend, a man of intense faith, whose generosity of spirit and humble servanthood prove a challenge to my complacent arrogance on every visit. He lends me his car each time, joyfully. I arrive at my home for one night to be greeted with the news that the man of the house is in hospital recovering from an operation – I had deliberately not been told beforehand. Such selfless kindness.

I spend an hour with Bishop Kelvin – my favourite bishop to chat to. He wears the purple well; and is a man who knows and loves God deeply and well but feels no need to display his holiness, a man of deep thought and gentle wisdom. In another time and place Kelvin would undoubtedly be guiding and leading a diocese into growth, but this is 2012 and Dunedin diocese has massive struggles. The diocese feels as though it doesn’t quite know how it ended up in this place – and Kelvin perhaps reflects this! It has the air of the family member who is always looked down upon and kept at a distance, though such thoughts are never expressed of course. I think it has at times been used as a political football, seen as relatively easy prey for those wishing to push through their own agenda, rather than considering the good of the Diocese, or the Kingdom of God.

 Financial meltdown and declining numbers mean that change is absolutely inevitable. Some sing “change and decay in all around I see” as if the two need to belong together, but Kelvin sees hope beyond the pain, and God beyond the decline. He reminded me of St Aidan, who wandered the highways and byways, chatting with people wherever he met them, and telling them of Jesus, until one day most of Northumbria was following the way of Jesus. That is my commission as I wander Southland for the next 8 days.

I head next to St Clair, my favourite Dunedin location – glorious beach, massive waves, wild walks. I am thrilled to see what looks like a large seal further along the beach – the first one I’ve seen this close up.  It harrumphs just a couple of feet forwards, with immense effort, then seems to collapse. It stopped breathing and died, just a few yards away from me. Beautiful and awe-inspiring moments ago, it is now a mere carcass, terrible, rotting, decomposing, though not yet visibly.

As I understand it, seals have no spirit, so that is it. Nothing more. I was instantly reminded of a funeral I attended recently, taken by a secular celebrant. We lit candles, though not as a religious act we were reassured. We prayed, finally, that Betty’s “spirit may be at peace in the next realm.” But other than that vague, hollow, empty expression of hope there was nothing. Full stop. The end. How I appreciated the wonderful sense of eternity the Christian faith offers, though Jesus who is himself the resurrection and the life.

I headed away, saddened, and as the tide continued to advance up the beach I decided to return via the pathway which overlooks the beach. I wasn’t sure where it was, or how to reach it, but I knew it was there. I clambered up the dunes, three steps up, then two sliding back down. I reached a wooded area, where tracks came and went, and at times I had to make my own, frequently having to turn back and retrace my steps, before striking out again in largely the same direction! What a superb metaphor for this Diocese. The path which rises above the current troubles is surely there, laid by God, and we know more or less where that path lies. But we are unsure just how we get there. The question then, is who will have the courage to trample and tread new paths, embracing both success and failure along the way, meeting obstacles and frustration with renewed determination to press on? For surely we cannot stay where we are, the tide is coming in, and staying here is simply not an option.

Why we do what we do

I guess there are two main reasons we do things - to prevent bad things from happening, or to make something good happen. Which motivates us may depend on whether we are optimists or pessimists.

A key aspect of T4T gatherings is Vision Casting - a reminder of why we do what we do, and of what God can do in and through us. Because I am a natural optimist, I attempt to cast vision by inspiring faith in others, telling encouraging stories, reminding them of God's promises...if we are obedient, God will do great things. But every now and again something happens that causes me to cast vision by urging people on because of what will happen if we don't obey the Great Commission.

We met Betty one day while door-knocking. She had ongoing contact with the Jehovah's Witnesses, but was always friendly on our frequent visits. She was not in the best of health, so standing was not something she could do for long, and even sitting became uncomfortable. She felt was "winding down her life", so we assured her God had a purpose for however many days she had left on earth. She allowed us to explain the Christian Gospel to her, and we spent time looking at Bible verses regarding "assurance."

