Joel D. Kline
January 16, 2005
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Second Sunday after Epiphany
There was an old preacher who once shared the three-step pattern of his sermons. First I tell the people what I’m going to say, then I say it, and then I tell them what I said. I don’t follow a set formula, but this morning I do want to begin by telling you what I’m going to talk about. This morning I invite you to consider with me the matter of evangelism, the challenge to share our faith and invite others to experience with us the joys and opportunities of life lived with God.
I need to begin with both a confession and a gnawing conviction. First is the confession, which is that the very hearing of the word evangelism can make me nervous and anxious. In reality, all of us who have made a commitment of faith are challenged to be evangelists, to live and share in such a way that others may well find our faith inviting. The Greek roots of the word evangel speak of one who carries good news, and who among us does not want to be a bearer of good news? My own anxiety related to evangelism does not stem from any sense that sharing the faith is not an important calling for us. In fact, some years ago I authored two study books, published by Brethren Press, as part of an evangelism study series designed to help persons consider more fully how we might share our faith with others.
Still the uneasiness continues. I rather suspect I’m not alone in my discomfort with talk of evangelism. For many of us, it conjures up images of browbeating or “Bible-thumping,” efforts to impose one’s beliefs and convictions upon others. In Church of the Brethren tradition, we have long emphasized that faith is something freely chosen, with no force in religion being a significant theme for us. Further, we have long emphasized the living out of our faith, flowing from the conviction that words alone are not enough. As the letter of James puts it, “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers…. Faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead” (James 1:22; 2:17).
As a result, many of us are far more comfortable with deeds of service than we are with words of invitation. Following discussion at Annual Conference several years ago about a query on evangelism, Wendy McFadden observed in a Messenger editorial, “It’s as if evangelism isn’t in the Brethren DNA,” and then she continued,
We graft on a technique here or a program there, but the branch bears fruit only temporarily. Our efforts at evangelism remind me of an introvert trying vainly to become an extrovert. I sense we’re still seeking that form of evangelism that feels tailored for us, that is a way of life more than a program, that grows out of Brethren spirituality rather than church growth techniques.
I think Wendy’s right. It’s not that we don’t consider evangelism a part of the Christian life, but we are uncomfortable with reducing it to a program or technique. Instead, it feels as if faith sharing ought to grow out of our living of the faith; it ought to be a natural result of hospitality and relationship. Our reading of Scripture leads to a linking of word and action, so we are convinced that an invitation to encounter the love of Christ involves so much more than a one-time confession of faith; it involves a continuing call to discipleship, a daily commitment to take up the cross and follow in the footsteps of Jesus.
Sometimes, I suspect, an element of our discomfort with evangelism is our fear that we will be identified with those who display the worst techniques of evangelism. I recall some years ago, when living in Fort Wayne, attending a local fall festival. At the entrance a rather sour looking man was handing out small booklets as people entered. I realized that what he was offering was a copy of the Gospel of John, but when I expressed appreciation he looked at me as if I were not worthy of his time and effort, as if I were so lost there was no hope for me. How tragic it is to take as one’s task the sharing of good news, but to do it in such a way that the message communicated is anything but good.
Or consider this. At the height of the church growth movement some years ago, I recall reading of churches that offered prizes to its members, depending upon the number of guests they brought to worship. Ten guests may earn you a set of headphones; fifty guests, a color TV. We rightly shake our heads at such gimmicks, until reading statistics that would suggest that the average member of mainline denominational churches only invites another to church once every twenty-five years or so! That means that quite a few of us never get around to inviting others.
As I began this sermon, I shared that I not only had a confession to share, but also a gnawing conviction. The conviction is that there are persons all around us eager for a fresh encounter with God, but they have come to believe that the church has little if anything to offer them. There are persons all around us yearning for a word of hope or a message of peace, but the voices they hear speaking most loudly for the church are the strident voices of the Religious Right who are far more likely to bless our nation’s war efforts than to challenge them. The Religious Right is far more prone to proclaim the gospel in ways that exclude others and keep others on the outside looking in, rather than embracing the rich diversity of human life. One of the great tragedies of our day is that many have little sense of the church as a place to receive genuine care and compassion, a place to discover a meaningful experience of community. And yet, community, servanthood, peace, compassion—are these not experiences and practices at the heart of how we Brethren understand the Christian faith?
The gnawing sense behind all this is that we Brethren need to find new and creative ways to share our faith, to make it known in the community and world around us that we are indeed a place to deepen faith, proclaim peace, embrace community, welcome others, and service our neighbor, in the compassionate spirit of Jesus. You and I do indeed have good news to offer, but in our reluctance to be identified with those who frame the faith differently, we all too often remain silent.
Seems to me this morning’s Gospel lesson offers a way to do evangelism that fits our understanding and experience of the faith. The text is set at the beginnings of the ministry of Jesus, and includes encounter between Jesus and several followers of John the Baptist who hear John say of Jesus, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” (John 1:36). “Here is the one who ushers us into God’s presence, who enables us to experience life afresh, to know the gift of forgiveness and peace, to embrace a new way of living.”
