Evangelism Introverted

I'm an introvert. Actually, I'm extremely introverted according to the Myers-Briggs personality assessment. Don't let the number of words I say fool you - I'm a turtle put up on a platform. That means that I process internally and that I recharge by being alone. I love people, but being around a lot of them gives energy to extroverts and wears out us introverts. When I was a software manager, we would work these two-day job fairs 3 or 4 times a year, interviewing dozens of people each day. By the end of each day, we introverts were exhausted and the extroverted HR folks were so revved up they wanted to go out clubbing. I just wanted to go home and say nuttin' to nobody for a week.

Extroverts don't understand introverts. They might intellectually understand what introversion means, but they don't really get us. No amount of explaining will make them see ... and besides, no introvert wants to do that much explaining!

And yet as believers, we are told we're supposed to be involved in this thing called evangelism. For extroverts, "Yahoo!!! Something else I get to talk about!" For introverts, "Please, God, no. Take it back. Tell me to come in before everyone else and set up the chairs or something, but not that."

As we've been talking over these weeks about discipleship and reaching out to others, perhaps my fellow introverts have been nodding in agreement in principle, but secretly determining that most of this stuff is for them. You know them - they're the ones talking to six people at once after the Sunday morning gathering. Apparently, sitting quietly and taking notes isn't good enough for some people. (What's wrong with them, anyway?)

One of the notes we've had in our planning documents from the very beginning is "Don't forget the introverts." That's pretty easy, since both Jimmy and I are introverted.

Rather than write a long article on this (and repeat some really good articles on the topic), I want to stick with just one point. The word evangelize is not Greek for "Talk a lot to a lot of people, and especially those you don't know." It is Greek for "To bring Good News." There's nothing in this definition that requires extroversion. The only thing that requires extroversion is how the church has typically taught evangelism (taught by extroverts who don't get how introverts can be truly introverted).

So, my fellow introverts, have you ever given good news to anyone about anything? News about sports, politics, technology, or even the right answer on an exam (truth is a form of good news)? Ever? Did you do this in writing? One-on-one? In response to someone else who started the conversation? (Did you die in the process?) Sharing the Good News of Christ doesn't have to be any different than other ways you've already introvertedly shared good news about other things.

Evangelize as an introvert if you're an introvert. Trying to evangelize as someone you're not is way too hard. Trust me - I do that every week.

By the way, introverts don't understand extroverts, either. So ... just stop trying to explain it to me. Seriously - just chill.

Grace and Human Effort

Point: Jesus says that apart from Him, we can do nothing (John 15:1-11). The consistent Christian message is that we cannot accomplish anything significant by our own effort: salvation, sanctification, holiness, converting others, and so on. A significant portion of the narratio Dei (the narrative of God) is demonstrating that man cannot repair the damage inflicted upon himself by his sin or reach the presence of God by his own devices.

Counterpoint: Diana Nyad, 64, swims from Cuba to Florida in 53 hours. Felix Baumgartner reaches Mach 1.25 jumping from a balloon at nearly 128,000 feet and lands safely. Men and women gather their collective abilities to launch rovers to land on Mars then explore and send back mountains of data. An international team collaborates to determine how to decode DNA. Man can do amazing things with or without calling upon God for any help.

Two of the many questions these observations bring to the surface are:

1. How can both be true?
2. Should I or should I not try hard with the activities of the Kingdom?

How can both be true? Do we have conflicting observations, or are they complementary? Can we or can we not do something significant on our own? There's no denying the amazing feats accomplished by believers and unbelievers alike - physical achievements, mental achievements, and even overcoming challenges to personal fortitude.

For both to be true, there must be one other observation: Making ourselves eternally significant is a feat more difficult than even the most amazing human accomplishment. Rather than downplay or deny the significance of what humans have accomplished "on their own," the magnitude of what we can do only shows just how impossibly difficult it is for us to even approach "good enough" by God's holy standard. In other words, Observation 2 (the greatness of man's accomplishments) demonstrates by comparison the height of Observation 1 (the greatness of God's accomplishment in us).

The greatest things we've done are still less than what Jesus accomplishes by meeting God's standard. And then, by grace through faith, He gives to us as a gift that kind of perfection! Not our own, but His accomplishment cloaked around us, crediting it to us as if we had accomplished it ourselves.

