Do we need to remind ourselves of what the work of an evangelist is? An evangelist is one who shares in word, deed and sign the good news of Jesus Christ – the good news that redeems us from sin, makes us whole, and transforms us into participants in God’s Kingdom enterprise. I like the way Paul expresses the work of God in our lives – Col. 1:13-14: “God has rescued us from the power of darkness, and transferred us into the Kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins.”
That is the work of an evangelist – to make that good news known, to win a hearing for that good news, to demonstrate its power – and for the pastor who is an evangelist, to lead a congregation in allowing the Holy Spirit to create a community where that good news is a vivid reality in word, deed and sign.
I could concentrate on that – just the issue of building a congregation that is the evangelist. I gave the Denman Lectures a few years ago and my theme was “Congregational Evangelism.” In those lectures I insisted that the congregation itself must become the evangelist. We need to remember that the evangelistic activity of the early church was not limited to preaching. Everything the church was called to be and do in its worship, witness, fellowship, and service was infused and informed by evangelism.
I like Archbishop William Temple's definition of evangelism: “Evangelism is the winning of persons to acknowledge Christ as their Savior and King, so that they may give themselves to His service in the fellowship of the Church.” Nothing less is evangelism. It is a matter of the Christian community sharing the good news of a savior with those who do not know Him.
But I want to concentrate on you – you who are called to fulfill your ministry by doing the work of an evangelist. I can only outline and comment briefly on what is necessary for each one of us if we would do the work of an evangelist.
1.) Keep your calling clear.
2.) Be certain of the good news.
3.) We must be able to critique the culture in which we share that good news.
4.) We must identify with and have compassion for those with whom we would share the good news.
Let’s look at those.
First, keep your calling clear. Paul is our model here. He was moved by an irresistible compulsion. You remember his word to the Corinthians (I Cor. 9:16b) “I am compelled to preach. Woe is me if I do not preach the gospel.” That compulsion placed Paul in impressive lines of people through the centuries whom God appointed to be his mouthpiece. You remember Jeremiah – listen to him: “His word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones, I am weary of holding it in: indeed, I cannot.” (Jeremiah 20:9)
Then there was the prophet Amos. He said, “The lion has roared – who will not fear? The sovereign Lord has spoken – who can but prophesy?” (Amos 3:8)
It was of this same dynamic that Jesus was speaking: “I have a baptism to undergo, and how distressed I am until it is completed!” (Luke 12:50)
How easy it is to settle into ministry as a profession, as a job – forgetting that it is a calling, a vocation. I am challenged by that word of Mother Teresa to a young man – a member of a religious Order who came to her complaining about all the work that the Abbot of his community was demanding that he do. He felt that he was being diverted from his call. He said, “My vocation is to serve lepers – I want to give my life to serving lepers.” Mother Teresa looked at him with those sharp brown eyes and with a smile on her face she said, “Your vocation is not to serve lepers – your vocation is to love Jesus.”
If we could remember that – if we would burn with the love of Jesus – those with whom we share would hear.
I have on my desk a beautiful carving of the hands of Jesus held together in prayer. There is an inscription on the base of the carving, which says, “The hands of the carpenter, Jesus, intercedes for us.” (Hebrews 7:25)
These carved praying hands were a gift to me from Jeannine Brabon, one of our Asbury graduates who is a missionary in Medellin, Colombia. One of her primary ministries is within a prison, Bellavista, one of the worst prisons in Colombia. That prison was built to hold 1500 – the inmates now number over 5,000. It has been one of the worst prisons in Columbia, holding many of the most dangerous criminals in that country.
A book which came out recently tells the story of the ministry of Jeannine and a number of others in that prison in Medellin. It is one of the two books that have impacted my life the most during the past year. The title of it is The Lord of Bellavista.
That prison has been a hotbed of drugs, killings, suicides, and homosexual rape – the worst, most oppressive kind of existence. Inmates would have their throats slashed and laid out in the courtyard. Awful, awful unimaginable things were going on. The heads of inmates would be cut off and kicked about in the exercise yard as though these heads were soccer balls.
