Listening the Good News
An eager entrepreneurial evangelist (3 E’s!) had a desire to share the Gospel with people who did not know it. So he left the confines of his church and went to a local coffee shop. He sat down, Bible at the ready, and placed a clearly-worded cardboard sign on the table before him. The sign read: “I’LL BUY YOU A CUP OF COFFEE IF YOU LET ME TELLYOU ABOUT GOD.” He sat there all day; and while many people took notice, no one took him up on his offer. The next day he changed tactics. He went to a different coffee shop and sat down in plain view with his little sign in front of him as before. Only this time the sign read: “I’LL BUY YOU A CUP OF COFFEE IF YOU TELL ME YOUR STORY ABOUT GOD.” That day he spent $50 on coffee, and spent hours talking with more than a dozen people about life and faith and Jesus. Why? Because he started out by listening. There is a common misunderstanding that evangelism—that is, sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ—entails going up to complete strangers and rolling out a well-rehearsed spiel. It can be like that sometimes (but com’on, ask yourself: how effective has that strategy been with you when a couple of guys show up on your doorstep?). Here’s something I say a lot: “Evangelism is not making a sale; it’s answering a question.” It’s not trying to persuade someone to take Jesus for a test drive; it’s going the distance through the twists and turns, ups and downs of life in such a way that others take notice and have to ask you how you are able to stay on the road. It’s hearing what’s really being said—beyond the complaints, the excuses, the moans and the sighs. And it’s responding in such a way that the other is validated, even loved. Sure, sometimes we might be too scared to say a thing. But sometimes I think “we love to tell the story” so much we don’t pay attention to the situations of those we’re telling it to. No wonder our best and most sincere efforts often fall on deaf ears. Shelley is a student in one of my classes. She had to write a paper about Jesus but didn’t hand it in when she was supposed to. Instead, she hung around after class until all the other students left to talk to me alone. I knew what was coming. “I didn’t finish my paper,” she began. “I don’t know how to end it.” Now, there’s an established policy on late submissions, and I was about to interrupt and remind her of it. But instead I decided to listen. “Why couldn’t you end it, Shelley?” I asked. For the longest time she said nothing, struggling to find words. I waited her out. She took a deep breath and told me of her life: abused by her father, a teen-aged runaway, sex trafficking, drug use, a child born out of wedlock, a failed marriage, and a suspended sentence for shoplifting. It all just came tumbling out. And then, “I don’t know how to finish my paper,” she said, “because I don’t know if Jesus could love someone like me.” That’s when I shared the Good News with her. Of course, I’d spent three weeks talking about it to the class, but this time it was just for her. I’m sure glad I held my tongue, and heard her out, before I said a word. As I write this, I’m still waiting for her to complete the assignment. Yet, while I may not have a clue how Shelley’s paper ends up, but as for her life... that’s a different story. “Always be prepared to give an answer to anyone who asks you to account for the hope within you; but do so with gentleness and respect” [1 Peter 3:15]. But first, listen.