Feb. 20 Sermon: On Evangelism
Sermon, February 20, 2011
Holy Covenant UMC
Rev. Kate Hurst Floyd
Matthew 10:5-15
Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
Evangelism changes everything.
I was in the 7th grade, a 13 year old girl eating lunch around a cafeteria table with the same group of friends I had been eating with since 2nd grade. We were in girl scouts together, spent the night at each other’s houses, ate dinner in one another’s kitchens. We passed notes in class, shared crushes on the same boys…There I was, eating lunch with my closest friends: we knew each other’s secrets, and each other’s souls. Halfway through my peanut butter sandwich, I look up and realize everybody has really serious looks on their faces, and all eyes are on me. One of my friends nods at the girl sitting next to me, who promptly reaches under the table and pulls out a bible. The girl next to her then pulls out a letter she received from her youth minister at her Baptist church. I had no idea what was happening.
The girl handed me the letter, and said: our pastors are telling us that your church accepts gay people and that we should never step foot in your doors. It’s evil. And he also says if we know anybody from this church, we need to read them the Bible and teach them that homosexuality is a sin.
This is when the girl with the Bible proceeds to read me the story of Sodom and Gomorrah.
Then, a third friend, right on cue, tells me that they have all been praying for my soul and would like to have a prayer right there in the cafeteria if I’ll repent. It was then I intercepted a note they had been passing around about the slumber party we were all to attend on Friday night that I was very much looking forward to. Turns out, they were planning to have an intervention to save me from the bowels of hell.
All of a sudden, it occurred to me that this whole scene had been choreographed and rehearsed without my knowledge, and they had been planning for days to confront me.
I didn’t go to that slumber party. By the 8th grade, I sat around the lunch table with a whole new group of friends.
Evangelism changes everything.
Their attempt at evangelism hurt like hell. I don’t remember much else from 7th grade…how to do algebra, or my science teacher’s name…but I do remember this day at the lunch table like it was yesterday. That pain in the pit of my stomach when those who were supposed to know me best looked at me with cold eyes like I was a stranger. An evil stranger who was headed to the fiery pit. And it was up to them to tell me the truth about God.
Me. The girl who was at church every time the door was open, cared genuinely about people, tried my hardest to do the right thing, and loved Jesus. Not to mention that I was the biggest goody two shoes that school had ever seen. I felt betrayed, angry, and decidedly unloved.
Fast forward 14 years, and those self-righteous kids would probably be surprised to learn that supposed path I was on towards hell actually led to a career in ministry.
Now, I read the Bible and tell other people about Jesus for a living. I have different titles: Pastor, preacher, reverend, minister. But do I dare take on the term: Evangelist?
This is the question before us this morning: Do we take on the term evangelist? In our life of faith, we carry different titles: Christian, Methodist, seeker, spiritual, church-goer, questioner.
It’s one thing to be a Christian in church, safe in the company of other folks who dare to spend their Sundays (and Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Saturdays) in church. But it is quite another to go out into the world and bring our bibles to the cafeteria tables of life. The thought of it probably makes you squirm.
But if we are followers of Jesus, we can’t ignore his call to his Disciples, and thus to us, in today’s Gospel lesson. He is calling his followers, that rag-tag, imperfect group of 12 to their mission and ministry. And I bet they would have loved to stay right by his side, to be followers in the safe company of each other, the shelter of others who believe the same crazy, good news. But Jesus doesn’t let them remain safe; instead, he sends them out. Out. OUT into the world. Saying: “As you go, proclaim the good news ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons….as you enter a house, greet it. If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it”.
Jesus is clear: Disciples, go be evangelists! Out in the wide world, tell people about the kingdom of God.
On Tuesday, I spent the day with fellow United Methodist Clergy serving in the Chicago area and our Bishop. Bishop Jung started out his talk by telling us how much he loves to travel, in part because it gives him the opportunity to sit next to strangers on the plane and tell them he is a United Methodist Bishop. He looks forward to opportunities to have a captive audience of one to share the gospel with. Turns out, he’s one of those people you try your hardest to avoid on airplanes. Then he looked out at us, a room full of pastors, and said: do you tell people on airplanes what you do for a living?
Heck no! I whispered to my colleague.
I confess that many times, outside the safe walls of the church, I’m not eager to admit I’m a pastor. To share this good news with the world.
On one level, it’s because I dread people’s reactions when they find out:
You’re a pastor?!? But you can’t be more than 16 years old.
You’re so blonde (as if God only calls brunettes)
Aren’t you just a pretty young thing, I never would have guessed.
Women can do that?
And then, people change the tone of the conversation; I can tell they start scanning what they said in hopes they haven’t cussed in front of me, their manner becomes more formal, and they stop relating to me as a regular person. (It was even worse when I was single and trying to date)
Though it’s annoying, I’m used to it, can even laugh, and it does offer fruitful conversation sometimes. But on a deeper level, I know that my real aversion comes precisely because of the loaded connotation of what it means to be a Christian. I feel like I need to add a bunch of disclaimers: Yes, I’m a pastor…BUT…I care about social justice, don’t hate gay people, I enjoy a glass of wine, I’m just a normal person….
