stopover.ca

A couple of years ago, I was in Safeway shopping for some whipped cream. As I took my time peering through the dairy case, a man stopped and casually asked. ‘So how do you decide which one to buy anyways?’

I looked over, sized him up, and was soon pleasantly in conversation regarding the various merits of high fat content vs. hydrogenated oils. Frankly I enjoyed the interaction, it seems all too seldom that strangers in the city will pause to even look at someone else, let alone strike up conversation. Over the few moments, we chatted over food and health, and then he asked me a simple question.

So, you are interested in health, hey?

You know the pulse of recognition that happens as you first realise that what you thought was happening was not truly the case. The moment when you see reality. I felt it. I immediately and cautiously answered that yes … I was interested in health. He went to the point.

‘Well I represent a great line of products that I think that you will be interested in…’

As quickly and graciously as possible, I let him know that I was not interested. I left, with that slightly winded feeling. In an instant, the relationship shifted from one of genuine interest – however brief and casual; to his simple search for common ground, solely in order to entice me with a product.

Granted, I do not have a high tolerance for salesmanship. Only today, I was interrupted from this brilliant musing to answer another doorbell from the same ring of carpet shampoo hucksters. I was rude and shooed him away without even bothering to answer the door. True, my natural suspicion clouds my perception, after all, he may have had the wonder-cure that was guaranteed to change my life.

Back to the point – the day following my grocery store encounter, I shared the story with a friend. He was intrigued; he had planned to teach a session on what evangelism should look like in the church over the next week, so he asked me to share my story with the group. I did so. I continued by revealing how I have wrestled with this apparent application. The violation I felt, in the approach from the man in Safeway, was as violating an approach as I have sometimes taught others to do in the past.

For years, as I trained missions teams, I would incorporate a session on the FRED principle of evangelisation. I also preached the steps in church at least on one occasion. The method followed a simple acronym, the letters of the name referred to four key words. Favour, Relationship, Evangelism and Discipleship. First develop favour, find like interests with others. Next allow that favour to build to relationship, here you are able to share lives and thoughts. Eventually give them evangelism, let them know that you have some answers to their questions. Finally after the sinners prayer … teach them the ways of the church – Discipleship.

Some of you reading this may nod vigorous approval, others are aghast – most lie somewhere in between. In reflection, I find that the method attempted to process people into relationship with God. A casual deceit.

Deception is a strong word. Even as I type these thoughts, I feel a little queasy. I pride myself on my integrity – pride perhaps the operative word. Right here is where I feel like justifying myself, pulling some protection over this raw revelation of my own dishonesty.
I want to make sure that it is written that I worked with the best of intentions; I meant the best for others.

The temptation is this; the work of God only needs to be parsed down into the simple instructions of God. The Bible becomes God’s lil’ instruction book. The ‘R’ rating of the story – the blood, sex and violence – the essential humanity, disappears into a mush of pleasant moments, and 3 quick steps to (insert your favourite spiritual lesson here). The wide-swept themes, falter when merely presented as keys to a happy life.

It is a real conundrum, the more I reflect on the nature of God – the more I am inspired. Inspired by a noble goal, I hesitate in action in order to discover the method. My clinical mind searches for the steps to success, the subtle temptation to ignore the relationship.

Yet, if I am ruthless with myself, brutally so, then I must admit that although I may have been deceived into following method rather than a master, it was not completely innocently. I may have been naïve, but I am responsible for that naivety. However small the ping of doubt was that I ignored, I still ignored it in my greater desire to find a simplified working method. Method is appealing, it is always easier to rest in a concrete theology than with living God. I can master a theology or method; I cannot master God, he means to master me.

Although there is a temptation to method, it truly is my responsibility to reveal truth, to reveal Christ. As I do this in my woefully inadequate way, I constantly fail. Yet, as I admit that failure, stand in my weakness, He makes me strong. Simply the backward nature of the gospel – the last are first. A mystery, that frankly can never make sense to those who stand outside and opposed, and yet will move mountains for those who recognising their faults, still dare to participate.

Here I pause in writing these words, as I think of my audience. I assume that most of the time, as I write things relating to missions, ministry, faith and evangelism that most of my audience is the already convinced – part of the club. Those who would refer to themselves as Christian, even perhaps ‘born again’ or ‘evangelical’. Yet I am also very aware that I send this out to those who may not relate themselves into this grouping, they may be curious, or dispassionate observers, some are bored with these thoughts. They may even be people who believe in the love and teaching of Jesus, but do not want to associate themselves with the often bitter realities of systemic Christianity. As I think of this audience – people legitimately suspicious of manipulation and easy answers that do not begin to touch the reality of their lives – I felt the temptation to simply hide this evangelism strategy. As I look at these words in the harsh light of computer monitor, I hold a revulsion to giving more ammunition to those who have been seared by the manipulation of those who say they represent Christ and his church.

What I feel – ever deeper as I type these thoughts – is that my spoken desire to protect the nature of God, is perhaps warped by my true desire to protect my own reputation, after all I fully belong to the group that has made these incredible mistakes. I have often even led the charge forward. I need to truly realise that this protection of God is not my responsibility; it may even be a form of blasphemy in a very true sense of the word – Sweet religious language to hide godlessness .

When it comes to evangelism strategies, the simple fact that we would like to hide this ‘method of evangelism’ from others outside our group reveals its soft belly. Truth must out. Real truth must be freed from our shackles of perception, and personal religious preference. Truth lives and walks, albeit painfully at times.

An ulterior motive is always that, ulterior. Underhanded. Dishonest. Unreal. Ungodly. It holds the form of godliness and none of the power.

The gospel message is subtly yet mountainously different. True favour can only develop with people whom we like. Honest relationship is for those with whom I love to be with as friends and companions. No underhanded and unravelled truth. Jesus said it best, as he usually does, “I no longer call you servants because a master doesn’t confide in his servants. Now you are my friends, since I have told you everything the Father told me.” John 15:15
1. M Scott Peck