Evangelism

I have something of an interesting relationship with evangelism. The term "evangelism" comes from the Greek ""εὐαγγέλιον", (eu-angelion) meaning "good news", and in turn suggests the spreading of some event that is positive, uplifting, life-bringing. Alas, if you ask someone on the street what evangelism means, I imagine the majority of people might have something of a negative or distrustful view of it - hellfire and damnation being preached from soapboxes, or such stereotypical views. Often we Christians turn what is meant to be good news into bad news, or judgemental news, or frightening news. But nothing, in my mind, is further from the truth of the 'gospel' (good news). 

Mark's Gospel begins "The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God"  - this good news is that God has come to Earth, in human form, to clear up the mess we've made of the place, and offer himself in our place for getting the job done.  If we admit we've messed up and that we need God's help, he can forgive us, enter our lives and begin to shape us into the people he meant us to be. This strikes me as awesome news!

But how to tell people? The news, of course, is double-edged - there's the problem with not accepting the good news, which has negative repercussions eternally, something every Christian struggles with at some time or another. God's love, however, I believe should override ALL other reasons for telling people the good news - for, as Paul puts it, we are only a "clanging cymbal" or "noisy gong" if we go out and evangelism without love for others being our prime motivation.

Like with love between friends or partners, it must always be accompanied by actions that show the words are true and signify something. Take an example I have been involved in this year; AfterHours, where on friday evenings I help give out free hot drinks in the Appleby Rooms (turned into a chillout cafe) or outside the DSU (where Planet of Sound happens). I get to chat to lots of interesting people and give them a free coffee (a rarity in Durham); if they ask why I'm doing it, I can tell them that God's love for me is a motivator, and that I'm following through on the love that I profess for my neighbour, not just in words but in actions.

This is the sort of evangelism I find both most effective and most enjoyable. I can tell people about Jesus and the life-changing stuff that he brings, as well as just bless people like God wants me to. It's not about me earning God's favour through doing "good things", or trying to look "holy" before people - I genuinely do care about Durham's students, and even if I don't get to tell them about God, that's fine because I can love them by giving them a hot drink on a cold night.

"The only thing that counts is faith, expressing itself through love". (Galatians 5:4)

Lots of crime, not much punishment...

I'm currently half way through Doestoevsky's "Crime and Punishment", which I attempted to read around five years ago, with very little success, barely getting 100 pages in before losing interest. 

This time around, however, I've been grabbed by the book in a way I managed not to be beforehand. I'm reading the Penguin Classics translation, which is very fluid and clear, and am finding so many things in it that I missed the first time round. Doestoevsky seems to have a brilliant way of describing situations, often for pages and pages, whilst keeping you interested; usually I get utterly frustrated by books that spend too long on descriptions of people/places/plot (Thomas Hardy, I'm looking at you!).  He also has an amazing insight into the way the human mind works, plotting out the protagonist Rashkolnikov's machinations and inner monologue spectacularly, often sucking you in to the very emotions felt by the man himself. Most of all (and this is one of the main reasons why I felt compelled to have another stab at this book, if you'll excuse the pun), Rashkolnikov is portrayed as the archetypal "criminal" - which, given my placement in a prison this year, is quite interesting food for thought...

I won't go into too much detail on the plot, but essentially it brings the following question to my mind, which also happens to be the one I have been mulling over during my visits to prison - that of Nature vs. Nurture. Would I, not having had the upbringing and start in life that I have had, had ended up in exactly the same position as the prisoners in front of me? Many of them have had appalling childhoods, financial or family pressure to resort to criminal activities, or (like Raskolnikov) have ended up in debt and desperately need to pay off their loans. 

However, (again like the protagonist), there is the question of whether one's innate character is entirely shaped by the world around us. Are people merely "victims of their surroundings"? Raskolnikov seems to have an innate mental instability and mind complex whereby everything is analysed down the every minutiae - slowly but surely, he can justify any action he does to himself, or to others around him. The guilt however, that he feels (and that many of the people I've met feel), is not escapable - something that reminds me of the power of the human conscience. For this reason, I get irritated when I see papers like the Daily Mail or their ilk calling criminals "monsters" or "fiends" - yes, some people are mentally unstable and should be treated securely for their own good. Yes, some people have done terrible and devestating things. But we do no good either to the victims or to the criminal by de-humanising them and calling them 'monsters'. 

The problem is that in each of us, there is that self-same potential to do wrong. One theme that runs through the Bible is that we live in a fallen world, a world that has been fundamentally "broken". Human nature, too, is "broken" - our wills are corrupted, so that "I don't understand what I do. What what I want to do, I don't do, but the very thing I hate!" (Romans 7:15). Often we know what's right, but don't have the impetus to carry it out - I struggle with this every day! We rant and rave about people who have murdered, robbed, defrauded others, putting them on a pedestal that says "really bad", which in many cases is just short-hand for "worse than me". We put a line inbetween them and us, and in doing so seem to self-righteously suggest that we never do wrong, nor have the capacity for it. I'm not saying that punishment is a bad thing - it is a necessary thing, to have justice. But justice must always be tempered with mercy, understanding, and rehabilitation. I have seen and heard of lives in prison fundamentally changed by God's power to re-shape people's lives. I go in every week, getting to know the men inside, trying to help them understand that there is a God who thinks that they are worth something, not just inhuman monsters.