Should I or should I not try hard with the activities of the Kingdom? If even the greatest acts of the most amazing men and women cannot advance the Kingdom, then what good are all the acts of us less amazing people? If the strongest man can't push a rock into heaven, why should the rest of us push at boulders? And yet God effectively commands us to push at boulders ("make disciples," "exceed the righteousness of the Pharisees," "love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength").

In order for our Kingdom-minded actions to mean anything, there must be one other observation: God's commands are not for what we produce, but rather for what He produces in us. He commands us to push at boulders not because He wants us to move boulders without Him, but that He wants us to be the kind of people who push boulders. By putting our every effort into pushing boulders, God changes us into the kind of people He wants us to be. He wants us to be fully committed boulder-pushers, the kind of people who pour every ounce of sweat into His business, even though we can't push boulders into heaven.

He'll take care of moving the boulders. But He wants us to be fully engaged in His work, rather than a bunch of boulder-watchers who are disengaged from His work. He wants us to resemble Him by being as involved in His work as it takes to swim from Cuba to Florida.

Man's greatest feats and God's Word are not at odds - the weakness of our "greatness" demonstrates how necessary the Cross is, just like the magnitude of the universe only demonstrates how much more vast God must be.

Definer Questions

There have been a few people in my life who have asked me "definer questions." That's my made-up term for questions that cut through all the complexities of an issue and lay the real issue bare in clear, simple terms. Some of these definer questions have lead to successful major life decisions.

There are presently two related definer questions that I am mulling over these days, targeted specifically to the research that we've been doing on discipleship (in large part from Jimmy's efforts).

The first definer question comes out of a study I did with a couple of students over the last year. I figured two young men at the beginning of their lives as adults would benefit greatly from Paul's words to Timothy, who was also facing a world as "the young guy." For each passage of the text, we discussed structure and meaning, but then I always brought it around to the same question each week: What does this mean for being a fully committed follower of Jesus?

Invariably, there would be an awkward silence. We just finished talking about the passage and thought we had a handle on it. But then after this question popped out, all of us realized that we hadn't really mined the depths of the passage. We would look at the passage again and again, and begin to appreciate the layers of the text. Eventually, we'd begin to offer answers to the question - answers that made us uncomfortable because of the cost necessitated by discipleship. But what rich discomfort it was!

The second definer question is more focused on how to evaluate and improve our ministries here at Grace. There are many good things we can do in church ministry - far too many to do all of them. There are things that we've always done - many of which we should continue doing, but others perhaps not. (For example, we didn't do a carnival this summer because it was not the best use of our energy this year.) That question is: Is this the best way to cultivate complete followers of Jesus?

This question helps us keep our focus on our priorities and not put our effort into any number of good things that keep us from the great things. There are a lot of good ways to disciple others, but we want to do the best things we can to cultivate complete followers.

We just had a discussion among some of the leaders about a particular opportunity. So I posed this second question. What transpired was great dialog with quite a spread of opinions, but the differences don't scare me. The dialog was the kind of authentic discussion that we must have for us to keep on mission, with everyone contributing truly pertinent thoughts specific to our church's highest priorities. We may have missed some important ideas if we didn't have a definer question. A definer question gave us a means to navigate a tough issue and to make some decisions now as well as fuel further discussions later. It gave us clarity for the process of evaluating this and other issues.

What are one or two "definer questions" for your life's mission?

My habits are so habitual

We've been studying and teaching about discipleship and a missional mindset over these last several weeks, with the goal of getting our minds right on these ideas before even attempting to do anything specific about it. It is our expectation that right actions will come from right thinking, and right habits will come from right actions.

This great theory, however, doesn't prevent me from my wrong habits that come from wrong actions that come from wrong thinking.

While moving Lynne's folks this week, my brother-in-law (Steve) and I did a McDonald's run for breakfast, since the kitchen had already been completely packed. (Although I consider fast food a bad habit in its own right, that's not where my story is going.) I had a very simple order - one eggwhite muffin combo, one #1 combo, and three #2 combos, all with coffee. To her credit, the gal working the counter was extremely creative in finding ways to fulfill the order by all methods except the correct one.

I confirmed three separate times that they were all combos with coffee. And yet, I had to stop her from filling sodas and to pour coffee instead, then from 3 coffees to 5, then from 3 hash browns to 5. The floor manager noted she had rung up the order incorrectly, which she shrugged off wordlessly. After all of that, I still never got my #1 combo. If I had wanted two eggwhite combos, I'm quite sure I would have said something other than "one eggwhite combo and one #1 combo." Never did she acknowledge an error, apologize, smile, or even try to change her original, determined plan.

