If you are reading this paper and haven’t yet turned the page, at some time in your life you have probably signed up for a course, a day or an evening on evangelism and how to do it better. The longing to be better witnesses is in our DNA.
And if so, quite early on you may have been faced with the currently fashionable challenge: ‘What is stopping you from talking about Jesus to the next person you meet, or your best friend or worst enemy, or indeed anyone at all?’ In other words, there is something you should be doing and probably won’t be. So you start your training as a failure.
Now between you and me, I am fed up with hearing that I’m a failure! After all, I hear it from myself each morning and evening, and several times during the day. I mean, look at my family; they have all heard about Jesus from before day one, and where are they now? In most areas of life a great variety is desirable and delightful; in matters of faith, not so.
But suppose we start from an opposite angle: did you know that you are a success? No, you may not have led dozens to Christ in the past month; but what about those times when somehow you found the words to say, prompted by the Holy Spirit? It could be at some special event geared for that very purpose; or an unplanned encounter lasting a couple of minutes. Bear with me as I share some of mine.
To begin with a half-success: I was coming home from our church’s prayer meeting, got in the lift as usual, and was joined by two neighbours I had not met before. Rather unusually, one of them said to me, ‘What have you been up to, then?’ Cue for evasion, ‘I’ve been visiting friends’? No, how useless is that! Let’s jump in; ‘I’ve been praying. Some of us at church meet up to pray for one another, and for various needs on our minds or in the news’.
The lift is gliding upwards; in a few seconds our ways will part. But here comes the next surprise: not a stony silence, a scowl or some eyeball rolling, but ‘Will you pray for us?’ Here’s the part-failure. I say, ‘Yes, tell me your names’, and I write them down when I get indoors. Of course I should have said ‘Anything special?’ or better, ‘You could pray for yourselves’; or added ‘Would you like some help?’ But the lift doors are opening and we haven’t met since. Please God, there will be another time, but I can still thank him for those two neighbours and those two minutes.
For something completely different, join me on the Southampton train sliding smoothly out of Waterloo Station. Amazingly, I have the whole carriage to myself – until at the last minute a traditional Jewish family clambers in; Papa, Mama and two children. They park themselves and their luggage almost opposite me. ‘Lord, look at this!’ I hardly have to ask what to say; for once, the words come naturally after they have settled for a few minutes. By now, Papa has opened his case and taken out some old brown leather-bound books.
‘Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you something about your faith?’ Papa could hardly refuse. One small blip; I said I had been to Jerusalem; a wonderful experience. But a point of contact? No way! This family had made no such pilgrimage; ‘Israel today is all politics’, he said; ‘it has no significance until Messiah comes.’ Try another way in: ‘I am very interested in the Scriptures’, I say; ‘for example, I read the Psalms regularly, and they have become part of the Christian Bible’.
This seems to amaze him; I show him the pages in the (English) Bible I just happen to have with me. We both believe in prayer; we speak guardedly of what we have in common. But the big moment has to come. Trying not to stretch the truth, I say. ‘I wonder if you can help me. There’s something in the prophet Isaiah (which is in our Bible too!) that I would like your opinion about’. Well, I really would. It comes in chapter 53, and I read out verse five, ‘He was pierced for our transgressions…’ (and a bit more). ‘Who is the prophet talking about? Who was it who was bruised for our iniquities?’
Yes, I know I am not the first to ask that question! But his answer is the most surprising moment yet. ‘I don’t know,’ he says; I’ve never studied Isaiah’! My shock is genuine. ‘What? One of the greatest of the Hebrew prophets; never studied him?’ And he doesn’t seem specially bothered.
No, he kindly explains that he studies the Talmud, including the teaching allegedly given to Moses on the mountain alongside the Law, the Torah. For him, that takes priority over all other studies. I wonder what his wife and children were making of all this, as I realise this is the moment to take the bull by the horns, the very reason that they and I (but no-one else!) had boarded the same carriage. And I tell him, in a few words as are enough to make sense, who I think the prophet was writing about – miraculously centuries ahead of his time.
He clearly wants the discussion to come to an end, so I don’t expand on what else Christians believe about this Man. But as they alight before me, I offer a parting blessing: ‘Please don’t forget: Isaiah 53 and verse 5!’. So, another failure? After all, they didn’t all get out and ask for baptism in the nearest river! Only God knows how and where the seed of His word will grow.
If that takes a while to tell, so here are two shorter ‘failures’. I am a wedding guest and the reception is out in the sticks. Owing to a mistake about transport, I am left with no means to cover the 101 miles home. At the last minute I book a cab; must be a reason here? Twenty minutes to the station, and the very young driver turns out to be a Spurs fan. How did we get on to football? I can’t remember; but some failings can be put down to ignorance rather than malice.
Did he do many weddings? Did he know this beautiful venue? No and no. May I tell you about this one? Yes! One of the speeches told the dramatic story of the bride’s miraculous rescue as a baby – which they put down to the hand of God. What did he think of that? Did he think of God at all? There was just time for him to hear the gospel for the first time in his life, incidentally noticing the wonderful sunset that spoke of a wonderful Creator. He said he knew of a church near his home.
Different day, different game. Pamela (not her real name) and I are at the Oval. Don’t ask who is playing; but some moments are more memorable than that day’s score. Just behind us sit two middle-aged men with loud voices, who spend their time between overs in rubbishing God, the Bible and the Christian faith. Pam and I exchange glances with one unspoken thought. As the male half of our pair, I should take the lead…
I turn round. ‘Excuse me, but we couldn’t help hearing what you were saying just now’ (better than ‘What are you bellyaching about, you ignorant bigoted loudmouths?’). ‘Will you allow me to say’ – they have no choice – ‘there is another side to what you were talking about; another way of looking at the evidence’ (good to get that word in!). ‘My friend and I happen to believe the Bible and what it says about God and His Son Jesus…’ While they are still in ‘stunned’ mode I add, ‘In fact next week our church has a special event actually designed to tackle the issues you were, er, discussing…’; and with that, I hand them a couple of glossy invitation cards. And as a get-out, ‘You would be more than welcome to come along in person; if not, you can get it all online; here are the addresses you need’.
From then on the two gents become more absorbed in the runs and wickets, but soon feel the need to stretch their legs and look for different seats.
But see how many factors, totally beyond any planning of mine, worked together for yet more ‘failures’! Or are we not right to thank God for graciously granting us even such limited ‘success’ in opening doors we could never even discover, let alone open ourselves? By all means get stuck into our training; but let’s share what we have done and how we might have done even better, rather than letting the experts leave us on the ropes, or the canvas. After all (and a big ‘all’) if our labour is truly in the Lord, it can hardly be in vain (1 Cor.15:58).
