To err is human, so we say. At least that’s what I told the man who approached me Friday as I walked to my car after work. I mean after he told me that if we loved Jesus, then we would, literally, sin no more. Did I mention he was a street evangelist? At first he just asked me if I had a relationship with God, or something to that affect, as I attempted to walk briskly by him. I told him I was “good,” meaning “It’s okay I’ve heard the message, and I’ve come to a decision about that”. For some reason I don’t think he ascertained my full meaning, especially since he responded with “well how can anyone be good?”
“Well I don’t mean literally,” I said. “I just mean, you know, I’ve come to an understanding in my faith is all.”
“Is Christ God?” he responded.
“In a way I suppose yes,” I said.
“Well what other way is there?”
“Well you know that’s a complicated concept.”
“Not really,” he replied. “Jesus says if you love me you will obey my commands. Go and sin no more.”
I decided here not to point out that he had slightly conflated the idea of Jesus being God with Jesus’ message about love and obedience. And it wasn’t that I disagreed with his initial proposition, it was just that I think the idea of the trinity isn’t the simplest theological concept there is. But I digress.
This went on for a bit, and he further expanded on this premise.
“If you love Jesus, how can you keep on sinning?”
“Well I don’t think God expects you to be sinless. I think God expects you to try.”
“The Bible doesn’t say ‘go and try not to sin,’ it says ‘don’t sin.’”
“Yes but I don’t think we’re capable of sinlessness.”
“If you’re truly transformed you won’t continue to live in sin.”
“Well yes but I think there’s a difference between living in sin and committing a sin. To live in sin is thought of as to sin without remorse or repentance, not pursuing a less sinful life. This is different than simply committing a sin, wh-“
And it was at this time that he cut me off, handing me a card with a picture on the front of a grave (in what appeared to be Hell, which I thought was overkill, since we’ll already be buried on earth) with the interrogative “Where you will go when you die?” on it.
“Email me if you have any more questions about sinlessness,” were his parting words.
While recognizing immediately that he was the last person who I would email about sinlessness, I marveled at the fact that I had succeeded in annoying a street evangelist enough that he walked away from me. Maybe he realized that I was not his ideal target, and that instead of evangelizing he was delving into an interpretive debate that failed to provide him with the thrill of fighting a non-believer on more fundamental issues like God’s existence and the evils of attending the Nashville National Folk Festival, which was the event that had drawn him there, as it would naturally provide crowds of heathens for good hunting.
Overall, I thought he was overly confrontational and thereby ineffective, a common (non) quality of the street evangelist. The coercive tone of a stranger standing on a street corner, yelling that you must have a relationship with God always strikes me with irony. I also have difficulty appreciating the presumptuousness of their questions. It’s as if it never occurred to them that someone might find the idea of a Supreme Being—whose existence (in the Christian tradition) is a unified tripartite with separate and distinct elements (in the form of Christ and the Holy Spirit)—a bit of a foreign concept. Not to mention that they gloss over what surely must be a non-believer’s difficulty of conceiving of a relationship with this being, and exactly what that means.
I kept the card, and intend to put it up in my office should I ever change my mind about seeking advice on sinlessness—I guess in the event that I exhaust every other credible source on earth that covers this topic, and am left with no choice but to resort to the opinings of a man who was wearing mirrored Oakleys as he enlightened me with scriptural truths (although in his defense, it was quite sunny). I’m sure he’s at the festival right now, assuming everyone he approaches is damned to Hell, and that as he points his finger and recites the Ten Commandments, he is confident that he does God’s work.
I’ve spent more than most of my Sundays in church, and I was even awarded a Bible once for scripture memorization (it was a enviable NIV Study Bible). Yet I lack the same confidence held by the Oakleyed man, and maybe he’s right—maybe I think too much about what it all means, and I complicate the matter unnecessarily. Maybe I should just hand out cards with imposing questions on them that suggest my beliefs. I could start simple. “What kind of food will you eat too much of tonight?” or “How many times will you go see movies that you know are going to be bad?” or “How much money will you spend internet shopping this week?” I’m sure eventually I could work my way up to questions about eternity.
“What will you do when the Oceans run out of fish?” (accompanied by picture of fish in Hell).
"The coercive tone of a stranger standing on a street corner, yelling that you must have a relationship with God always strikes me with irony. I also have difficulty appreciating the presumptuousness of their questions."
ReplyDeleteStreet evangelism is not my style. I tend to think that the method is not a particularly effective tool for the culture in which we now live. But, if the guy was sincere, then it's best to let him do as he wills and leave it at that for the following reason: abrasiveness alone doesn't invalidate his message.
