Doug Van Pelt

You are the Vine, We are the thorns

Wow.
I'm back from vacation. It was a good one.
Something weird happened at one point, though.
One of us was physically in pain and wanted healing. A bunch of us gathered 'round this person (some reluctantly, because of the context, which included anyone walking by the beach). During the prayer, which included reading Bible verses and real Palm Olive Oil, a couple people started praying in tongues -- loudly.

I was reminded about one of the four mini-lessons in a Bill Hybel's study called Walk Across The Room that a small group from my church watched together. It's a really cool study that shares ways and methods on how to share the life of Christ we have with others. One of the lessons had a point called "Weird God Stories." We were shown a few video clips of examples and strongly encouraged to keep it simple, leaving out weird God stories. Why? Because they're weird. They can freak people out. The wailing in tongues was an interesting example, to say the least. Even with an interpretation (there was none given), that's a weird thing. It's weird for those believers who haven't experienced it; it's weird for those of us who have; and it's whacked out for those who might witness it and not be a believer themselves.

Is it possible to do bad things for the kingdom?
Is it possible to turn a non-believer off?
Is it possible that we could mess things up so bad that only a miracle could bring that person around?

I think we have incredible potential for good. I also think that we have this incredibly destructive potential to do things for bad. I laugh at the comedy on Terry Taylor's solo album: Edward Daniel Taylor's Miracle Faith Telethon of Love. He has someone check the "Fruit O Ministry Tote Board," which adds up the number of souls saved by "this ministry" and subtracts the number of hearts permanently hardened to the Gospel, to give a grand, "Fruit 'O Ministry Total." That's funny, but it's sad to think about being a real bad or freaky example to a non-believer.

We so believe in a God that has proven Himself to us. We want to share the good life, the satisfaction, the feelings of cleansing and forgiveness, the healing of our souls, the ability to love and even a fresh new ability to resist sin. We long to share that with those we know and meet. When you discover something good, you simply want to "turn on" our friends to the cool, good thing. If/when we find someone that opens up and exhibits traits as a "seeker," who is exploring spiritual things. That's an exciting place to be. If God is real, we can trust that He'll be active in this process -- even if we are not; and sometimes in spite of us.

David Crowder recently explained to me how he could have peace about allowing someone to enter his church, ask questions, and then leave without being given an answer. He mentioned how sometimes our answers are trite and/or "place a period" at the end of that sentence. In other words, our quick answer turns the person off and they turn around and never want to engage you in conversation again. You've made them extremely uncomfortable and they want to get away. Also, Crowder emphasized that "God was present in that person's search before they came into my space, and He will be present after they leave my space, too." He wasn't espousing never opening our mouths and sharing answers we've found. He was just emphasizing how we can over-do it. We can get a "Messiah complex," which makes us feel like God isn't working in another person's life unless we are there actively working, too. God doesn't need us. He does, however (hallelujah), often provide golden (and sacred) moments for us where we have the opportunity to share the right thing at the right time. Sometimes we won't even know it.

During the times where "I do know it," I tread carefully, knowing I could say too much or too little or being intrusive or insensitive or mean-spirited or prideful. I've seen the unsolicited answer offered before and watched it "fall" on "deaf ears," simply because it wasn't invited.

Don't buy it? Don't believe what I've said here?
Okay, after this paragraph, get up and leave your computer, run (or drive) to the nearest person and say, "Jesus is real. He died for your sins. You can be forgiven and not go to Hell if you believe and receive His forgiveness. You can pray with me right now. Would you like to?" I bet if you do that (save for the grace of God opening the doors) right now that it would be an example of perhaps "the right words at the wrong time."

A teacher friend of mine shared:
"They don't care what you believe until they believe that you care."

Posted by Doug Van Pelt at November 1, 2007 12:19 PM