Recently on a Facebook thread I made the accusation that many evangelicals have an "ulterior motive" in many of their friendships. By relating to others simply for the reason of converting them, I believe we cheapen the gospel, salvation, and the mission of Christ. A good friend of mine has challenged me on this view recently and I would like to share an e-mail that I sent to him which attempts to explain more completely my position on evangelism. The conversation has become somewhat heated in the past, but I've tried to keep myself calm as I respond. Here is the letter:
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Thank you, {Friend}. Your letter helps clear up some things. I never mind being questioned and challenged pointedly. That is all part of being called to lead the church in pastoral ministry. I want to be perfectly clear:
1) I still believe in proclaiming the gospel with words and in trying to "convert" non-believers. I preach the gospel each week and make no apology for doing so. Just last weekend I spent my entire time with the Greenville FMY in Potosi, MO. You can ask Greg Groves if he thinks I have misrepresented the gospel after my four sermons to their group. I think I declared it loudly and clearly (an unapologetically).
2) I react negatively to Christians who seem incapable of loving people simply for the sake of loving them. Much of the evangelism I was brought up in reduced people to "projects." Salvation is diluted into a formula which says, at it's heart, "If you want to get your butt into heaven, then you need to pray this prayer" (aka "say the magic words"). My soteriology leads me to conclude that this is a far cry from the call to discipleship that Jesus gave.
3) I agree with St. Francis: "Preach the gospel at all times and, if necessary, use words." I think our post-Enlightenment, modernistic culture has overvalued propositional statements and the verbal communication of those statements almost to the point that "evangelism," when boiled down to its basic essence, is merely the insemination of knowledge. This is the ancient gnostic heresy. Instead, I believe the gospel is mysteriously communicated sometimes simply through a helping hand, a warm meal, or a smile. I am sick and tired of the church telling me to damage my relationships with other human beings by guiltily jamming doctrines down their throat when they are not yet ready for it.
4) Evangelism must always answer the question people are asking. If I were to simply tell my alcoholic friends that they must accept a list of orthodox doctrines, pray a prayer, etc., then I would not be answering the question that they are asking. They desire to know how to be free of their addiction and, according to Luke, a physical healing is also a spiritual one. It is the hyper-spiritualized gospel of modern evangelicalism which bifurcates the body from the soul -- a dichotomy that would have been foreign to the authors of the Bible.
5) I do not intend my comments to be mean-spirited, but to simply stir up a conversation about the following questions: "What is the gospel? What is salvation? Is it merely getting into heaven or does it involve individual/societal transformation in the here and now? And by what means do we spread this good news?" {Friend}, I have spent the last three years of my life trying to answer these questions. I have taken graduate courses in missiology and soteriology. I'm not making a flippant, thoughtless accusation. Instead I believe I should call the truth as I see it and I see many modern evangelistic methods as doing more harm than good.
6) I think the main question for you and I to answer is this: "What is salvation?" The answer to that question will largely determine our methods of spreading it.
7) I have never desired to be an apologist for the Democratic party and I would hate to think I could ever alienate someone from Christ because of my political views. I do, however, think that the gospel holds political implications just as John Wesley, B. T. Roberts, and many others from our tradition have maintained.
I could write so much more, but this will serve as a starter for this conversation. In short, I accuse some evangelicals of having an ulterior motive in relationship because that is what I once had in many of my relationships during high school. I think this resulted in damage to the cause of Christ. Do I want my friends to come to know Christ as their personal Lord and Savior? Of course I do! But I do not think that is accomplished by reducing people into projects. Perhaps this clears some things up.
With Love and Respect,
Greg
Monday, April 20, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Danny
Twice in the last two weeks Danny has been found sprawled out on the steps of our church. The first time I found him, I walked up and asked if I could help him with anything. It was immediately obvious to me that he was very, very intoxicated. I tried to help him to his feet, but had to catch him in my arms when he nearly fell over.
