Ask the Question

“Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them…Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you.”  (Matt. 28:19, 20)

This command weighs heavily on my heart because I am not a natural evangelist.  I treasure my faith and my walk with Jesus, and I’m not afraid to share it with others.  If someone confronts me about it, I willingly and unapologetically defend my beliefs.  But I’m not good about taking the initiative and sharing my beliefs “cold turkey.”  I feel awkward and ill-prepared.

The irony is that I used to be one of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and used to go door to door making cold calls.  I would ask householders about their faith, if they thought it was wise to examine the Bible and examine their own beliefs.  I literally spent thousands of hours doing this in Lynnwood, Edmonds, New York City, Chile and Tacoma.  But this was a forced requirement from their governing body.

So, why would I have a hard time doing it now?  It was not something that I would have chosen to do.  I was being obedient to their direction and a loyal Witness.  But I wasn’t doing it because I really wanted to.  Happily, I never converted a single person that I am aware of.  Maybe this speaks more to my ineffectiveness as an evangelist.

Fast forward 40 years, and I review the Bible’s gifts of the Spirit.  Evangelism isn’t mentioned specifically, but maybe it's because God asks it of all of us.  My gift might be “serving others.”  (Romans 12:6-8)  I can fix things.  But what about evangelism, making disciples?  I still struggle with it.  But there is no one looking over my shoulder, demanding that I go door to door and make proselytes of strangers.  Consequently, it is easy for me to stick to what I know: fixing things and flying under the radar.

Recently, I was talking with a pastor’s wife about spiritual gifts.  I admitted that I didn’t feel evangelism was a gift I had.  I would feel very comfortable working in the background, unnoticed, buried in my spreadsheets and computer programs.  She said she felt the same way.  She was very happy working alone in her office, organizing church events and activities.

Then she paused for several moments, and said, “Well, wait a minute!  I’m always getting calls in the office from people who need help.  It might be sickness, finances, relationship issues or other troubles.  And the first thing I ask is if they have accepted Jesus.  Because, if they haven’t accepted Jesus, there isn’t much we can do.  We need Him to help us!”

You could have knocked me over with a feather.  She is right.  We all need Jesus.  Trying to do things without His help is futile.  And that gave me a different way of looking at it.

Later in a small group, she shared that one of the ways to share about Jesus is with our own story.  We all have stories, often many of them.  One of mine deals with closing my electrical contracting business.  I was owed half a million dollars (it might as well have been $100 million) and I was faced with the real possibility of bankruptcy.  It was a dark time of discouragement, depression, fear, abandonment and tests.  However, through it all (and it took years), I learned the importance of a prayer partner.  I learned from Job that bad things happen to good people.  I learned that God has a plan, and I need to trust that.  I learned, after hitting rock bottom, that when Jesus is all you’ve got, Jesus is all you need.  That was 1993.  Now, looking back after all that has happened, God has blessed us far beyond what I ever could imagine.

After listening to my story, the pastor’s wife said, “Good story, Bob.  But now you need to ask the question.  Too often we stop there and the listener walks away thinking ‘what a nice story.’  There is no personal commitment.  So, we need to ask the question that forces them to respond.  ‘Is this something you want in your life?’”

I don’t know why it would be so hard for me to ask that closing question, and yet I realize how important it is.  Most will respond negatively.  I might be the tenth person they say “no” to.  But who knows what seeds have been planted and where it eventually might lead?  And that thought, next time, might give me the courage to ask the question, when every other urge in my body tells me to keep quiet.