Bringing God Into It

Rethinking Evangelism

Welcome to my new blog where I am processing what I’m learning about myself, my neighbors, and my God as I work as a pastor in Seattle, WA. Rock of Ages is an older Lutheran congregation that has gone through multiple life cycles, much like the neighborhood it is located in. Since our church’s founding, the neighborhood around us has changed economically, racially, politically, religiously, and probably in any other way you can think of. The challenge our church faces, like many others in America today, is how to engage our neighbors with the Gospel when they often look, sound, believe, think, and organize their lives differently than us. And due to all these changes, the typical ways that past generations successfully engaged people with the Gospel just don't work anymore.

For example, we could try to invite our neighbors to an evangelistic event where they could hear the Gospel from a gifted public speaker, but nobody from our neighborhood is going

to show up to something like that. They just aren't seeking out spirituality from a church. But, let's say we did the whole "bait-and-switch" thing of hosting an event at our church under the guise of "fun," while subtly bringing in the Gospel once we have people’s attention. That won’t work because most people around here are savvy to those typical attempts at manipulation. So big events don't work anymore. But what about cold-called personal proclamations of the Gospel? Well, we could train our congregation to go door-to-door with a pre-planned presentation of the Gospel, or even a personal invitation to come to church, but I guarantee that we'd end up finding out what most of the other door-to-door salespeople are finding out today - people hate opening their doors. Do you want to know the fastest way to get a Gen-Xer or Millennial to hate you? Just knock on their door without carrying a package from Amazon. So scratch the cold-called personal proclamation or invitation out. But what about impersonal mass invitations? Well, if my own house's practices are any indication of our neighbors' practices, those mailings will only get as much attention as it takes to carry them to the recycling bin. In all actuality, our neighbors will most likely get angry that we wasted a stamp and paper on it rather than designating that money to support the poor.

I could go on and on here, but I think you get the point. Most of the typical evangelistic techniques that have worked for churches in the past are complete non-starters in most places in America today, and that fact is only magnified here in Seattle. In fact, if I was a betting man, I’d comfortably wager a good bit of money that if our church did any of those things I listed above, there would be a net negative effect on our neighbors engaging with the Gospel through our church.

So… That’s a bummer… I guess we should just stop doing this whole evangelism thing then, right? Since people don't want us to share the Gospel with them, we don't need to share it with them, right? Wrong. The mandate to be Christ's witnesses, to proclaim his good news, and to make disciples of all peoples will remain until the end of this age. This isn't a 'job' that the church is going to get out of, nor should it want to. No, the mission mandate from Christ remains on us today. The church is still meant to be evangelistic. But that being said (and this is why I am writing this blog), I propose that we rethink what evangelism should look like in our postmodern (or is it post-postmodern?) America, and especially in places that are notably antagonistic towards Christianity, like Seattle. So, to that end, let me share one story with you that captures what I'm seeing and feeling about where evangelism needs to go. But first, some background.”

Learning to Listen

A couple of months ago, I began working as a part-time resident with an evangelism coach by the name of Al Dayhoff through a ministry called Evangelize Today. You'll see some of their logos on this blog, and insights from him in my writing. Well, one of the things that he encouraged me to do right away was for me to get off of orthodox real estate and onto non-orthodox real estate. Literally, he was saying "get off of the real estate that the church owns and get onto real estate that the church does not own." He told me to start regularly going to a pub, gym, or some other place where I could be on neutral ground with people who aren't Christians. And this is a pretty obvious strategy to be more successful in evangelism.

If I get around more non-Christians, I'll be able to have more evangelistic conversations. But that's not exactly why he wanted me to start getting on non-orthodox real estate. He wanted me to go, not as a speaker or presenter, but rather as a researcher and listener. But let me tell you... In my pastoral training, I was trained to present the Gospel.

As a pastor, speaking is a big part of my job. It's my responsibility to share something that will bring light into the darkness, something that will bring hope to those in hopeless places. But the reality is that in order for my words to have any effect, someone else has to be listening. And they won't listen unless they trust me and believe that I have something worth listening to. And more than trusting that I have something that is worth listening to, they need to trust that I am someone worth listening to.

To increase my credibility and gain their trust, I need to demonstrate that I care about them and that I am someone they can rely on. The best way to do that is by listening to them, reading their eyes, hearing their words, and observing them. Listening helps me understand who they really are and what matters to them, and when that happens, the relationship can grow from there. Listening knits our hearts together and helps us enjoy each other's company.

Eventually, the person I listen to might trust me enough to listen to me. They might ask me about my spiritual beliefs. And when I share them, it will be coming from the mouth of someone they know cares about them and loves them. But until that day comes, any sort of proclamation is just providing answers to questions that they aren't asking.

In an age where church people are often distrusted before we even open our mouths, it's more important than ever to show people that we are out for their good before we try to tell them what we think is good for them. Only then can we hope to make a real impact in their lives.

So that is something that I am looking to grow in. And with that context in mind, I want you to imagine what would have happened in the story below if I would have come in looking for an opportunity to speak rather than looking to listen.

“And don’t you F#$%’n bring faith into that!”

