Proper 9C

Let me start out with a direct, even pointed question: when was the last time you invited someone to come with you to church? Or when was the last time you shared with someone else your faith, your journey, your struggles with questions about faith, or why you bring yourself to church on Sunday morning when the rest of the world tells you to stay at home, listen to NPR, read the newspaper, go to the sports game or be with your family?

I think evangelism is something that Episcopalians tend to shy away from or simply be shy about doing. I know I hesitate. I wonder how many others can honestly say they are shy about telling the simple message of God’s unfailing, always faithful love for us.

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Luke’s gospel, for the second time, directs us to be evangelists whose message is simple: ‘The kingdom of God is near.’ The first time Luke sends people out, he chooses twelve — the apostles — and gives them power and authority over all demons, to cure diseases, to preach the kingdom of God and to heal. The first go-round in Luke, Jesus tells the disciples, ‘"Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money — not even an extra tunic. Whatever house you enter, stay there, and leave from there. Wherever they do not welcome you, as you are leaving that town shake the dust off your feet as a testimony against them. ’ Off the twelve go, preaching the gospel and healing everywhere.

A chapter later, Jesus sends out seventy (or seventy-two, depending on the translation used). If we go with seventy, it represents for Israel historically and traditionally the number of nations. Seventy also represents the number of persons involved in translating the Hebrew Scriptures into Greek. Most important, it represents the seed and sanction for the continuing evangelism portrayed in Luke’s second book, the Book of Acts.

But something interesting happens in Jesus’ instructions to the seventy. He makes clear it is not the evangelist who barges in, imposing his or her message on someone unsuspecting. It is not the evangelist who holds the power, who holds the person captive. Instead, Jesus states emphatically that it is the evangelist who is a guest in someone else’s space. The evangelist is the one who is received — or not received — by the host. The evangelist is the one who listens first before proclaiming.

Notice also the utter vulnerability of the evangelist. There is nothing of the armed camp of Christendom riding roughshod over the supposed pagans. Instead, the evangelist is stripped down to the bare minimum of possessions — so stripped down that he or she has to rely on the hospitality of the very persons to whom he or she wishes to proclaim the good news of God’s love and salvation through Christ. (1)

This picture of the evangelist is a very different one than the one with which I grew up — you know, the Billy Graham sort, standing in a stadium issuing an altar call for people to come up and accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Saviour. In some ways, that picture is almost too easy.

Perhaps that is why the image that Luke offers — one of utter vulnerability and humility — appeals to me more. The fact that the evangelist is called to respect the cultural traditions and norms of the people in whose space she or he enters, the fact that the evangelist listens, and then proclaims the message of God’s grace, appeal. And buried deep down inside of Luke’s message is also one of reconciliation. This deeper message of reconciliation is perhaps harder to get at since the gospel tells the apostles they are to shake the dust from their feet if they are not received. But that is all they do. They do not shove the message down people’s throats.

Now some may criticise me for not being aggressive enough… for not going out to bring in all the lost souls. Forgive me if my approach does not seem forceful enough. Perhaps there is room for all of us. There are those of us who would rather woo people toward God, just as God woos us to know God. Bear with me as I speak of an evangelistic approach that is non-threatening, non-invasive.

What can evangelism mean?
Nothing extravagant, nothing coercive, nothing invasive.

What can evangelism mean?
Something caring, something gentle, something that will let others know the kingdom of God is near. Something that conveys the message that ‘God loves you.’

Now that’s evangelism! Not a pollyana sort — but witnessing to a deep, down abiding faith that God loves you. And the power to remind gently someone of God’s love for them, too.

A gentle evangelism is like the witness of the Salvadoran woman of whom I spoke last week: when shoved by someone on the crowded bus, she didn’t lash out with unkind words as would have been justified. Instead, she remembered her baptismal promise to be a reconciler.

Indeed, being reconcilers in this world is a powerful form of evangelism and one that I think we can do well. It certainly is part of our baptismal covenant: to carry on Christ’s reconciliation in and to the world.

I think of a sermon I heard last year at General Convention. General Convention is a wonderful and exhausting experience. It brings people together from across the political and theological spectrum. Most of us, though not all, find a way to share communion together at the daily eucharists. Nonetheless, there is always one extra eucharist I always attend and that is the one sponsored by Integrity, an organisation founded by Louie Crew initially for LGBT Episcopalians but which now includes many other supporters. Last year, the bishop of New Hampshire, Gene Robinson, preached. He talked about how he has listened to people who do and don’t support his consecration, how he has held them in prayer, how he has been the recipient of hateful words, death threats and other nasty actions. To all of us, he told us, ‘Love them anyway.’ There wasn’t a dry eye of the 1000+ people in the church.

Love them anyway, regardless of how they treat you because they are also God’s beloved children. Tell others of God’s love for them, with no conditions, no strings attached other than they are already God’s beloved… even if they have wandered far away from God or never knew God. Maybe you have been the recipient of that message, that God loves you anyway and always has. And isn’t that a form of evangelism?

Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefforts Schori wrote this week about evangelism in these terms:

Can you imagine not saying to another, “Let me introduce you to my best friend. I think you would enjoy getting to know him”? We are certainly not loath to do that when it comes to the latest movie or book or restaurant we’ve enjoyed, and unless we are leery of sharing, we will not stay silent long…. Our evangelical work has more to do with the gracious recognition of God already at work in the world about us than it does with imposing our will on others. When Jesus says “make disciples,” that has a great deal to do with inviting others into relationship with the God we know, particularly as we know God in Christ. I do not believe it has anything to do with forcible or manipulative conversion.… How might our evangelical work be different if we began with the disciple-making part (the befriending we know in Jesus) rather than counting coup in numbers of baptisms achieved? It is the latter that has given evangelism a bad name through the ages. My sense is that our evangelical work is likely to be more gracious if we focus on how our own lives exemplify the actions we claim in baptism — washing, forgiving, welcoming, demonstrating Holy Spirit, entering into communion, living as a holy one of God.

As she points out, there are other ways of evangelism besides asking people of they have been saved. Being a reconciler and gracious is one of the charisms we can offer to this world.

So which form of evangelism speaks to you?

A gentle sort of evangelism.
A vulnerable sort of evangelism.
A gracious sort of evangelism.
A reconciling sort of evangelism.

How might you embrace being an evangelist? There is no one-size-fits-all scheme here: it’s finding the voice that is most true to you and using it. That really is what being an evangelist is about. Finding your voice to be a messenger and witness to God’s endless love and compassion.

END NOTE

(1) These paragraphs are based, in part, on an article by Bill Wylie-Kellerman, ‘Singing the Lord’s Song to people and powers’ in The Witness, Vol. 75, No 1, January 1992, 8-10.

[photo: gathering of Salvadoran Anglicans with their bishop, the Most Rev'd Martín Barahona, to talk about their vocations, 21 June 2007]