How can I describe Danny? He has a face thick with grime. He only has a few teeth remaining. When Danny speaks, he sounds almost inhuman -- more like a machine; it is deep, raspy, and broken. The only part of his body which does not display the ravages of his alcoholism are his eyes -- which remain childish and innocent. In his drunken stupor, Danny showed me his many scars and broken bones. His lower legs have the thickness of a T-ball bat.
After about 15 minutes of conversation, I finally pieced together where Danny lives. As I helped him into my car, I must admit I was concerned about the filth of his clothes and the stench of his body infecting my passenger's seat. What a stupid thing to be worried about!
In a few minutes, we were in his measly little apartment. It was a dark, musty single room with a mattress in one corner and a toilet in the other. Fast food wrappers where interspersed on the floor with empty liquor bottles. Danny instructed me to never take a bath while being drunk 'cause you could drown yourself. "Always take a shower!" he warned me through his intoxication. He constantly repeated nonsensical things like "I'm your best friend, not your worst enemy" and "I went through the windshield when I hit that man on the street... it's ironic, man, ironic!"
I don't know quite what to think about this encounter. I'm still processing what I ought to learn from Danny. For now I offer these initial thoughts:
1) I hate alcohol and what it does to people. I understand the impulse of our forefathers to advocate for prohibition (even though it failed miserably).
2) I don't really know what salvation would look like for Danny or how to get him there. I don't know how I can even start to help him in a lasting way.
3) I'm temped to judge him, but remember that but for the grace of God, I would be in the very same situation. When I look into Danny's eyes, I see myself without Christ.
4) Danny, for all of his failures, has still been created in the image of God. There is a mystical connection between Danny and Jesus Christ. I meet Jesus in Danny.
5) I'm convinced that Danny is exactly the sort of person that the Free Methodists were created to reach. We have abandoned the Dannys of this world; they need us and we need them.
I'm sure other lessons are yet to be learned from my friend. In the meantime, I pray for him and for his liberation.
How can I describe Danny? He has a face thick with grime. He only has a few teeth remaining. When Danny speaks, he sounds almost inhuman -- more like a machine; it is deep, raspy, and broken. The only part of his body which does not display the ravages of his alcoholism are his eyes -- which remain childish and innocent. In his drunken stupor, Danny showed me his many scars and broken bones. His lower legs have the thickness of a T-ball bat.
After about 15 minutes of conversation, I finally pieced together where Danny lives. As I helped him into my car, I must admit I was concerned about the filth of his clothes and the stench of his body infecting my passenger's seat. What a stupid thing to be worried about!
In a few minutes, we were in his measly little apartment. It was a dark, musty single room with a mattress in one corner and a toilet in the other. Fast food wrappers where interspersed on the floor with empty liquor bottles. Danny instructed me to never take a bath while being drunk 'cause you could drown yourself. "Always take a shower!" he warned me through his intoxication. He constantly repeated nonsensical things like "I'm your best friend, not your worst enemy" and "I went through the windshield when I hit that man on the street... it's ironic, man, ironic!"
I don't know quite what to think about this encounter. I'm still processing what I ought to learn from Danny. For now I offer these initial thoughts:
1) I hate alcohol and what it does to people. I understand the impulse of our forefathers to advocate for prohibition (even though it failed miserably).
2) I don't really know what salvation would look like for Danny or how to get him there. I don't know how I can even start to help him in a lasting way.
3) I'm temped to judge him, but remember that but for the grace of God, I would be in the very same situation. When I look into Danny's eyes, I see myself without Christ.
4) Danny, for all of his failures, has still been created in the image of God. There is a mystical connection between Danny and Jesus Christ. I meet Jesus in Danny.
5) I'm convinced that Danny is exactly the sort of person that the Free Methodists were created to reach. We have abandoned the Dannys of this world; they need us and we need them.
I'm sure other lessons are yet to be learned from my friend. In the meantime, I pray for him and for his liberation.
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