I regularly visit a German pub called Prost!, which is located up the hill from my house. When I first started talking with Al, he recommended that I regularly attend a bar, a gym, or some similar place where I could be on equal ground with people. Since I'm not fond of working out, I chose the bar, and Prost! has become a favorite spot. The pub offers an array of delicious German beer, pretzels, soups, and sausages that I indulge in (all health food, of course). However, what's even more delightful than the food and drink is the company. The people at Prost! are often so friendly and welcoming, making it a great place to spend time.

A couple of months ago, I sat down next to a guy from Ireland (We’ll call him Patrick), and he invited me to join him and another guy as we sought to compile a list of the five albums that we would choose to have with us if we got stranded on a desert island. We ended up with about 40 albums between the three of us. Beer and math apparently don’t mix well… Anyways, after the other guy left, Patrick and I started talking about the usual stuff of life - the weather, where we came from, our careers, artificial intelligence, the extinction of humanity, depression, dementia, existential dread… You know, the usual…

Patrick is very intelligent. He is married, has a couple of kids, and works in the tech industry. A while back, he came to the Seattle area from Ireland, and he has become quite successful in his field here. And as I talked with him, I could sense that he has a significantly higher-than-average capacity to listen and to show empathy. He asked good questions, didn’t push beyond what the conversation was ready for, and yet he probed enough to give the conversation space to grow. I was going to the pub to grow in my ability to listen, and Patrick was teaching me! And as Patrick was teaching me, something happened.

Through the course of our conversation, I had let on that I am a pastor down the road. He was kind, maybe cut down on his coarse language a tish bit, but overall, he still treated me like a regular guy. A short time later, as we talked about the potential of extending our lives through medical advancements and the augmenting of our brains through artificial intelligence, the subject of dementia came up. And Patrick abruptly said this. “Dementia… What a brutal… What a brutal F#$%’n way to go. My mother passed away not too long ago from vascular dementia… It just robbed her… and us… of F#$%’n everything that we had together… And don’t you F#$%’n bring faith into that.”

Now… I’m a pastor. Isn’t it my job to bring faith into conversations like this? When someone opens up about a traumatic experience that has clearly left a lasting impact, it's tempting to try to offer immediate comfort or guidance. But the truth is, that person needs time to process and heal, and what they don't need is a stranger telling them how to feel or trying to fix everything for them. When Patrick shared the story of his mother's "brutal F#$%’n" death, I knew that the last thing he needed was a "Bible Bullet" - some trite statement about how he could have faith in God despite the pain. Instead, what he needed was someone to listen, to be present with him, and to offer support as he navigates the aftermath of such a traumatic event. Trauma changes a person, and it takes time and patience to work through it. So rather than trying to offer quick fixes or platitudes, the best thing I could do was simply be there for him, to sit with him in his pain and offer whatever help and support he needed.

Now, did I want to bring faith into it? Oh yes... And did I go through a bit of an identity crisis as a preacher who was not given permission to speak? For sure. (And, by the way, we'll talk more about that in another newsletter.) But did I speak the Gospel? Did I bring faith into it? No. I restrained myself. But just because I didn't bring faith in, that doesn't mean that I didn't contribute anything of spiritual importance to him. I may not have brought "faith" into the conversation, but I did bring God into it. Now, I may not have referenced God directly, but by being a listening ear and by expressing concern for him, I showed that I care for him. And because God is living in me, I showed that God cares for him. He was present with Patrick as he shared his pain. He had someone show concern for him, and since I am a believer, he now knows that there is a Christian out there who is concerned with his well-being.

Now, did he become a Christian that night? Did faith in Christ infiltrate his heart? Nope... But that's not the only goal. I'm hoping and praying that in the weeks, months, and years to come, as I build a relationship with him and show that I have his best interests at heart, he will be curious about what I believe and why I believe it. But even if that doesn't happen, I am going to enjoy this delightful human. I am going to listen to him. And through my intentional presence, I am going to bring God to him rather than expecting him to come to God. And wouldn't you know it, but that seems to fit more in line with how the Gospel begins anyways.

The Incarnational Listener

The Gospel story begins with God coming to us in the incarnation long before he ever preached a sermon, performed any miracles, or did what he did on Good Friday and Easter. Long before he engaged in his public ministry, he sat with us, he lived life with us, he listened to us, and he demonstrated that he had listened to us enough to know what it really means to be one of us. The Gospel story doesn’t begin with preaching but rather with 30ish years of sitting and listening to us. Long before you ever get to the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection from the dead, and the life everlasting chapters of the Gospel story, you have the chapter on God coming to be with us. And as a church, I think that this is the chapter that we might need to lean a bit more heavily into in this world that God has sent us into.

We’ve been flexing our muscles of cultural transformation (miracles) and preaching for a long time. We haven’t missed a single day of that exercise. But I think that our situation today needs us to get some more work in on listening and sitting with people. We are like the bodybuilder who never works his legs. We’re top-heavy; unbalanced. And in order to get balanced we are going to need to lean much heavier into the listening side of evangelism. And in the process, I think we are going to get to know a part of the Gospel story for ourselves that we might not be as fluent in these days. By learning to listen to others, we might just hear our God who has first listened to us.

Follow along for more of my adventures next month.

(I’m planning on posting these newsletters the last week of each month).