Checkout Line Evangelism

During Bible study this morning our little group discussed the efforts of the early church as narrated by the book of Acts. We also read Hebrews 12 verses 1 through 3: "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God." The question was asked (if I remember correctly) "what was the joy set before Jesus?", responses to which included the love of God and more to the point, the Resurrection. In thinking more about the message of the verses -- the race to run, and disregarding the shame of the cross -- my mind went to thoughts of being a Christian in the world outside the church walls.


"The shame of the cross" -- Jesus as "a model of endurance in the face of hostility" (according to the notes in my Bible) should "encourage the reader in their plight" to run the race, live life as Christians despite the hindrance of sin. And also, I expect, the other challenges of living that way -- everything from the raw negativity that the world throws up at one quite often, to the delicate nature of personal relationships with people who simply want to live their lives differently from you.

I don't get many opportunities to be the church outside of the immediately personal sphere and church itself, because church is also my job. "The shame of the cross" probably meant something else in context; but it made me think of fear of rejection, fear of disconnect between myself and people I care about, when the subject of faith comes up. I am friends with many more non-religious people than otherwise, and I used to be one of them, so finding the boundaries and the space to talk about faith in those relationships can be challenging. It was suggested during the conversation at Bible study that too much evangelizing in one's personal life can actually be abusive, and while there are undoubtedly extremes there that I haven't approached, it's still alarming to think I've abused anyone with my desire to communicate "the good news." I mean, it's not enough to be afraid of opening my mouth, I also have to watch out that I don't knock anyone down before I shut myself up. Yeah, that's important too.

Cathie expresses her own thoughts on all this with admirable clarity, and seems to have the right idea -- just do your thing, and let people respond to you as the Christian they see in you. I know that the "living out," the "walking the talk" is the most important proof of your good news for most people.

Two people have asked me, in the past week, if I had a college education. The first was a woman in the check-out line at Lunds, who at first glance looked young and stylish and quite sane; but as she went on, I found out that she doesn't like people who don't go to college, particularly older people who never went (though it wasn't clear why); and that she's "the type of woman who would date my son" (age four, standing next to me holding my hand.) I nodded politely as she left. The second person was someone I know from church, who went on to compliment me on my public speaking skills and administrative abilities. Generous compliments, but they also made me stop and think specifically about speaking out -- in fact, I didn't learn this in college. I didn't learn it anywhere. I can, and often enough I do, when I'm feeling so inspired. Lately I'm thinking I need to shut up and be less visible. Was the lady in the checkout line a missed opportunity to be a better Christian, or was it enough just to listen and nod attentively? Is speaking out on social justice issues or blogging on matters of faith sufficient unto evangelism, or is there more expected of me? I don't wear a cross all the time -- what constitutes "telling the story?" I know it's about living out the love of God -- I just don't want to be the one in the checkout line getting the polite nod from my neighbor, when I gracelessly throw in a comment about my new boyfriend Jesus.

Secret Christians - or the secret handshake?

Going to church (voluntarily) is pretty new to me - or, newer than most stuff in my life. Newer than my job. Newer than my newest dog. Newer than my car. I went to church as a teenager until I was confirmed only because my mother made me. This is the woman who would drop off my older brother and I, and pick us up after church and Sunday School. Hurmph.

I have lots of doubts and questions about God and Jesus and being Lutheran, and I have a plain old stubborn streak that makes me wrinkle my nose and roll my eyes about all things "church."

Nevertheless, this church-going, cross wearing thing has been just a little bit like learning a secret handshake. I know we say, "Love. Serve. Tell." at NECL. I'm all about the lovin' and the servin'. I could love and serve until the cows come home, (and then leave again). The "Tell" part makes me feel like those awful dreams where you've ended up somewhere absolutely naked, or (my personal favorite), it's the end of the Semester, and I have to take a final for a class that I never attended.

Consequently, the only place I'm likely to do much Tellin' is in another arena of my life - which is dog rescue. One of my most common refrains is that the love of a dog is the closest thing to the love of God that any of us is likely to experience on this side of Heaven. (I can evangelize about DOGS a LOT.) This tiny little statement, and the itty bitty cross I wear around my neck, have suddenly opened up a whole lot of hearts that I probably wouldn't have known before. People ask me to pray for them, or their dogs. People tell me about how they have prayed about adopting a dog. People send me their blessings, and call me an "angel" and a "saint." (I'm not letting it go to my head.... I don't think.)

I'm pretty sure that I haven't been sucked into an alternative reality inspired by televangelism - it's just that now people feel comfortable sharing this with me. They feel closer to me. They can identify something that they relate to besides just the dog. And it makes me wonder about the years between high school and when I started going to St. Paul's, and about how I missed out on this side of people. This very sweet, and well-meaning, and hardly-ever sanctimonious part of people. I'm pretty sure that it's not that I'm just suddenly meeting more Christians - I think it's just that now people tell me about it.

So - what does that mean? And isn't it interesting and hopeful that one little sentence and one tiny cross make people feel comfortable enough to share this part of their hearts with me?

It's very late - but I hope to hear what some of you might have to say about this.