Church involvement combined with personal Christianity can be exhausting. If we're not careful, we can be pulled this way and that way, attend this and attend that, contribute this and contribute that, and be here and be there. Sometimes I get so exhausted with all of it that I lose the energy to be the effective believer that I'm called to be: I don't have the energy to minister to others toward the goal of talking about Jesus.
And, so my goal is to live a simpler 2013.
In Acts 2:43-47, Luke – the Gentile physician – writes, “A
deep sense of awe came over them (all the believers who were meeting together),
and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. And all the
believers met together constantly
and shared everything they had. They
sold their possessions and shared the
proceeds with those in need. They
worshipped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity – all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of
all the people. And each day the Lord
added to their group those who were being saved.”
In Acts 8, Saul is persecuting – murdering – Christians and
many of them have scattered. Look at verse 4: “But (despite persecution) the
believers who were scattered preached
the Good News about Jesus where they went.”
Last week, I went on a three-day trip to Washington, DC. I
went with my son, William, who was auditioning for a role in a theatre
performance there. William and I rode Amtrak from Florence to DC, primarily because
Union Station was within walking distance of both our hotel and the theatre. It
was just really easy - no rental cars or taxi rides.
It was on the train ride back to Florence that I began to
pour over Scripture and pray. “Lord, we live in such a cluttered and noisy
world, where we face all kinds of pulls and pushes – many times from within our
own families – and I get so tired sometimes that I don’t have the energy to
follow you as closely as I should.
And, the Lord led me to Acts 2 and 8 as a
reminder of how simple the community of faith should be and how focused my
involvement should be. His message to me – and to our class – was this: Slow down, keep things simple, but be bold
in proclaiming the Good News.
In 2013:
- We will certainly continue our regular meeting together, as believers, on Sunday mornings, but we are going to put additional emphasis on our women’s and men’s groups, and other small groups that perhaps some of you want to start. Sunday will be our weekly gathering, but I want to see other groups gather and meet for prayer and Bible Study.
- We will continue to share what we have with one another and with those in need, but we are going to pull this back to a smaller number of benevolent projects.
- We are going to have a push for people to open their homes – big or small, new or old, polished grass or – in my case – weeds, for the purpose of Christian hospitality and the sharing of the Lord’s Supper. I would like to take some time at Easter and see small groups gather in homes for the purpose of prayer and the Lord’s Supper.
- We will continue to enjoy the goodwill of one another through Christian fellowship, providing parties that help us connect and know one another better.
I hope you can see that our emphasis will be more on relationships than "collecting" stuff on Sunday mornings. Our goal this year is to build deeper relationships using
small groups, service endeavors and parties toward the opportunity of telling
people about Jesus. We won’t “do stuff” just for the sake of “doing stuff,” but
for the sake of sharing the gospel. We must separate from what is known as
Cultural Christianity – “feeling good about doing good, but keeping Jesus
private to themselves.”
For all those early believers did for one another, for
others and with others, the bottom line was that they gathered together and
then they scattered to preach the Good
News of Jesus. That’s what sets us apart. And, don’t tell me that you can’t
do it, because that’s a lie. God did not
call you to a private faith.
In fact, a faith story that is never or rarely shared
cheapens grace, makes a mockery of the cross, and I dare say reflects a life
that can talk about faith and church but has no eternal security whatsoever. Every
person in your family and every friend you have must know your faith story,
hearing Jesus proclaimed. People who know Jesus as their Savior will find it
impossible – absolutely impossible – to keep Him private regardless of the
personal risk to reputation and profit. To be unwilling to talk of Jesus is reflective of a life that does not really know him as Savior.
I know what you are thinking. Oh, Scott, I’m not qualified. I didn't grow up in church and no one has ever taught me how to share my faith. Or, Scott, my life is a contradiction – I love Jesus, but I like my Budweiser. Oh,
Scott, if I start talking about Jesus to my friends, they won’t invite me to
the lake; I just don’t want to be that serious. If I sit down with all my
family and tell them how I came to Jesus, it will be like passing gas in a room
with no ventilation. I'm not comfortable talking about Jesus. My faith is between me and the Lord.
Well, I’m sorry. Romans 10:9 says, “If you confess with your
mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the
dead, you will be saved.” There is no wiggle room for a private faith – a
selfish and cheap grace. We must confess it with our mouths that Jesus is our
Lord. As Jesus climbed Calvary with that old rugged cross, he never said, “I’m
doing this so it will be easy for you – so you can believe, keep me to
yourself, and never share the story of my sacrifice.”
