I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior when I was ten years old. I’m not sure that I remember why.
It was a long time ago, and I wonder what my mindset was when I was sitting in that pastor’s office. Did I love Jesus or did I want to avoid a painful eternity in Hell? Most likely, I think I saw loving Jesus as the way to avoid Hell. Through tears and prayer, I bought myself fire insurance.
I also grew up a premillenial dispensationalist, believing in the imminent rapture of Christ’s followers and the tribulation that would herald Christ’s return to Earth. Sometime between the ages of 8-12, it was not uncommon to hear that, during the Tribulation, anyone who was 'left behind' would watch their families being tortured by the forces of the antichrist in an effort to get them to renounce Christ or swear allegiance to Satan. The greatest fear of a child is the threat of losing one’s family. Salvation was a way to avoid this fate.
In the end, I’m left to wonder if my entrance into Christianity was based on love or fear, the divine lure or threat of pain. The manipulation of fear that I witnessed growing up, and continuing in parts of the Church today, paralyzed any sense of doing evangelism that I had.
I left Christianity when I was seventeen because of the hypocrisy I saw in the Church. What cemented the break was a conversation with my old preacher. I asked what the Bible had to say about interracial dating because I was considering asking someone out and I was looking for some sort of comfort from the flak I was taking at home. My parents were not absolutely against the concept but were telling me not to put on the strain or the particular set of problems that an interracial relationship can bring. I suppose was hoping that I could be offered some strength from the Word, but found condemnation. “Interracial dating is against the Bible,” I was told. I decided that what I was hearing was not the Bible, but the denomination's—or maybe just that preacher's—line. Still, that was it. I was done. In fact, when I received a scholarship at the high school baccalaureate that the church gave in honor of graduates I promptly turned it down on same day because I wanted nothing to do with that particular expression of racist Christianity, which maintained barriers between people while “there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female… in Christ Jesus (Gal. 3.28).”
Being outside of the Faith was a great gift; the perspective I gained has been nothing but beneficial to me. In the world I left, evangelism was taken to mean that one goes out to tell people about Jesus. It was from that time outside the faith that I observed that what passes for “Good News” is actually not good news; it’s often manipulation of people’s fears. Watching evangelism felt like watching someone trying to make a transaction—a profession of faith gets you into Heaven! And who wouldn’t want to go to Heaven! Eventually, if it was a hard sell, the threat of Hell would make an appearance. At that point, the Christian traded the loving God for the wrathful God, and traded Good News for ultimatums and coercion. Implicitly, it shows that the Christian is more certain about God’s wrath than God’s love.
What was worse, and I still see this weekly, is seeing something that is supposed to be evangelism, but it is actually fulfilling a need for Christians. Yelling “You are all going to Hell!” on a street corner is called evangelism by the people who are yelling, but it is actually a way for them to confirm their own image of themselves: a persecuted minority bravely standing against the wickedness of the world. Taking delight in believing atheists will deserve what they get in Hell also falls in this category; the Christian whose evangelistic efforts are rebuffed wants to feel vindicated in the afterlife—Hell will show the atheist who was right(!). Christians who publicly say they need to evangelize quickly turn around and disparage the person they seek to talk to, which shows a lack of respect for the very person—another child of God— the Christian wants to talk to.
As I got used to seeing bad evangelism, evangelism as a concept became a problem for me. I wondered about my own coming to “salvation,” I still hold disdain for the reliance on fear, and I watch Christians show utter disrespect for those we are supposed to love as we love God and as God loves us. None of this is news; non-Christians have been onto this game for a long time. Even when I re-entered the Church, I felt that I had few models of what I would consider to be healthy, natural evangelism. What’s more, I have feared that some of the embedded theologies with which I grew up would mean that I would fall into the same bad habits as those noted above if I tried to evangelize. I think quite a few others who are refugees from other denominations felt the same way. Entering the Church again was sometimes like going through spiritual triage; it takes time for wounds to heal. (It was literally last week before I could bear to call myself an evangelist in a way that resonated with my soul and not just my head.)
Eventually, I came to a broader understanding of evangelism. I needed to; evangelism is a primary responsibility of a Christian. It took a while to come to the understanding that evangelism is not about converting others, it’s about living in a way that shows how faith in Christ makes a real difference in the here-and-how. In the broader sense, evangelism is one’s expression of the Word and the sacraments using one’s life as an example.
The Episcopal Church has in recent decades relied on social witness as their primary method of evangelism. This is certainly not wrong; the Good News of Jesus was not just who He was and that believing in Him lands you in heaven, it is also about what he did as He lived. When Jesus was asked if he really was the messiah, he replied that “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor (Mt 11:5).” The Good News of the Kingdom of God is that love and justice are to hold sway in our relationships with our neighbors and our enemies. Christians need to bear witness to that reality. So we clothe the naked, sate the thirsty, feed the hungry, and comfort and visit the ill and the imprisoned. Along the way, Episcopalians continued to do the work of the Kingdom, but (so the story goes) spoke less forcefully about why we were doing it in the first place. So, part of reclaiming evangelism needs include to learning how to tie the stories of our life to the story of the Faith. Part of living an intentional life is making these connections and being open about them.
Here are some ways I make the connections.
- Because of my faith in Christ I denounce the use of torture, particularly by the American government.
- Because of my faith in Christ I do not think we should turn a blind eye to violence against women and children.
- Because of my faith in Christ I support the creation or reformation of just social systems, from education to prisons.
- Because of my faith in Christ I think men are women are equal, and the Church should reflect this equality. “Separate, but equal” doesn’t cut it.
- Because of my faith in Christ I think that God cares about the quality of our love for others and not the configuration of our genitals.
- Because of my faith in Christ, I don’t worry about Heaven or Hell. I instead worry about the hells we are so good at creating here on Earth.
- Because of my faith in Christ, I ask why there are poor people.
- Because of my faith in Christ, I recognize sin in myself and in our society and yet I believe in forgiveness and redemption.
- Because of my faith in Christ, I think we should rely on God instead of superior firepower.
- Because of my faith in Christ, I try to see Christ in everyone I meet.
These are not political beliefs that I, as a Christian, happen to hold. These beliefs flow out of my theology and understanding of who God is. Each one holds a story of a journey I have taken in my relationship with God and with other people. Humans are storied creatures. Evangelism is telling our stories to others, not for an anticipated reaction but out of a genuine desire to share the deepest parts of one’s life. Evangelism is also learning how to listen to the stories of others out of a sincere love for the person. Learning to do that takes work well worth the effort.
