Three moments from my back pages always come to mind.
One is the memory I have of being fifteen and standing on a street corner in some wild and unevangelized city like Memphis or Louisville with my hands full of Four Spiritual Laws booklets. They were given to me and my fellow members of our youth group in Nashville to hand out to folks in such pagan cities in order to save the city and its residents from eternal damnation. Why we were not so concerned about our own city, I do not know. Perhaps the kids from Louisville had gone to Nashville to cover our backs. I am not sure I did much good.
The second moment has to do with the title of a book I edited back in the nineties, a title that has always stuck with me — A Life That Becomes the Gospel. Which sounds to me like a pretty fair witness to having heard the Gospel, the sort of witness I would like to make some day. I was struck by the double entendre for the word becomes in the title and still am. Does it mean to reflect well on the Gospel or to turn into the Gospel? I thought then and still think now that it means both. And I think I am being called to live that out in some way that affects others, maybe even draws them nearer to the kingdom.
The third is the simplest and most powerful expression of the Good News I ever heard. My friend Russell once said to me that he thought three things were true. The first is that God is love. The second is that that Love got loose here on earth somehow in the person of Jesus Christ. The third is that if you believe the first two, then everything about your life is different — the way you talk, the way you act, the way you work and think and love.
I believe that somewhere in between and around and through and up under and next to ‘becoming the Gospel’ and ‘everything about your life is different’ is the kind of bearing witness and preaching of the Gospel to which we are called.
I believe that somewhere in between and around and through and up under and next to ‘becoming the Gospel’ and ‘everything about your life is different’ is the kind of bearing witness and preaching of the Gospel to which we are called.
3 comments:
Dear Robert,
I can so relate to this nervousness. I suppose it comes from growing up in the church I did. My parents attended Evangelism Explosion every Tuesday night and made house calls asking people what would happen were they to die that night.
Naturally, we went door to door and asked the same question when the high school youth group went on missions trips to New Mexico.
And so of course it is the question my father would ask boys brave enough to come pick me up for a date. And a few even made it past that to take me out the door and on to dinner.
I like your third point. It reminds me of St. Francis (it was him, wasn't it?) who said to preach the gospel at all times and even resort to using words if you have to.
Joanne
P.S. I do so enjoy this blog and am so glad you and Ben are having this conversation in such a way that the rest of us can listen in and even interrupt from time to time!
JOANNE —
Thanks for sharing your memories with us. And for your kind words about the blog.
And, yes, St. Francis gets the credit for the quote — all 42 versions of it. I wonder if Francis does not have something in common with Yogi Berra, who once said, I really didn't say everything they say I said.'
Stay in touch.
R. Benson
This brings to mind visions of me in 11th grade, hands full of tracts - it might have been "The Four Spiritual Laws." I actually sneaked down the school hall and stuffed them one by one into lockers. It was a long time before I came to see that sharing the Gospel was so much bigger than that. Recalling my mindset at the time, I, too, get nervous.
Zeal is wonderful. Yay for zeal. But I really like peace and acceptance better. To me, it takes more trust and gumption to let other people be who they are, and live among them, than to run around frantic, trying to change everyone's mind about re-li-jun.
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