But, understand, Sunday School,
is and should be the “school” – the education ground – for how to build
relationships, how to understand faith stories, and how to get comfortable with
talking to others about Jesus – not in uncomfortable ways, but just in seeing
opportunities, hearing the Holy Spirit, and seizing the opportunity. Sunday School
is where we believers come together to learn from Scripture, learn from one
another, and develop our own style for sharing the gospel with others. Through Sunday School, you and I develop our own styles for sharing our faith, but share our faith we must do. And, we must free ourselves from busyness in order to do it. And, sharing our faith doesn't follow a prescriptive, rote process. No, we can open the door to faith conversations by simply praying in the name of Jesus or asking, "Where is Jesus in the storm of your life?"
So, after pouring through all of this on the train ride
home, while sitting in the Amtrak’s CafĂ© Car, I returned to my seat and took
out my 890-page copy of Larry McMurtry’s western classic, Lonesome Dove, which
I am reading as part of my 25 books of 2013. William and I were sitting across
the aisle from a senior adult man – I later learned was 84. He got on the train
with us in DC, and I had helped him lift his bags to the compartment over the
seat.
As I began reading Lonesome Dove, I was startled by a sound coming from the old
man’s seat. Was that a sob? I know what it’s like to cry so hard that you sob
out loud and that’s exactly what it sounded like to me. I looked over and, yes,
he was sobbing, weeping so deeply that he could not contain the gasping sounds
coming from within.
I closed my book and took a deep breath. I focused on the Lord, and said, “Come on, Lord. Are you kidding me?" And, here’s
what I got back, “No Sunday School gathering, no church attendance, no class
party, no mission project, no money in an offering plate, no singing of a
pretty song – none of that is what you are called to do. You are called for
this moment and for all the moments just like it. You are called to step in and
love others in the name of Jesus.. All the other “church” stuff provides the education and the encouragement
for the moments just like this one – the moment to touch another life in the
name of Jesus.”
As I prayed, I heard the old man get control of his emotions. I
waited and then I leaned over and simply opened the door to conversation, “Sir,
we get off the train in Florence. If you don’t get off there, I’ll get your
luggage down for you and leave it in our seats.” He thanked me, and said he was
going to Savannah.
I told him that I had once lived in Southeast Georgia, had
been an editor of the newspaper in Statesboro, but that our corporate office
had been in Savannah. I told him my best friend from college is a Savannah
attorney, and that Vicki and I like to go to Tybee Island.
Mr. Ray McCrary told me that he had recently moved to DC to
live with one of his daughters. He was going “home” to Savannah to wrap up
things related to the move. And, then, the tears flowed. “My wife wants a
divorce – after 50 years of marriage.” He was going home to sign papers and
begin arrangements to sell their home.
I asked him about his children – other than the daughter he
was joining in DC – and he talked of their four natural children and one
adopted daughter. And, then, he took a deep breath, and cried some more. “My
daughter Debbie died last year.” He apologized for the blubbering, and then
said, “I wish I had been a better daddy; no matter how old you are, losing a
child is the most horrible thing that can happen to you.” And, I just wondered
if somehow his daughter’s death from cancer had in some way loosened the binding
ties of an already fragile marriage.
“Please keep me in your prayers,” he said. And, I held his
hand and I prayed for him right there on that Amtrak train. Once I would have
worried about what everyone else thought, but no more – the urgency of the
gospel opportunity trumps what anyone might think about me.
“You must be in the ministry,” he said. “All believers are
in the ministry,” I told him. I told him that I was in vocational ministry, and
had come to that through a career in the newspaper business. We talked about
faith and church. He regretted not having his family in church more, and he
regretted not being that faith-minded leader in his family. “We were in church
when they were little, but then we just stopped going. None of them go now. If
I had it to do over again, we would have been in church every Sunday,” he said.
And, then, we were approaching Florence.
As I stood up, he reached for my hand and said, “It’s funny
how all conversations can easily lead to faith. Thank you for helping
minister to me; thank you for reminding me that God cares about me. It’s
been a long time since I heard someone talk about Jesus.”
I want 2013 to be about spiritual growth through personal
preparedness to share the gospel. I want our class to become a catalyst for
spiritual revival in our church and in our community. I want us to build
authentic relationships with people toward the single goal of talking about
Jesus, and I want us to hold one another accountable to grow in our ability to
do it.
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