Last week Betty wasn't in the three times when we called, and we found out yesterday that she was in a hospice. We tracked her down, and went to visit this afternoon, only to be told that Betty died this morning.

I am relieved that Betty heard the Gospel explained to her so she could understand and respond. Betty would not have walked into any local church, nor would me living a holy life have somehow communicated to her the fact that like all of us, she needs a Saviour, or the importance of Jesus' death and resurrection, or His readiness to embrace, welcome and save her.

Sometimes words are absolutely essential.

So who will you tell?

Name and Shame

J-P is an alcoholic. He lives with his brother, cares for his elderly Mum, and by his own admission has an empty, meaningless life. He wanders around our community asking for coins. Today we freaked him out a little bit!

Monika responded to his request for money with "hi, it's J-P isn't it?" He was stunned, shocked that someone who wasn't a law enforcement officer knew his name! He slowly recalled the day a few weeks ago when Monika had sat with him on the footpath for an hour.

The conversation quickly moved onto real issues - he had cut down on his drinking, but had no desire to give it up, explaining that he had nothing else to enjoy. He was comfortable talking about Jesus too, and welcomed our promise to pray for him. He received a hug, and apologised for asking us for money - you ask strangers, not friends.

Application? 1 - make the effort to remember people's names. God writes our names on the palm of his hand - names matter. 2. Talk about Jesus, don't decide for anyone else that they are not interested. 3. Be real, confront hard truths, speak truth into people's lives and they'll love you for it.

Chasing after people takes longer when they are moving away from you rather than towards you. Yet we continue to do it as that is the Christian thing to do.

Some of the people we have met responded warmly to our Gospel message, and to our offer to train them in telling their story and explaining the Gospel, and planting churches. Yet they have failed to be home at the arranged time, and failed to return calls or texts. So we eventually catch up with them, and they express the same enthusiasm as previously - but again are out (or hiding) when the appointed time comes - with no explanation or apology. So we try all over again.

I don't think this is biblical, or what Jesus did. Yes he welcomed people with all their sin and mess and brokenness, but he also expected them to change - "sin no more," "give back to the people you've ripped off." Jesus wholeheartedly and unreservedly embraced people as they were, but then demanded repentance, which involved a changed life, then moved on, apparently without feeling the need to offer a comprehensive support package, or repeatedly chase those who fell away. Indeed the parable of the sower suggests that this is inevitable, even when the one sowing is the Son of God himself.

Jesus of course went further - at times he made it incredibly hard for people to follow him, seemingly doing his best to put them off. The rich young guy was told to sell everything he had and give it away. Nicodemus, proud of his heritage, was told he must be "born again."

I am fearful that in constantly chasing after people we are doing little more than making ourselves feel good and ensuring unhealthy dependency. While Jesus did address crowds, he also sent out 72, and prioritised his training of the 12 disciples. He did not chase after the rebellious, but poured himself into the willing and committed. A lesson to be learnt?

Never too late

Ying Kai was the person God used to pioneer the TrainingforTrainers (T4T) model. It resulted in more than 1,700,000 people being baptized and just under 160,000 churches being planted in less than ten years! That is more than one third of the population of New Zealand!

One of the most encouraging facts about Ying that I have heard this week is that he was 53 years old when he first ventured to the mission field where he has seen such incredible growth. Turning 50 didn’t feel significant at the time, but when I see the deep darkness all around, and reflect on the vast numbers of lost people, I almost feel that it is too late for me to do much about it. Not so!

How many?

One of the questions we were encouraged to ask is at the Church Planting Movements conference is “How many of my people will hear the Gospel today?” How many people in Avondale will hear the Gospel today? In Auckland? In all of New Zealand? It is impossible to answer with any certainty, but I suspect the number would be pitiful.

Most Christians say they want to see people coming to faith – but the truth is that there are no more people in Avondale/Auckland/New Zealand who will come to faith today than will hear the Gospel. It is a simple truth, obvious even, yet how many of us actually live a lifestyle in which sharing Jesus is a daily occurrence? We don’t just share faith when we knock on doors, we do it whenever and however we can.

So how many of God’s people will hear the good news where you live today?