Saturday, April 8, 2017

Post 33-Evangelism, Counter-culture, and the Tent


Event Tent


Dana emailed on Mon, Apr 3, 2017 at 4:21 PM

Hi John,

     Last week’s Blog got me thinking—I know, that’s dangerous, I admit it.  But by way of a bit of selective personal testimony, I thought I’d share a couple of thoughts that go along with the topic of evangelism.

     Once upon a time, long long ago, my life was a far cry from what God and my family would have had it to be.  Coming out of some quite painful and scarring church experiences, I had left the church in my teens, wanting nothing to do with “Christians.”  I never really gave up on my belief in God, (I had been saved and baptized in my early teens,) but the fact was I had no real Christian teaching outside of saying the blessing before I ate, the Christmas story, the Lord’s Prayer, and the 23rd Psalm. If all I knew about the Bible and theology had been water, I wouldn’t have had enough to wash the dust out of my mouth on a hot, dry day. 

     It’s best I forego any gory details, as they are not glorifying to God, and no one would really profit from hearing them anyway.  But the fact remains, living the counter-culture lifestyle was part of my life, and illegal drugs were a part of that life then, so let’s just leave it at that. That time was one of much searching and investigating everything from other religions and philosophies, from urban to agrarian lifestyles, to various educational and vocational themes, and all of those different side trips served to lead me down just so many dead end streets. 

     My parents during these years were very active in their Christianity, having come out of a main stream denominational church, and then having gotten involved with the Charismatic movement.  They were on fire for Jesus, and I was happy that they were happy, but I still couldn’t get past the hurt, anger, and feelings that there were Nazis who probably treated each other better than I had witnessed “Christians” treating each other—long story.  Since I associated God and Jesus with the Christian church, I was just out—I couldn’t separate Christ from Christianity—at least Christianity as was practiced in the late 1960’s and early-mid-1970’s. Needless to say I went astray.

     One of the things I used to like to do was to attend outdoor rock festivals and fiddler’s conventions.  Didn’t make it to Woodstock, but as festivals were a happening thing at the time, and promoters with more money than sense of caution were only too eager to put them on, regardless of the carnage often left in their wake. I took advantage of as many as I could, along with thousands upon thousands, sometimes approaching hundreds of thousands of lost and seeking people, not at all at home with society (and religion) and its norms, scurrying around like so many ants, ingesting every substance known to man in hopes of making sense of our lives and understanding “what it all meant.” 

     Getting lost in the music gave the impression that somehow by the end of the weekend, we’d have it all figured out, and from then on live in peace and harmony in a beautiful world with everybody loving everybody, and before long the unicorns would show up and life would be nothing but rainbows. The cold, contrary reality was accompanied by bad hangovers, the ever present fact that the rent was still due on the 1st, and there was still Viet Nam, the middle-East, cancer, and the cold War.  The unicorns never made it.

     At one of these particular gatherings, I had encountered some bad substances.  The psychedelic generation experienced a degeneration of several of their drugs of choice. Once manufactured by reputable PhD level scientists working for pharmaceutical companies, due to the inevitable legal and societal constraints, these substances were later made by amoral high school dropouts with chemistry sets.  Often the catalysts used in the production of these “bath tub” drugs ended up being forms of poison such as strychnine. Such was my case.

     It was a bad night.  Several hundred thousand crazy, out of their head freaks (like me), all messed up on some potentially lethal cocktail of who knows what, turned the entire scene into something between Dante’s “Inferno” and “Mad Max: Thunder Dome.”  In need of a good dose of sanity, and a glass of milk to help with the pain of the strychnine poisoning, I wandered out of my campsite in search of any comfort I might find in the midst of the mayhem.

     Sometime during the night, I found a large tent set up offering free coffee and lemonade. At the time I didn’t even know how I had gotten there—I hadn’t seen this tent before.  When I went in, a man approached me and asked if I was all right, and when I asked for milk, he bade me sit at one of their tables, and wait while he went in the back.  They didn’t serve milk, but as they had it for the coffee, he was able to get me a cup.  He came and sat with me and told me that the tent was there as an outreach from some local church, and he offered me a tract, which he asked me to put in my pocket, and once I got home and got my life back to normal (?????) to get it out and read it. I promised I would. He probably heard that line a hundred score that weekend.

     The man was friendly and kind.  There was no condemnation, no judgment, and no high pressure sales badgering in his makeup or approach. In fact, I sort of felt at the time I had found an oasis.  Inside the tent was a loving, warm, caring spirit, and outside the tent was Sodom and Gomorrah a few minutes before the burning sulfur started to fall out of the sky. A good while passed while I was in that tent.  The man and I talked, and I told him of my church upbringing and that my parents were Christians, as if that might be some kind of currency with those folks.  That was all well and good, but it was me, for whom this man seemed most concerned.

