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Examining Evangelism 1: Conviction

Evangelism. Also known as mission, outreach, or spreading the good news; and, less positively, indoctrination, Bible-bashing, or converting the heathens. Whatever you call it, its reputation is mixed. It may call to mind Alpha courses and Billy Graham crusades. Perhaps you think of Street Pastors or food banks - churches giving practical help.  But the word evangelism may well conjure images of colonial abuses, televangelists, and people shouting about hell on street corners.


Those of us who attend evangelical churches are regularly exhorted to evangelise (well, the clue is in the name) but I have rarely heard any in-depth examination of why we may not feel comfortable doing so. The assumption, often, is that people simply don't know how to share their faith, and that a workshop teaching the four steps of salvation will resolve everything.

So I was interested to hear an episode of Beer Christianity featuring Naomi Nixon, CEO of the Student Christian Movement. She mentioned that they had resources exploring evangelism from a progressive point of view. It was a small booklet for £3. I bought it.



At first it seemed disappointingly lightweight. But when I worked through the questions, some made me think very deeply. I was pleased that it tried to bring out the positives as well as the negatives. So I shuffled all my thoughts together and tried to arrange them into some coherent blog posts. There are four altogether, with the titles of Conviction, Perception, Action, and Progression.

Some of the questions under each heading are mine, and some are from the SCM resource. 

Let's start with conviction. What do I believe about my faith, and what do I believe about evangelism?

Conviction

What aspects of my faith am I confident about?

This was in the SCM booklet, and I thought it was an important starting point. Moving to a more post-evangelical / progressive faith often means questioning my beliefs and finding room for more shades of grey. It may feel as if I don't have anything very coherent to share with anyone. But there is, still, presumably, something that keeps me hanging on to Christianity.

For me, things that I am confident about include:
  • that Jesus existed, died, and rose again
  • that this still, somehow, makes a difference today
  • that Jesus is with me and anybody else who is trying to follow him
  • that Christianity is a useful and satisfying framework to understand the world
  • that I am a better person as a Christian than I would be otherwise

What beliefs do I disagree with?

One big issue with evangelism is that it tends to be associated with the idea that everyone else is going to hell. Christians are Right and the rest of the world is Wrong, and it's my duty to inform them of that, whether they want to hear it or not.

I am pretty ambivalent about the existence of hell, these days, so that's not a strong motivator for me. I don't reckon that you have to be a Christian to have a moral basis for your life, and I'm well aware that Christians - individually, collectively, and including myself - often fail spectacularly to live up to Jesus' teachings. This is a matter for apology and humility rather than brushing it under the carpet with, "Well, everyone's a sinner".

The difficulty that this gives me is that I feel like I have to explain why, for example, I don't believe in hell, why many Christians do, why Christians disagree on large portions of their belief and practice, and why we generally don't burn each other at the stake anymore for doing so. All before I even get to Jesus!

How do my doubts affect my evangelism?

This was another question from the Progressive Evangelism booklet. In my case, it's not so much that I doubt my own faith. It's more that I can see the strength of other people's objections. When someone says, "I went to seven funerals before I turned 18, and I can't see why anyone would believe in God," or, "I still have faith but the church treated me so badly that I'd never go again," - well, what can you say apart from, "I can understand why you feel like that"? 

My life, my experience, has not taken that trajectory, and I have no idea what would have happened if it had. But avoiding pat answers often leaves me feeling like I have little to offer except agreement and sympathy.

Very few people start by asking, "Who is Jesus and what did he do?" I'm not sure I've ever been called upon to give four steps to salvation. But people are interested in why I think it's still worth being involved with a messed-up church, or how there can be a God when millions are starving to death, or where faith comes from when you never hear a word from the heavens. These aren't deliberate efforts to avoid believing, as some Christians portray them. They are questions that people genuinely struggle with, and so do I.

Why is it difficult to talk about my faith?

Well, for one thing, it's intensely personal. Some people may be happy talking about their intimate bodily functions in almost any context; most of us only in very specific situations; and much the same goes for talking about our innermost beliefs. There needs to be some level of trust before we talk about things which really matter. And if that trust has been broken before, it's even harder to open up. 

Also, my faith, much like many people's, is an accumulation of moments which are only meaningful to me. When someone else says, "I prayed, and the next moment a bird landed in the garden and I just knew God was there," it's easy to raise a sceptical eyebrow. When it's my prayer, and my garden, that's completely different. But almost impossible to explain the significance to another person.

But once in a rare while, someone asks, and listens, and somewhere in the conversation between you is a spark of the transcendent. The joy of talking about what really matters, of delving into deep matters and digging out a nugget of new understanding.  A pearl of great price.



Examining Evangelism series


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