April 15, 2007: EVANGELISM
Acts 5:27-32; Revelation 1:4-8; Psalm 150
Eileen Parfrey --- Springwater Presbyterian Church

If you don't know I'm having a grandchild this summer, you are either a first-time visitor or you haven't been paying attention. I try not to be overbearing about it, but I am able to work that wondrous fact into just about every conversation. Vacation plans? I'll be going to Chicago. Working out at the gym? Fit for my grandbaby. Oil change? Keep up the Slug Bug for my grandchild to enjoy. I was reminded of my grandchild obsession as I read the book, Velvet Elvis, this week. We can talk about the title some other time, but it's a book by Rob Bell subtitled, "Repainting the Christian Faith." Bell points out that we don't defend the things we love; we enjoy them and tell others so they can enjoy them, too. Which is backdoor legitimating for my urge to introduce my friends to each other. You've probably done the same thing. You work to introduce two friends from different parts of your life; sure they'll enjoy each other because you enjoy them.

It's precisely this imperative urge that gets the apostles hauled up before the religious authorities. It's why they idly hypothesize whether they should obey God or do what humans say. Something so fantastic has happened to these guys that they've just gotta share it. Some things are worse than dying. For the apostles, it would be to obey a human directive, "Don't tell!"

Rob Bell says our relationship with God is like jumping on a trampoline. A trampoline takes your feet off the ground, throws you up, receives your landing only to shoot you back up. There is something incredibly exhilarating and a little out of control about jumping on a trampoline. But talking about jumping on the trampoline is not the same as doing it. If "evangelism" is like talking about jumping on the trampoline, no wonder the church is dying. If you want other people to really "know" the trampoline, don't you jump on, invite them to jump with you, and then see what happens? On the other hand, if you have never jumped on the trampoline, if you're still standing by the side talking about up and down and up and down, not only are you going to be unconvincing and ineffective as a salesperson, you're also going to miss out on the fun.

Evangelism means tell the good news. We're told that evangelism means to be a witness. "Witness," I think in terms of what we've seen and experienced, not swearing in a court of law. So evangelism presupposes we've had some experience with what we're telling. The year Garrison Keillor's joke show focused on religion, denominations were defined in terms of why people knock on doors. Catholics knock on doors because they've always knocked on doors. Unitarians knock on doors for no apparent reason. Presbyterians knock on doors, but they're not going to tell you what they're knocking about. Maybe the reason Presbyterians can't do evangelism is because we don't have experience. We're still researching consumer ratings for trampoline brands, studying jump styles, working on our quadriceps on the off chance that we actually get on.

What's with the secret? Why do we keep God's presence in our lives a secret? In Twelve Step groups, we learn that "It's the secrets that kill you." One woman debated revealing her secret, and her daughter told her, "You're never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there's always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don't speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside." Do you think that's true? That a Christian who remains silent about what God has done for him or her is living with a dangerous secret?

We're back to wondering whether our lack of evangelism activity is because we don't have experience. Not that we don't know "how" to talk. God knows we can talk! But maybe nothing has happened to us-as a congregation or as individuals. Maybe our lives have been totally unchanged by the gospel, by the news that in our life and in our death, God loves us enough to die for us. That Jesus really was dead but is now alive. Maybe that hasn't had a direct impact on our lives. Or maybe something did happen to us, but we've kept it a secret for so long that it now serves as our prison.

Evangelism doesn't mean we have to knock on doors. But it does mean we've gotta tell. But first we've gotta know that what Jesus has done for us means a life of freedom and meaning and purpose. Maybe it's a matter of telling yourself the news first. It makes a difference to me that Jesus lived and died and is now alive. It makes such a difference to me that I'm wildly, head-over-heels in love with God, and because I'm head-over-heels for God, I can't be a stinker to other people, I can't live as if there's no tomorrow, I can't take more than my share, I can't stand by and let other humans suffer and creation get hurt.

That's evangelism. And it is intended to be a delight, just as we human beings are God's delight. The best kind of evangelism in the world (and this will not embarrass you in front of your friends) is to enjoy yourself. Rob Bell writes this about jumping on the trampoline: "Sometimes when my boys and I are jumping and one of us starts laughing, we all start laughing. We're jumping and we're short of breath and we're sweating and we're having such a great time. When we're too exhausted to jump anymore, we'll lie down on the mat and stare up at the vast blue sky above us and watch the clouds go by and listen to the breeze as it moves the leaves overhead. I'll be there on my back, and I'll say a short prayer: 'God, I can't believe I get to live this life.'"

That's being a Christian. And that's the best evangelism in the world. Delight. Joy. Christ is risen indeed.