This is one of the reasons it’s so hard for us to tell other people we’re Christian, isn’t it? Much less actually invite them into our community. There’s a steep uphill battle about what being a Christian means. It’s embarrassing to be associated with a faith that is known for exclusivity, hypocrisy, and scandal. And many people have been hurt by the church; many of us in this room have been hurt by the church. So we’re rightly careful not to impose our faith on those who are skeptical or burned. To ruin a friendship by bringing Jesus into the mix.
Evangelism changes everything.
And things are just fine, right, so why would we want to go about changing them anyway? Besides, as good, socially concerned progressives, we spread love with action, not words. When we serve with the Night Ministry, open our doors to Dignity Diner, we spread love without actually telling people about our faith. Surely they can see it. Surely.
But the thing is, when we look carefully at Matthew, we can’t ignore the fact that Jesus pairs the good works: curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing the lepers, casting out demons…with the imperative to share that good news that the kingdom of God is near. Friends, the squirm-in-your seat truth is that Jesus calls us to share our faith, in words, with others.
The word evangelism, that scary word, actually means: spreading the good news of Jesus Christ. Spreading good news. Good news.
Too often, in our culture, we associate evangelism with bad news.
7th grade, sitting in that cafeteria, girls who thought they were spreading the message of Jesus were actually spouting off a bunch of bad news: hate, exclusion, fear-based faith. But rather than turning me against God, that moment in the cafeteria actually turned me into a passionate evangelist.
It was then that I knew I wanted to spend my life sharing the good, no great, news of Jesus Christ. Because I knew from my own church community, God to be loving, joy-filled, pouring grace into the world. The bad news they told me didn’t line up with the good God I knew.
When they read me Sodom and Gomorrah, I looked back at them and told them this was a story about God despising violent gang rape, not the mutual love between two consensual adults.
When they told me I was condoning sin, I told them the story of two wonderful men from my church in a loving partnership who were faithful servants of Jesus—healing, raising the dead, pouring out grace.
And I’ve been telling these stories ever since.
Did they change their minds? Not in that moment. Sometimes, Jesus says, we need to speak the truth and then shake the dust off our feet and move on.
That moment turned me into an evangelist because I realized how the God of love had transformed my life for the better and there were so many people who needed to know that same good news. Because as painful as it was for me to be told that I was going to hell because my church welcomed gay people, I had no idea the depth of the pain of people who were told by friends, family, and their own churches that they are an abomination before God because of who they loved. Or because they were divorced. Or a woman. Or suffered from mental illness or addiction. Or believed that God was full of wrath and punishment. The mean girls are dominating the conversation about Christianity and they’re not spreading good news.
Because the good news of the gospel is one of radical transformation and boundless love. Of prophetic justice and gentle mercy. Of passionate forgiveness and wide welcome. Of overcoming death and being raised, through the power of resurrection, to abundant, eternal life.
Those girls weren’t telling this story. They weren’t evangelizing.
So we have a choice: we can either let that message of scary, fear-based, hate-filled Christianity win, or we can counter that message with what we know to be true about God’s good news. Inviting people in to this wide welcome of transformation and unconditional love. Do we let the voice of exclusion win because we’re afraid of embarrassment, or do we dare to say, to people who are hungry to be known: God is good and you are loved. Who, outside of these walls, can you share your faith with? Who might you invite to church?
Listen, I know how intimidating this can be. Our challenge from God is to give it a try. Move past our discomfort, squirming, embarrassment. And I’m not suggesting we follow rules from the evangelism 101 handbook: I’m not asking you to walk up to strangers on the street and handout pamphlets; or to talk to your seatmate on an airplane; nor to invite someone to church who has an active and vibrant faith life in another denomination or religion.
Here’s my advice: Just tell your story. It’s how Jesus communicated, through stories. With someone you know and trust who you think might be hungry for transformation. It’s not about saying: something’s wrong with you, you should come to church; you don’t have to be fully conversant in the Bible and ready for a tit for tat; you don’t have to be 100% confident in your faith, without questions. Have you seen the dead raised, the sick cured, demons cast out, lepers healed? How has God transformed your life? When has Jesus welcomed you in? Where do you experience the gift of new life? Why do you respond to love with acts of service and justice?
All you have to do is share your story, in hopes that it might connect with someone else. Say to that coworker, or friend on your softball team:
When my grandmother was dying of Alzheimer’s, my Christian community surrounded me with love. And though I’m sad, because I know about resurrection, I know she’s now with God and I find comfort.
You know, I used to feel defeated most of the time, and now I live with hope.
I’m learning how to forgive through my small group.
I was ashamed of my life because of my addiction, and through faith, community, and hard work, I know God loves me and I’m making a fresh start.
My parents disowned me for being a lesbian when I was 16, and this church helped me believe that God created me to be who I am.
I encounter grace everywhere I look. I’ve decided to go back to school and become a teacher.
I was lost, and now am found.
Because of faith, I’m changed. I’m transformed.
Jesus is asking us to tell our stories, his story, through our own lives.
The more we share God’s love, light, and life, the closer we are to the kingdom of God. Where nobody is excluded, hated, or reviled. Where love, the best news of all, wins.
Evangelism changes everything.
Thanks be to God! Amen.
Tags: Kate
March 2nd, 2011 at 3:49 pm
Thank you for your uplifting and inspiring message! I enjoy visiting your church when I am in the area! I thank God for all you are doing to share the great news of Jesus!