     Like the story of the good Samaritan, this man wasn’t so much trying to get another evangelism scalp to hang from his belt (although at that time, my scalp would have been a trophy), but instead he ministered to my immediate needs.  I was wrung out from a miserable night of poison drugs, disturbing visions, and excruciating pain.  The man was a good companion, quietly and lovingly talking me down and trying to help as much as he could.  When the dawn rolled around, and the most everybody from the night before was passed out, I wandered back to my campsite.  And later that week, I read the tract he had given me, and while it didn’t seal the deal, so to speak, it was one of the influences I count as being instrumental in my return to Christ.

     God had led me to the tent.  While my physical condition and my life choices were deplorable, God, in His great mercy and grace had listened to the prayers of my parents, and, remembered the commitment I had made to Him so many years before; the one I had all but walked away from. His faithfulness overcame my unfaithfulness. Father used that tent, and that kind man, who so graciously ministered to me, to be part of the hook and line that eventually drew me back to Himself.

     In Heaven, I hope I will encounter the man from the tent.  If I heard his name, that night I was too addled to remember it.  But there that tent was, right in the way of a sin-worn traveler who represented everything that raged against the values for which the people from the tent stood.  To have responded to me with disgust, or to tell me in no uncertain terms that I was on the road to hell, wouldn’t have been altogether inappropriate responses of those good people to the sight of me, although had that been their response, I probably wouldn’t have read the tract I was given after the fact.  But the evangelistic efforts of a church that was willing to pitch their tent on a back lot in hell, and show love to the doomed and the damned creatures that populated it, made a lasting impression on me.  I often wonder if God ever let that guy know the role he played in turning a lost soul back to Christ.  If not in this life, I’m sure he’ll find out in Heaven.  Good evangelism.

     Years later, after returning to the Lord, going to Bible College, and entering the ministry, I was walking downtown in a major metropolitan center, when I was approached by a young, enthusiastic couple with Bibles in hand, who promptly asked me if I knew Jesus as my personal savior.  Thinking I might be of some encouragement to a younger brother and sister in Christ, who were out on the street doing the good work, I answered that yes, indeed I did know Christ as my savior.

     The couple quickly countered, “But, are you born again?”  A bit taken aback, I again answered in the affirmative.

     “But have you ever prayed the sinner’s prayer?”  Now I was wondering if I had entered the “Twilight Zone” or if I was secretly being filmed in some Christian version of “Candid Camera.” Again I answered, “Yes.”

     Then there was another question, “Do you know John 3:16?” No matter what I answered, there was always another question. Despite my truthful answers, it was like they didn’t believe me, and they had to put me to the 20 questions test to verify I was actually saved. Had I been a wanton sinner caught in the act, perhaps they would have known how to deal with me, but somehow their instructor never prepared them to run into a fellow believer, so they opted for believing that I had to be lying just to put them off.  It was bizarre, and it didn’t end there.

     The questions kept coming, although my patience was wearing a bit thin.  In as nice a tone as I could muster, I kept trying to assure them that we were on the same team, both bought by the same blood, and one day we would walk the streets of glory together, but they just were not having it.  I couldn’t be a Christian, because encountering another Christian on a public street reputed to be full of heathens didn’t fit their playbook.  And I’m pretty sure that was part of the problem; the playbook—I was a character not written into the script.

     In time, my limit was reached and I became quite annoyed. So to keep from bopping them up the side of their heads, I excused myself as abruptly as I could without being totally rude.  Had I not been a Christian, I couldn’t imagine being assaulted by people like that.  It helped sour me to Christianity…and I was a Christian!

     They were young, and I’ll try to give them as much credit as I can.  Street ministry isn’t for the shy or the faint of heart, and they certainly excelled in those departments.  But as to their technique, oh my!  Bad evangelism. Their example has stayed with me just as indelibly as the kind man in the tent.

     My point is, how many people do we drive away from the Kingdom by literally attacking them and putting them on the spot with the Gospel?  There is an old saying, “You can attract more flies with honey than you can vinegar.” That’s a fact.  To this day when I’m out walking, I pray God protects me from relentless street evangelists.  On the other hand, how many souls do we miss due to a lack of responding non-judgmentally to those who offend our Christian sensibilities?  We annoy people away from the Kingdom, and we let others slip away because their sin is somehow more despicable than ours.  Neither displays the character of Christ. We are failing in the Great Commission department. Look around the country.  It’s painfully obvious.

      Jesus isn’t called the “friend of sinners” because it makes a catchy song lyric.  No, he genuinely loved sinners, He hung out with them, He ate with them, and He ministered to them, died for them.  Jesus touched the leper.  Even of the rich young ruler, who ended up not following Him, it was said that Jesus loved him.  Is our philosophy of evangelism doing more good than harm?  Are our old school attempts at soul winning achieving their intended results? Maybe we need to prayerfully re-examine them, and if we find they are not producing good fruit, perhaps we need to pitch more tents in hell.