But something happened in that prison over the past few years. About 5% of the population has become Christian – and transformation has taken place. There is a sense in which it is presently a place of peace – (NOTE TO MAXIE – finish some details here about Bellavista from the book, The Lord of Bellavista.)
The person who carved the hands of Jesus, Jeannine's gift to me, was an inmate in that prison. His name was Carlos Velasquez. He carved the praying hands of Jesus from a cedar tree that had been struck by lightning. When you look at those praying hands on the left hand, you can see the black streak going up the hand and along the fingers – the black streak left by the lightning.
In a note to me when she sent me the gift, Jeannine said, “There is nothing struck by disaster or devastated by sin that cannot be transformed by the Master’s hands.” Then she added, “The hands that carved these praying hands once processed cocaine for one of Columbia’s big drug lords.” Praise God – with Him nothing is impossible.
Now that is a powerful story within itself – but the story goes on.
This man, Carlos Velasquez who was converted in prison has been released and is now preaching the gospel. Let me read you a portion of a letter that Jeannine wrote in which she talks about Carlos.
“On a bright Sunday I found myself “ten minutes away from hell.” But Carlos Velasquez came to make an eternal difference. Many know Carlos, an ex-prisoner, through his gifted woodcarvings. Released from prison four years ago, he has in the past year raised up a church in one of the most violent areas of Medellin. Three other churches have tried evangelizing the area, but the danger drove them away. In obedience to the call of God upon his life and with the support of his wife, Aleida, Carlos moved their family of six to dwell among the people of this barrio (suburb).
One night at four a.m., they were awakened by screams of anguish. They went to their bedroom window, only to witness the vivid drama of a 16-year-old slowly being murdered by gunfire in front of his family. With tears Aleida responded, “Oh honey, we have got to be more urgent in sharing Jesus. We have got to reach them and tell about Jesus before they die, and it’s too late.”
Carlos, amazed at this wife’s courage in the midst of evil, was strengthened to continue in the battle. Life has always been difficult for them but Carlos testifies, “Christ, the Master Craftsman, has an object of beauty of mind when He begins to chisel away in our lives. The blows in life many times do not make sense. But it is as when I pick up a block of wood and begin to chisel away. To the outsider it doesn’t look like much, but I see the final product in my hands. Even so it is with God when He allows the cutting edge of the knife in our lives. He is perfecting us in His image. I trust the Master’s work and I am safe in His hands.”
Today his 25-year-old wife, Aleida, told me that she’s really been sick. Tests reveal it is cancer. Tonight when I finally connected with Carlos, he responded with tenderness in his voice, “Jeannine, the Lord has spoken to me. This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it. We desire to be found faithful with whatever He entrusts to us.”
Don’t you feel it? Carlos is clear about his calling. He is crazily in love with Jesus.
Two, be certain of the good news. Someone has said that Jesus came preaching the gospel in order that we might have a gospel to preach. Be certain of the good news – the good news of Jesus Christ. Remember the definition I gave of evangelism a little while ago – “Evangelism is the winning of persons to acknowledge Christ as their Savior and King, so that they may give themselves to His service in the fellowship of the church.”
We who would do the work of an evangelist must have a personal experience of Jesus Christ. Friends, it just can’t happen – or, it won’t happen for long – you can’t be an evangelist without a personal experience of Jesus Christ – and without keeping that personal experience alive. Along with that personal experience of Jesus Christ you must have confidence in the gospel. I spoke earlier about how that is being challenged in our day, so I don’t need to revisit that – just let me underscore it:
1.) What you think about Christ determines what you will do about evangelism. If we don’t have confidence in the Gospel, and we are not solidly convicted about the uniqueness of Christ, it is not likely that evangelism will have much priority in our personal ministry and/or our church.
2.) What you do about evangelism will be shaped by what you think about grace. If you think that grace is limited, or that all people are automatically saved, we will not be likely to proclaim the message of grace with any urgency to all people. If, on the other hand, we realize that grace is unlimited, and that salvation can be rejected, we will share urgently and with all.
