The first time I typed in the URL for this blog on my work computer, I typed theguiltyconscious.wordpress.com. I don't know what switching conscience for conscious unconsciously says about me, but I do have a list of alternate names for this blog that arose as a result:
Imagine you are at a White Sox game circa August 2008. The Sox are playing the Detroit Tigers. One unfortunate side-effect of this game is that fans of the Tigers attend. You are sitting with me and a couple of friends 10 rows up from the third base line. Two rows ahead is the enemy. The enemy is blond, loud, and a fan of sweat-shorts that hang below the butt. The enemy has taken a poster of Mark Buehrle (free to the first 10,000 fans) and made a sign supporting the Tigers on the blank back. The enemy is attending the game with his girlfriend who dutifully wears a Curtis Granderson jersey and half-heartedly rejoices with him after every Tiger's hit.
A final perspective on the duty to share your belief from my good friend Alfred Louis Cedeno. If you haven't read these start here and then read this before continuing. I just watched a video sent to me of John Cena—the WWE wrestler known for hustle, loyalty, and respect—announcing that Osama Bin Laden was killed. The professional wrestling crowd unsurprisingly chanted “USA, USA,” and he said that he was damn proud to be an American.
As someone who has tried to understand professional wrestling from students and coworkers this past year, Cena’s popularity initially stumped me. He seemed boring and straight-laced for the theater of professional wrestling. Perhaps it lies in the simplicity and consistency of Cena’s mantra:
Hustle/Loyalty/Respect
On a mission’s trip, I spoke with two struggling alcoholic men who had lost faith. We prayed I spoke truth to them more passionately than I would to any acquaintance. We engaged in a dialogue of men of similar faiths. I was broken before them and they were with me. We cried and prayed in a park in Pittsburg. I don’t do this normally, but I was on a trip. I was elsewhere, and I had agreed to being a knight on an errand for Christ. I was being dutiful. I gutted a church (literally), and shared the gospel. I have never felt (to borrow a phrase from the previous post by Kevin) that HE IS GREAT so much until after becoming dutiful (very reluctantly because I was laid off and recently diagnosed with depression).
Hustle, Loyalty, Respect
Obedience and duty are too old-fashion to have sex appeal. They are too steady for the ironic quips of the blogosphere. They smack of nationalism and worse, but maybe, once we find someone worth following, once we know “he is great” as Kevin remarked, then as in marriage we can mature into the next stage, the stage that is filled with duty. It sounds unromantic. I love my wife because it is my duty. I am faithful not because I always think she is great but because I am dutiful. I go to work because it is my duty. I try to live with
Hustle, Loyalty, Respect
Except when it comes to sharing my faith. I don’t really try anymore. I kind of want to give the reasons that I don’t follow my duty as a person of faith, but they don’t matter. I am called to share. Lane is right that the gospel may not be wanted, may sound like a scam, may be insulting, or excessive or any other number of things. But I am called to do it. I don’t have to do it in the ways that make me cringe, but surely I can share the freedom of Christ, surely I must share his peace.
My college buddy Kevin Parker responds to my post from yesterday Personally, I do want to share my faith but I've come to see that the old cliche "They don't care what you have to say until they know you care" is true. And I think it boils down to one thing: Pride.
I think Lane is right that "what is actually getting shared is not the message of the gospel but the faith of the presenter" most of the time, or at least what's shared as the "model" for evangelism often. The reason I believe that is because again what Lane wrote, "They are confident in what they are saying" and by that I think you can infer "They are confident in themselves." Which, self-confidence isn't necessarily a bad thing, but...well let me use hipsters to make my point.
People don't like hipsters. We find them annoying because: 1) They're taking someone else's work and attributing that fame/success to themselves, 2) They look down on people who don't share their belief, and 3) Deep down, they're not satisfied or finding enjoyment in the thing, but in themselves knowing about the thing.
Christians who talk about Christ with "confidence in themselves" are doing the same thing. They 1) Take the work of Christ and the fame of the good he did and put that good work onto themselves, 2) They can't understand that belief comes from an act of grace from God not from their own intelligence, and 3) Deep down, they are more pleased with themselves (for many different reasons) than they are with what God thinks of them. All of that spells out for pride, the same pride we hate in hipsters or slimey marketers.
But, a man who believes in anything, it doesn't even have to be in God or Christ, with deep conviction and passion, and with an unassuming nature just deep contentment in the beauty of that thing...that person's belief/conviction is contagious, even transcendent.
I think the church would do well to focus less on how to be a great evangelist and more on why we'd want to even talk about God in the first place. A lot of people are saying "God is not great" and the church's response should be less "You're killing our culture!" or "You idiot!" and more, "Why do you think that?", listen intently to the person, let it challenge your own belief, and then respond based on why you think God is actually great in a way that is a response not a rehearsed line. And if you find no compelling reason, nothing compelling to you that answers why you in fact think God IS great, then ask God to make it clear to you why he is great, and SHUT UP until you actually believe He IS great. Bottom line: Less pride in ourselves, more enjoyment for who God is and a trust in his character.
In Christianity we are supposed to spread the faith. Jesus asked his disciples to be "fishers of men". The typical "we need to evangelize" sermon you will hear at church goes something like this: God has given us a great gift in Jesus Christ. This gift is life changing and gets you into heaven. To generalize, if you believe X is either essential to living life or essential to avoiding harm why would you not share X with everyone? I can think of a couple of reasons.
1. Some people don't want X. I'm not just talking about Jesus. But that fits. I don't want to hear about Jehovah from a Jehovah's witness. But I also don't want to hear about Kirby vacuums, or Trugreen lawn services, or weekend only delivery of the local newspaper. If I need a vacuum or lawn service or a newspaper I know where to find it. I've never been more interested in any of the above after talking to their representatives.
2. X sounds like a scam. I can see why someone wants to become a Christian and join a church about as much as I want to get involved in Amway. Sure its amazing and it changed your life. But you are weird and obsessed with stupid things that I don't care about. And I like my job. I don't want to earn a living going to all my friends and getting them to buy things from me.
3. Lastly, an offer of X is insulting. If you tell me about a better way to parent I'm going to thank you, maybe look into it, probably I won't. And that's where it will end with most people. But if you keep badgering my about your cure-all book or DVD collection I'm going to get the impression that you really think I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm also going to stop talking with you.
Maybe the main reason I don't like to share my faith with others is that I feel like what is actually getting shared is not the message of the gospel but the faith of the presenter. I am not going to claim a lack of faith. But I spend most of my time mulling through questions about my faith. So when I talk to other people about God or Jesus what comes out is not a strong dogmatic declaration. It is a winding, pedantic, quagmire. In the end I share more of my doubts than my faith.
I'm a believer desperately. I don't have all my answers lined up. I believe because I want to and I'm willing to let the loose ends be loose ends. I believe because if there is no redemption then I think we are all screwed. I believe because I think Jesus actually did die and rise again. That seems compelling to me. But I also totally understand why people don't want to hear about it. To be honest, I don't want to hear someone else talk about it either.
Lane Severson is a recovering child-prodigy, father, and Anglican. Follow Lane on Twitter @ljseverson