Dana

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John responded on Thu, Apr 6, 2017 at 5:37 PM 

Hey Dana

            Thank you for sharing that. I don’t ever remember hearing about this part of your life.

            I’ve been thinking about this since I read it. This is sa good challenge to me for evangelism. First, it’s been a long time since I’ve led someone to the Lord. I’ve shared about Him with some, but that’s all. But, in addition to what you wrote, I would add that I believe that all Christians should be ready to lead someone to salvation through the Savior. This isn’t an option.

            Since this is being written specifically for a post, while I believe most of our readers probably have some evangelism experience, for those who may not I am adding the remainder. How can someone evangelize the lost? I’ve got a few suggestions. On the inside back cover of my Bible I have taped a tract that has the steps to salvation on it. If I get into a circumstance where I get nervous and forget the verses to share, I just flip open my Bible to the inside back cover and there are not only the verses I need, but so is a prayer with which to lead the sinner to Christ.  

            But what if you’re someplace where you don’t have your Bible? I still carry tracts in my wallet.

            Where can you find tracts? How about your church’s tract rack?

            What if your church has become so modern or liberal they don’t believe in tracts (or the need for salvation for that matter)? Try a Bible book store in your area.

            But because of the changing reading habits of people, what if the Bible bookstores have gone out of business in your town? Go to Google. For this post I searched Google with the following, where can I buy Bible tracts? There were only about 615,000 results (0.89 seconds).  Here are just a few:






            And finally, a person can do it the old fashioned way—memorize. Through some ministries, small, pocket sized cards are available with Bible verses on them for evangelism. Carry them with you everywhere, and when you have a few minutes get them out and start to memorize. Even God wants us to this method. Here it is in the New American Bible from Deuteronomy 6:1-9

            This then is the commandment, the statutes and the ordinances, which the Lord, your God, has commanded that you be taught to observe in the land you are about to cross into to possess, so that you, that is, you, your child, and your grandchild, may fear the Lord, your God, by keeping, as long as you live, all his statutes and commandments which I enjoin on you, and thus have long life. Hear then, Israel, and be careful to observe them, that it may go well with you and that you may increase greatly....

            The Great Commandment.[a] 4 Hear, O Israel![b] The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! 5 Therefore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with your whole heart, and with your whole being, and with your whole strength. 6 Take to heart these words which I command you today. 7 Keep repeating them to your children. Recite them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up. 8 Bind them on your arm as a sign[c] and let them be as a pendant on your forehead. 9 Write them on the doorposts of your houses and on your gates.

            Even now, I’ll take a verse to work with me and when I have time, I work on memorizing it.

            I  DO NOT recommend this but I’ve even been known to tape a verse to the steering wheel of my car and when I’m stopped in traffic or sitting at a red light, work on memorizing it.

            I finish with one quick evangelism account. Carol and I were driving around in horse country in southern Chester County. We couldn’t find the farm we were looking for so we just pulled into one of the bigger farmsteads we saw. I pulled up to one of the barns,  that had an open door. It was winter and the ground was covered with snow. I didn’t see anyone to ask for directions so I went through the door and called out.  A young woman appeared out of a stall, dressed in Carhartt, tan, winter bid overalls. She accompanied me back to the car.

            She knew the farm we were looking for because she was a horse person. We chatted for a few minutes and then I felt prompted to begin to talk to her about Jesus. She was from England although she was working at a professional job in the US. I said, “Whether you know it or not, it is not a coincidence that we’ve met today and that I’m asking you about your spiritual condition. From before the foundation of time, the living God ordained this. We’re not talking about religion, but a personal relationship with His son, Jesus.”

            We talked a few more minutes. It was cloudy and windy but she was in the lee of the barn so the wind wasn’t bothersome. Because it was a horse farm, the snow, which covered most of the ground, was splotchy due to the hoof prints of the horses. while loose hay was visible inside the open barn door. I said all people were sinners and without Jesus as Savior, her Savior, she would not go to heaven. Finally I asked her if she wanted to accept Jesus as her personal savior. “Yes,” she said. So we then prayed right there in the barn yard.

            While Carol and I never saw her again, for many months afterward, we would periodically pray for her that the salvation “seed” would have fallen on good ground, that the Holy Spirit would lead her to a Bible believing and preaching church, and that God would help her to grow in Him.

            Evangelism can happen at any time and at any place. It’s not the pastor’s responsibility, but any and all Christians’. If God can use a reluctant Moses (Exodus 4:1-17), He certainly can use you, just as He has used me.

           

           

 

 

           

 

 

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