Here's where my wrong thinking led to my habitually wrong action: My concern for this person, who God loves and who bears His image, was fleeting at best. In my habit, she existed only to feed me quickly, pleasantly, and without error. When she failed to exist in that manner, my main concern was getting the greasy, high-caloric, high-fat, oversalted breakfast (and coffee!!) that I was on a "mission" to get.

But my real mission is supposed to be to cultivate complete followers of Jesus (Matt 28:16-20). My real mission never really came to mind because of my habits, which came from my actions, which came from my thinking.

I want a new set of habits so that my first thought for people I encounter is to wonder how I can cultivate, even a little. How can I "loosen the lid"? By habit, I'm still more of a consumer than a cultivator. But ... my thinking is beginning to change (aided by a little indigestion, which reminded me of right priorities - bleh).

Why these limits?

I wish I had more hours in the day.

If I won the lottery, I'd give half to the church. Think of the things we could do with that!

I'll sleep later ... there's work to do!

I wish God had made me better at this! It would be good for His purposes - why didn't He give me more talent?

We bump up against these kinds of limits every day. We are limited to the number of years we have on this earth. We are limited in the amount of money we have, even money for worthy, sacrificial causes. We are limited every day by our need to sleep and by the amount of energy we have. We are limited in our capacities and talents. We live lives of limitations.

If I was running the show, I don't think I would have done it that way. If I have purposes for my universe, why would I want to limit the capacity of my little subjects to carry out my purposes? That seems counterproductive. Why limit them from the very things I want to happen in my universe? There's so much work to be done!!!

These are merely theoretical questions, but we face real, tough questions in real, tough situations. We could send more food to an overseas orphanage if we had more money - the nutrition of little kids is on the line! A pastor could serve more needs, do more counseling, prepare better sermons if he didn't have to sleep at night. More people could hear about the claims of Christ if I had better skills at talking with and engaging people - but as it is, they're hearing a substandard rendition of the Gospel. There are real consequences to these limits.

And these limits are put there by God Himself. He designed us to require sleep, He does not permit us to have infinite wealth, He did not give everyone every gift ... or any gift in full measure. He does not permit us to live beyond the century mark, on average. Yes, our our sin and our own lack of diligence contribute to these limits, but there are hard limits put on us by the very hand of God.

Why? We could do so much more of the stuff He likes!

First, we need to reconsider what God wants to accomplish in the universe. We Westerners tend to be task-oriented, and so we foist onto God a task-orientation and assume His goal for the universe is for more of His favorite tasks to be accomplished. It is true that He wants some tasks done. But His greater goal is to develop us into a particular kind of people. And He accomplishes that purpose better with limits than without. What God wants to do in our character, He does more effectively by putting these limits in our lives.

He wants us to be sacrificial (which you don't have to do much if you have no limits). He wants us to offer to Him our prayer-saturated, wisdom-influenced decisions as an act of worship (you don't need to be wise if you have infinite resource). He wants us to choose the best over the good. He wants us to be humble. He wants us to rely on Him. He wants us to have a particular character, and He carves that character with the blade of limitations.

Second, we remember the mind-boggling truth that when Jesus came to earth, He took on Himself a life of limitations. He has existed eternally with all the attributes of God, which means the only real limitations He had were that He could not do anything less than perfect and He could not do anything contrary to His nature. Other than that, He really didn't have any limits. Now, with a full human nature, even a sinless one, He lived within limitations of time, strength and stamina, resources, and the demands of sleep.

Jesus' ministry on earth was performed not only in spite of, but because of those limitations. He died. That's a limitation God had never experienced before. Without that limitation, we are lost in our sin.

Limitations annoy us, frustrate us, and can even draw us into depression. However, limitations are also God's gift to us in order to accomplish His greater purpose. He glorifies Himself through us because we face limitations. It's not a question of having limitations, but what we do with them.

What if we weren't afraid of death?

I'm meeting weekly with a student who's just about to ship off to college under the illusion that I have all kinds of things to teach him. What happens frequently, though, is that during our discussions, one of us will trip over a question that makes us both look up the ceiling and try to figure out just how significant the question is. This happened yet again this week - two guys inspecting the ceiling as if the answer was written there.