Two of John’s disciples trail Jesus, and when Jesus takes note of them, asking, “What are you looking for?” they ask a counter question, “Rabbi, where are you staying?” In effect the two are asking much more. They are in reality wondering of Jesus, “What are you about? Who are you really?” And might they be able to stay for a time in the presence of Jesus, to learn at the feet of Jesus? How does Jesus respond to their question, but by sharing simple yet inviting words, “Come and see”?
Come and see. No arm twisting. No gimmicks. No Bible thumping. No apparent pressure. Just a simple, forthright invitation—come and spend time with Jesus and with those he is calling to join with him in living and proclaiming a new way of living. Come and see—see with eyes of faith, allowing oneself to be transformed by Christ’s Spirit. Is this not what Marcus Borg had in mind when asserting in his book, Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time? “Believing in Jesus…is the movement from secondhand religion to firsthand religion, from having heard about Jesus with the hearing of the ear to being in relationship with the Spirit of Christ.” It is a matter of firsthand encounter with God, trusting that similar words spoken by God to Jesus at the time of baptism are also spoken to us, “You are my beloved daughter or son.” And once we are anchored in that kind of love, we find the strength and power to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, going the extra mile in relationships, witnessing for peace, extending arms of reconciliation, offering acts of compassion and care, serving those in need. As Henri Nouwen writes, “Only when your roots are deep can your fruits be abundant.”
Come and see. In the verses that follow this morning’s Gospel lesson, the same words come and see, are used, this time in the aftermath of Philip hearing the call of Jesus to walk with him in discipleship. Philip goes to his friend Nathanael, whose response is far from enthusiastic. Indeed, Nathanael is skeptical of Philip’s talk of Jesus, questioning, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip does not debate with Nathanael; he does not argue with Nathanael, nor does he seek to force Nathanael to believe. He simply invites Nathanael, “Come and see.” There is an arresting quality to Philip’s simple invitation, and Nathanael responds.
Though a simple invitation, it can have life-changing results. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose birthday we celebrate this weekend, spoke with some frequency during his years of ministry of putting on the “weapon of love.” Responding to those who resisted the emerging civil rights movement, King asserted, “We will counter your force with soul force, we will match your ability to hate with our ability to love.” And King reminded us that at the heart of Jesus’ life and message is the call to be peacemakers and reconcilers. Violence, said King again and again, “never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problems; it merely creates new and more complicated ones.”
We live in a world thirsty for this gospel of peace—a message at the heart of Brethren understanding of the life of faith, a message we need both to live and to share. With Martin Luther King, and with Jesus before him, we need to announce with integrity, “The old law of an eye for an eye leaves everyone blind. It is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than on love. It destroys community…Violence ends by defeating itself. It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.”
Dare we take the bold risk of proclaiming to the community around us, “Come and see. Come and see what it means to live lives rooted in Christ and Christ’s new way of living. Come and see what it means to walk in ways of peace, to thirst for justice, to live as servants, as washers of feet, rather than as those who would lord their power over others? Come and see what it means to live for the glory of God and the good of our neighbors.”
My friends, it is a high calling that stands before us, a calling to enter into the deep, to trust that the very One who calls us will strengthen and empower us for the journey. Let us respond with all of our heart and soul and strength and courage. Amen.
O God who frees us to love and to live fully, you who draw forth from us far more than we ever dreamed possible, come and touch us with your grace. Touch us with your peace, O God, that in the midst of life’s confusion and uncertainty and pain, we may know your holy purpose. Touch us with your forgiveness, O God, that we might move forward in life, seeing a new dawn in every darkness, embracing the song of hope in every silence, discovering the power of resurrection as we die to self and live as disciples of Jesus.
Thanks be to you, O God, for the gift of Jesus, who enables us to see your love more completely, and who models for us a life of faithful living. Grant to us the courage and wisdom we need to walk in the footsteps of Jesus—going the extra mile in relationships, pursuing those things that make for peace, seeing new possibilities and opportunities for living.
O God, hear us now as individually we pray for guidance and strength to put on the love and compassion of Christ our Redeemer…
Loving God, we hold before you now those in special need of your healing touch. We pray for…
Even in the midst of life’s pressing needs, Lord God, we sense your overflowing goodness. Fill us with joy and gratitude as we experience the beauty of creation, the gift of relationships, the promise of life together in our faith community, the hope of new life.
Holy God, we pray that you would grant peace to our troubled world, and particularly we pray for peace in Iraq. As we remember the life and ministry of Martin Luther King, Jr. this weekend, deepen our commitment to justice making, to the path of nonviolence, to the creation of a beloved community in which all persons are held in compassion and with dignity. Gracious God, teardown those barriers that keep us separated from one another, and grant us eyes to see as you see, so that our actions might reflect your compassion, grace and peace. These prayers we offer in the name and spirit of Christ our Lord. Amen.