I imagine that John the Baptist was at least as abrasive as this guy. Israel's history is replete with moments when its people mistook strong convictions--very forcefully articulated--for presumptuousness. See 2 Chronicles 36:16; Hebrews 11:36. Cf. Luke 20:9-13 (the parable of the vineyard).
Why run the risk of mistaking awkward delivery for in-authenticity? You will probably never find me on a street corner with a bullhorn. And, yes, I may find the "tract-bearers" just as superficially annoying as the next guy. But even in these situations, I strive to heed Gamaliel's counsel, Acts 5:33-39, and avoid potentially impugning or opposing those whom God has especially commissioned for what I imagine is a very tough task.
You raise some interesting points, anonymous commenter. Allow me to respond...
ReplyDeleteFirst, I agree with you that abrasiveness alone does not invalidate a message. Abrasiveness is indeed often useful, such as when you are the commanding officer of a rowdy battalion. Or maybe when you are a supervisor, chastising incompetent employees. I doubt, however, that abrasiveness is the proper manner to adopt when trying to describe the unfathomable depths of God's love, or when emphasizing the need for a personal relationship with Christ. And although abrasiveness does not invalidate the message, if it repels the audience, then the message is lost. If I storm into my overweight coworkers office and lambast them about the dangers of heart disease, true as what I say might be- I can feel sure that my aim of inspiring my coworker towards a healthier lifestyle will probably not be accomplished.
Second, I never questioned the authenticity of my street evangelist, or any street evangelist. And I do believe their questions are presumptuous, but this is not the same thing. In the end, I think the concern should be the effect on the listener, since that is the means by which evangelism counts its success. And to be perfectly frank, I have serious hesitations about the idea that every (or any) street corner evangelist was commissioned by God, despite their confidence to the contrary.
Lastly, I don't believe I interfered with this particular man's mission in any way. He left me standing during what I felt was a civilized conversation. Honestly I wish he'd stuck around for a while.
"And although abrasiveness does not invalidate the message, if it repels the audience, then the message is lost."
ReplyDeletePerhaps. Wrapped in your thought are two questions that I think are quite worth considering:
1) Under what conditions is "abrasive truth delivery" morally good or bad.
2) Even if "abrasive truth delivery" is good, is it still effective?
As to the first question, it would seem to me that as long as the speaker's conscious objective is to be faithful to a message regardless of how offensive it may be--as opposed to being offensive for its own sake--I think there may be wide moral latitude to offend. See, e.g., John 8; Acts 7:51-60.
As to the second question, I think we have to ask what "effectiveness" looks like in order to answer it.
If we mean that a message is only effectively delivered when the recipient adopts it, then I think there are plenty of non-abrasive deliveries that fail the test just the same as abrasive ones. However, even if that is what the term means, there still seems to be scriptural evidence to suggest that offensive messages can still be effective. Jesus and John the Baptist were phenomenally offensive--and yet many came to salvation through their message. I think we would be hard-pressed to argue that their message was lost for the fact. Even the threat of physical death seems not to have hampered peoples' acceptance of the Gospel message. Cf Acts 5:1-16, esp. 11-13 (it seems that the passage explicitly connects the general populace's fear of the apostles with the growth of the apostolic church).
But if effectiveness does not mean that the hearer receives the message, but only that the speaker deliver it, then I would think effectiveness is no less reached by the strident speaker than the even-handed and gentle one.
"Second, I never questioned the authenticity of my street evangelist, or any street evangelist. And I do believe their questions are presumptuous, but this is not the same thing."
Forgive me, I meant no accusation. Did I mistake playful tone for soft derision? If so, my apologies. I only struggled to understand the basis of your objection to his behavior. (Because, if it genuinely were to his effectiveness, that would seem to impose a higher standard on him than I would wish to bear myself. Even the best of our efforts are so often imperfect.) Thus, the only basis I could suppose was a lack of authenticity, but I suppose that suggests more about my imagination's limitations than anything else.
Lastly, I did not mean to imply that you had interfered with his mission. People are quite capable of opposing things without necessarily interfering with them. I suggested you consider Gamaliel not to indict you, but to offer an example of something I had found enlightening in my own life. I only meant that humanity is made up of many admittedly had-handed people--but it's hard to tell the diamonds from the lumps of coal in the here and now and Gamaliel seems to have understood that fact.
Anyway, this has been stimulating. Thanks for the think.
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