The background of the question is that there are many forms of death. There is physical death (heart stops beating, lungs stop breathing), emotional death (no will to be in relationship or to live life), spiritual death (the state we're born in, plus the eternal fire thing), social death (shame, loss of status, friendless), intellectual death (learning nothing, thinking about nothing meaningful), death of security (in danger, no sense of protection), and even economic death (financial ruin). All forms of death, and we could list still others. Death in these terms is not only the opposite of life, but also separation. We are separated from our friends, from God, from security, and so on.

In Scripture, death is punishment for rebellion against God. He brought all forms of death as punishment in varying degrees. Adam and Eve suffered immediate separation after the Fall, Israel suffered waves of death of all kinds to urge them back to the covenant, on the Cross our Lord suffered death and separation on our behalf, and eternal death will be the ultimate punishment in the eternal state.

In Christ, however, death has been defeated. Not just physical death, but all forms of death have been defeated by the finished work of Jesus on the Cross and His resurrection. "Whoever believes, even he dies, yet he will live." (John 11:25)

Yet, fear of death in all its forms cripples us from loving fully, obeying entirely, taking risks for the Kingdom, sharing our faith, giving generously, and on and on. Fear of death prevents us from fully following Christ.

So, our question was, "What if we weren't afraid of death?" Not just physical death, but all forms of death. What would life be like we we had no fear of these things, because all forms of death have been defeated? If we die, yet we shall live - in every form of life. Can I therefore live life with virtually no fear at all of any form of death?

Imagine what your life would be like...

The story of Mary

There are too many stories to tell from our trip to Kenya, but there's one I must tell. It is the story of "Mary" (not her real name).

We were invited to visit the home of Mary by her family. Mary was just recovering from malaria, and we were asked to pray for her complete recovery. That sounded simple enough. It was not simple.

The home was modest - not as sparse as many homes we saw, but still humble. The living room was tightly cramped with 10 or so people conversing over lunch, but they did well enough financially to afford a television. Women flitted in and out of the room to bring the handwashing basin, and then the waves of food - rice, ugali, goat stew, chicken, and fish. It was hard to keep track of who was a wife, who was a sister, and who was an in-law. But plenty of smiles and hospitality.

Mary looked to be in her teens, but she's actually in her 20s. She was soft spoken, sometimes too soft to understand. She exuded a sweet spirit (although we later learned that she could have fits of anger). Mary also had some form of speech impediment, which appeared to be related to a slight deformity with her mouth. (I found out in my class later that week that it is common for people in that area to hide those children with deformities. Indeed, people who attended that church for years didn't even know Mary exists.) We were told that she was challenged emotionally and mentally, but it wasn't clear that perhaps her medicines fogged her acuity. The end effect for us was an immediate empathy for a sweet, troubled girl. I was keenly grateful that Janette was sitting nearest to Mary, who directed almost all of her answers toward Janette no matter who asked them.

Pastor Benard, who knew some backstory that we learned only later, proceeded to ask Mary a surprising sequence of questions. Very quickly, he changed from normal questions about her health and recovery to questions about dreams, fears, and how she was treated. Mary was plagued by all three - horrible dreams, persistent fears, and domestic abuse. Those she said were hitting her were present in the room, but it seemed the awkwardness of this was felt only by our team.

In this part of Kenya, there's no place for Mary to go. There are no safe shelters to provide refuge. It would be nearly impossible for her to find reputable work to support herself. It's hard to find a husband in her circumstance, let alone with the dowry and negotiation system for most marriages there. This seemingly sweet girl with extra challenges in life is locked in an abusive situation with no option but to stay.

The Lord gave several of us pertinent passages of Scripture and deep-felt prayer to share with her, and to no little effect. But we were helpless to extract her. We pray for Pastor Benard as he follows up to have wisdom and creative ideas. We pray for her abusers to repent. We pray for her healing. But with only our own devices, we are helpless to "fix" her situation.

Mary is forgotten by the world, except but a handful of people. And now us. And now you.

The Bible consistently teaches (especially in Exodus, Leviticus, Isaiah, and Luke) that God's people advocate for the vulnerable. We too often politicize questions about who should and should not receive help, but the Bible seems to focus on the vulnerable. When the Bible was written, the vulnerable were the likes of the widow, the orphan, the sick, the foreigner, and the desperately poor - those susceptible to oppression and exploitation. It is the task of God's people to lend strength and aid to the vulnerable.

Without much physical ability to help the vulnerable Mary, we turn our efforts to helping Pastor Benard to help Mary. If there is anything he tells us we can do, we will share that with you. For now, we render aid by praying for God to provide that aid and to halt the actions of those who oppress her.