God is in the business of transforming lives. If you get a chance, read One Step Beyond, by Gram Seed - evidence of God's power over crime, drugs, sin, and everything that gets in the way of having a full life. Jesus came that we might "have life, and have it to the full". (John 10:10). His power is stronger than anything that crime can muster - his love is better than anything the world can offer. If I didn't believe God had any power, I wouldn't be doing this year of church internship! It's not about me going into the prison and proclaiming how much better I am, or how much better off they'd be if they "joined our club". It's about telling people the good news that God can turn people's lives around. In Jesus there's a wiping of the slate, a clearing-out of past wrongs, a chance to start again. As a Christian, I still muck up and fail - I'm still human. But the difference is that God is, little by little, shaping me and moulding me into a new being, a different person. I still retain my inner 'Tim-ness', and am not going to be replaced by a mindless automaton spouting Bible-verses - instead, I become more of who I truly am. 

Through Jesus, any of us can be forgiven - there is no crime so severe that God cannot forgive it if we truly are sorry for what we've done. I find this hard to stomach, as do the guys in the prison. But I believe it, even if I don't fully understand how it works, in the same way I believe my computer functions (but don't have a clue how the inner machinations function). To end, this Psalm puts it better than I can:

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, 

       slow to anger, abounding in love.

He will not always accuse, 

       nor will he harbor his anger forever;

He does not treat us as our sins deserve 

       or repay us according to our iniquities.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth, 

       so great is his love for those who fear him;

As far as the east is from the west, 

       so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

As a father has compassion on his children, 

       so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him.

(Psalm 103:8-13)

The Road to Emmaus

The Road to Emmaus, Part One (Luke 24:13-27) 

I think that so often, like the men on the Road to Emmaus, we can carry on life's journey somewhat oblivious to whom we are walking our journey with. This has been particularly evident to me, half way through a church internship, where God is the point and the purpose of my year's work, where what I do is (meant to) give him glory and help further his kingdom - loving God, loving my neighbour, making disciples, being blessed to be a blessing (I'm sure you know the drill).

And yet, in the middle of 'living for God', we can so easily switch our attention from whom we are serving to what we are doing: not to some works-based salvation, (which is a more obvious pitfall to avoid), but instead into a mindset in which we miss the point of why we run kids work, stack chairs, learn theology, live a simple life, proclaim the gospel and the like. 

It has been said (somewhat cheesily, but nonetheless truly) that other religions are do, but Christianity is done - essentially that we, forgiven through Christ's sacrifice on the Cross, are no longer required to do anything to merit God's favour, but in Jesus the work is already done. This is not to say that there are no good works to be done (Ephesians 1 puts paid to this, as does all of James), but that they should flow primarily out of a sense of thanksgiving and thankfulness. At a recent conference in Leicestershire, I was helpfully reminded that without thanksgiving, our work for the church and for God becomes a labour, a burden to be borne, and utterly devoid of any joy. As one of my church leaders puts it, nothing sucks out our joy like duty or obligation. I find this to be manifestly true in my own life; I have signed up for a year of service, but if this service is rooted primarly in feeling that I have to earn God's love by 'doing things', then my work will not have the 'mark' of God's love on it. As 1 Corinthians 13 puts it so beautifully:

 "If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing."

We, as Christians, have the unmerited and utterly bemusing grace of having the Holy Spirit dwelling within us (or "among us", as per some translations). In Galatians 5, we see how the Spirit leads us and how we live by it. We are indwelt by God himself, which is a bizarre and ever-so-slightly-unnerving thought. We also have "Christ in [us], the hope of glory" (Colossians 1:27). Like the men on the road, we have God right next to us, living amongst us, not more than an arm's-length away - as Paul tells the Athenians in Acts 17:27-28.

So often though, we forget this amazing fact. God feels far off, distant, slying ticking or crossing off boxes on our 'approval' sheet, waiting for the Day of Judgement so he can give us a piece of his mind. But nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, we will give account for our actions, and yes, we should serve the Lord with all we have and this gladdens his heart. But above all of this, one simple thing remains - God loves us. The theme of God's love permeates the Bible like a dye running through a piece of cloth, saturating it with a brilliant hue. God's love is the initiator to all salvation, all good things, and all grace. It's not the wimpy, melancholic, 'swoon at a bunch of flowers' love that Keats loves moaning about, but the daring, bold, courageous and all-encompassing love of a father who runs into a burning house to save his child's life at the cost of his own. John 3:16 may be over-quoted ad nauseum, but that's because it's so very true! 

"For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life". 

We have God's spirit within us. We have Jesus working powerfully in us. We have God showing his compassion and love for us. We are not alone.