3.) What you think Jesus can do for a person will determine what you do about evangelism.
If you believe like Carlos Velasquez that Jesus can transform any life – that he can save to the uttermost – and redeem from the darkest pits of hell – if you believe that Christ can do that for persons then you will do the work of an evangelist.
There is an old story about a church in Ystad, Sweden. Back in 1716, King Charles XII of Sweden announced to that little town that he was going to come and visit them, and that he would worship in the village church. The pastor of the church got all excited about the presence of the King in his congregation. He decided that he would put aside the prescribed text for that Sunday, and he would deliver a sermon in the form of a eulogy on the greatness of the royal family. He did that.
Three months later, a gift arrived at the church, a big box. The pastor opened it. He was thrilled – it was a present from the King but he wasn’t ready for that particular present. Inside the box was a life-size crucifix, a life-like statue of Jesus on the Cross, with this instruction: “Place this on the pillar opposite the pulpit, so that the one who stands in the pulpit will always be reminded of his proper subject.”
If we would fulfill our ministry by doing the work of an evangelist we must be certain of the good news – and stay centered in our proper subject.
Three. If we would fulfill our ministry and do the work of an evangelist we must be able to critique the culture in which we share the good news.
People like George Hunter and Darrell Whitemen in our seminary are doing a lot of work on cultural anthropology these days. There is a sense in which all of us need to be cultural anthropologists – we need to know the setting in which we serve, the life of our community, who are the people that we might be able to reach. I hope you will read George Hunters two books: Reaching Secular People and The Church for the Unchurched. (NOTE TO MAXIE: Add a little bit to this point)
But it is not enough to be able to critique the culture. We must identify with and have compassion for those with whom we would share the gospel.
Discussing a person not present, another paid her a high tribute. “That woman,” he said, “is a seismograph. She can feel the shock of anything from a youngster falling off a bicycle in her street to an earthquake on the other side of the world.”
I had never heard such a description before – but I have come to believe that that is precisely what we need – seismographic people. Those who would do the work of an evangelist, especially, should be seismographic – people who know that there is not enough love in the world to go around, so they love overtime.
They know there is not enough understanding, so they withhold judgment and listen longer.
They know there is not enough kindness, so they exercise old-fashioned manners, genuinely, just so others will know they care.
They know there is not enough patience, so they wait and allow you to dump your garbage on them – if it helps.
Do you remember that word of Paul to the Corinthians: (I Cor 9:19) “Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible.”
How does that fit? To what degree can you say that – I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible?
What was Paul saying – that in order to win an alcoholic we need to join them in drinking – or to win an unfaithful person we should experience unfaithfulness. Paul was not saying that. Neither was he saying that we must become chameleon-like – taking on the coloring of the context in which we are – indeed not! He was describing his willingness to relate to people, to identify with them, to have the kind of compassion that they would have confidence in him. Instead of being alienated, they would feel accepted to the point that they would hear the Word.
The truth of the matter is it is all centered in that core doctrine of our Methodist way – grace. We must be gracious and graceful people if we would do the work of an evangelist. And we must lead our churches to being places of hospitality.
My friend Harold Bales is now district superintendent in North Carolina. At one time he was the pastor of First United Methodist Church in Charlotte. That old church that had been huge in its membership and powerful in its witness for many, many years, found itself in a changing neighborhood. All of a sudden they had poor people living all around them – alternative lifestyles – a number of different subcultures.
Harold tried to lead the church to minister in that setting – especially reaching out to the poor. You can imagine – because some of you have been there – the kind of controversy that resulted.
One day Harold was going into the church when he met a very respectable woman in the congregation – a wealthy woman, “a pillar in the church” -- having been a member all her life with parents and grandparents who had been a part of that congregation. She could hardly walk through the hallway because of all the poor people who had come to get a meal.
With a degree of anxiety and some judgment in her voice she said, “Dr. Bales, what on earth are you doing in the midst of all of this?”
His response was, “I am trying to save people from hell..”
She responded, “Well then, that is all right – we do need to save people like this.”
He said, “That’s not the way it is. I am not trying to save them. I am trying to save us.”
We talked a little while ago about knowing the setting in which you do ministry. We need to keep asking ourselves as individual pastors – and we need to lead our congregations in asking:
1.) Do we really want to know these people who are all around us?
2.) Do we want them in our church?
3.) Are we willing for our church to become their church?
4.) Are we willing to go where they go and engage them on their turf?
5.) Are we willing to spend time with them – are we willing to identify with them and show genuine compassion?
I mentioned earlier that one of the two books that has impacted my life the most during the past year has been The Lord of Bellavista. The second book is Fresh Wind, Fresh Spirit – a book by Jim Cymbala – the pastor of Brooklyn Tabernacle in New York City. That book is the story of the church. I worshipped there on a Sunday morning a couple of months ago. It was as dynamic as I was lead to believe it was by reading the book.
Let me read you one of the stories.
“I shall never forget Easter Sunday 1992 – the day that Roberta Langella gave her dramatic testimony, as I recounted in chapter 3. A homeless man was standing in the back of the church, listening intently. At the end of the evening meeting I sat down on the edge of the platform, exhausted, as others continued to pray with those who had responded to Christ. The organist was playing quietly. I wanted to relax. I was just starting to unwind when I looked up to see this man, with shabby clothing and matted hair, standing in the center aisle about four rows back and waiting for permission to approach me. I nodded and gave him a weak little wave of my hand. Look at how this Easter Sunday is going to end, I thought to myself. He’s going to hit me up for money. That happens often in this church. I’m so tired…
When he came close I saw that his two front teeth were missing. But more striking was his odor – the mixture of alcohol, sweat, urine, and garbage took my breath away. I have been around many street people, but this was the strongest stench I have ever encountered. I instinctively had to turn my head sideways to inhale, then look back in this direction while breathing out.
I asked his name.
“David,” he said softly.
“How long have you been homeless, David?”
“Six years.”
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“In an abandoned truck.”
I had heard enough and wanted to get this over quickly.
I reached for the money clip in my back pocket.
At that moment David put his finger in front of my face and said, “No, you don’t understand – I don’t want your money. I’m going to die out there. I want the Jesus that red-haired girl talked about.”
I hesitated, then closed my eyes. God, forgive me, I begged. I felt soiled and cheap. Me, a minister of the Gospel… I had wanted simply to get rid of him, when he was crying out for the help of Christ I had just preached about.
I swallowed hard as God’s love flooded my soul.
David sensed the change in me. He moved toward me and fell on my chest, burying his grimy head against my white shirt and tie. Holding him close, I talked to him about Jesus’ love. These weren’t just words; I felt them. I felt love for this pitiful young man. And that smell … I don’t know how to explain it. It had almost made me sick, but now it became the most beautiful fragrance to me. I reveled in what had been repulsive just a moment ago.
The Lord seemed to say to me in that instant, “Jim, if you and your wife have any value to me, if you have any purpose in my work – it has to do with this odor: This is the smell of the world I died for.”
David surrendered to the Christ he heard about that night. We got him into a hospital detoxification unit for a week. We got his teeth fixed. He joined the Prayer Band right way. He spent the next Thanksgiving Day in our home. We invited him back for Christmas as well.
I will never forget his present to me. Inside a little box was…one handkerchief. It was all he could afford. Today David heads up the maintenance department at the church, overseeing ten other employees. He is now married and a father. God is opening more and more doors for him to go out and give his testimony. When he speaks, his words have a weight and an impact that many ordained ministers would covet.
As Christians reach out to touch everyone, including the unlovely who are now everywhere in our society, God touches them, too – and revolutionizes their lives. Otherwise we would just be circling the wagons, busying ourselves with Bible studies among our own kind. There is no demonstration of God’s power because we have closed ourselves off from the need for such demonstration. (Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire, Jim Cymbala with Dean Merrill, Zondervan Publishing House, 1997, pp. 141-143)