Tag Archives: evangelism

On the Edge of a Cliff

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace, Prayer

Journal 2005

Going for an Oral Interpretation major in college, I once performed a reading with a powerful visual about standing atop a cliff, desperately trying to stop people from going over the edge (presumably to hell). The point was to urge believers to evangelize. I even know one missionary who went overseas because of this visual. But all I ever felt was guilt, helplessness, and powerlessness.

As I sit with my emotions, I notice there are danger signs at the edge of the cliff. In fact, there are warning signs before the danger signs. I’m praying desperately for people to open their eyes and take notice, and if I take my eyes off the scene, I’ll miss someone. Still I feel helpless. I have to DO something. If I sit down to rest, I’ll get stampeded! Where do responsibility and trust intersect?

Jesus says, “Back away from the edge of the cliff, find a bench, sit there and wait. Offer cold drinks and sandwiches to the weary travelers. Invite; don’t panic. Invite them to rest with me and talk. Tell them about the cliff and encourage them to share the news with the other travelers on their path. And if while I’m talking to one, and another passes by, I can just wave and smile. And if I need to sleep for a while, I can ask Jesus (or an angel) to tap me on the shoulder when I need to wake up and pay attention. Whew! That feels better.

Winning Souls

Posted on by under God, Scripture

Journal 2005

The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life, and he who wins souls is wise.

The legalistic Bible school I attended felt like a trap, sucking the life out of its students. They taught that “soul-winning” (a phrase lifted from Proverbs 11:30) was the only/primary goal of the believer. All else paled in significance in the Christian walk. And the associated church’s supreme goal was increasing their numbers, proudly announcing each Sunday how many souls they had won for the Lord, like a collection of scalps on their belts.

But there is no glory in collecting scalps from dead people on a battlefield. God gave these scalp-takers the job of searching the battlefield for dead soldiers and waiting there until the General arrived. Only He can bring them back to life. And so it’s a bit amusing to watch these braggarts showing off their trophies of war.

God has assigned me the job of getting wounded soldiers to the medic tent where the Great Physician can set their broken bones, remove bullets, and put healing ointment on their wounds. He has assigned other people to water boy duty. Some are healthy, front-line soldiers. Others are responsible to cook for the army. And then there’s the chaplain who prays with dying men.

It takes a whole army to win this battle—and the enemy is not people. To a select few, God gives the gift of scout/see-er who recognize Satan’s invisible hoards and know effective weapons for dismantling their power. Some take great delight in swinging wildly in all directions, hacking off their heads. But the General told His army all they have to do is stand still, fully armed, and He will fight the battle for us.

A 2022 Update. I have a lot more grace toward my alma mater now, for I see them as untrained soldiers, blind to the need for an army to work together against an unseen enemy. Over the years, I’ve watched some of them fall in battle, while others matured and became stronger in their faith.

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The Evangelism Thing

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Peace

Journal 2005

Since birth, I ate, drank, slept, and absorbed evangelism in all my pores. I watched my parents and other missionaries plant churches in Africa. I read missionary biographies including the exploits of the Apostle Paul, and I tried to obey the Great Commission and share my faith with every stranger on my path. Though my heart was in the right place, however, my actions were paste jewelry.

Along with the injunction to share the Good News, I collected some lies. All these years, I’ve carried around a deflated, stretched-out balloon. The Lord offers me a colorful hot air balloon instead, but when I climb in, I can’t seem to let go of that useless piece of latex. I need to go back to where it first inflated.

I dedicated my life to missionary service in Grade 6, so when someone asked, “What if God called you to stay in the States,” I emphatically replied, “He wouldn’t!” It’s a little ironic how many times people have declared, “I’ll go anywhere, Lord, except . . .,” and usually they fill in the blank with “Africa.” Yet I could not face my own “What if” and fill in “America.”

And so, Lord, I hand you my pride and arrogance. That little balloon, held at arm’s length in my sixth-grade hand, stood for the call to evangelism, to missionary service. I should have placed that balloon in my heart and sought HIM instead, where He could fill it with His Spirit.

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I drop that melted balloon in the trash and soar with God, wherever His Spirit takes me. There’s no climbing out of this craft. I’m here now, and here’s where I plan to stay, and unless we land somewhere else, it’s safest in the center of the basket.

A 2022 Update. God is not limited by the choices we make, our deflated dreams, or even our emotion-laden vows. From my more mature perspective today high in the air, I can see the route He took to bring me to the fulfillment of His dreams for me, and I am at peace.

Red Rover, Red Rover

Posted on by under God

From my 2013 Journal.

For 11 days I sat by Scott’s bedside at St. Thomas Hospital while he recovered from knee surgery. I watched a team of workers ministering to the patients. In one shift, a doctor, a PA, a nurse, a tech, a food deliverer, a cook, a housekeeper, a student nurse, a supervisor, and a case worker all contributed to the healing process. Only the surgeon or only the cook wouldn’t have been sufficient. Pain med management was no more important than the one who emptied the urinal. It was a well-oiled machine where everyone had to do his or her part, what he or she was skilled and trained for.

Somewhere I was taught that in God’s kingdom we should all exercise all the spiritual gifts (teaching, helps, hospitality), even if they aren’t my gifting or calling. I cut my baby teeth on “Bringing in the Sheaves” and the primacy of evangelism, but It has been a very long time since I’ve shared my faith openly with a nonbeliever. I have made a gradual yet complete shift away from evangelism to discipleship, from making converts to helping to heal the body of Christ. It has become my calling, and it’s intentional. But is it okay?

The housekeeper should never attempt surgery, and it would be a waste of his training if the surgeon gave up his job to do janitorial work. Acts 6 records the scenario where the apostles maintain their calling and giftedness—prayer and ministry of the Word. But the ones responsible for distribution of the widows’ food are no less godly or gifted. In fact, they’re specially chosen and commissioned by laying on of hands. It wasn’t the gift or the type of work that qualified them, but their character. We tend to put huge accolades on the public speaker, but every team member behind the scenes has a spotlight on him too.

What’s my point? I would never be able to stand in front of 50,000 people like Angus Buchan and proclaim the Gospel unless God called and equipped me for it. I have become more and more convinced that life is about celebrating our various roles in the kingdom . . . though I guess I’d like the fun sometime of reeling in the fish, not just putting worms on the hook.

The issue I’m wrestling with is the bold declaration in public that Jesus is the Christ. What inside me makes me shrink? I could speak to a believing crowd because we’re on the same side of the fence . . . teammates.

And there’s my visual. At first, I saw a tug-o-war, digging in my heels in total opposition to the other side. Instead, God showed me “Red Rover.” Evangelism is an invitation to join our side. My spirit relaxes with that.

So . . . I can tell someone on the opposing team, “Drop what you’re doing. Let go of the hand next to you. Come test our side. Experience the strength of the God side. Come join forces with us.” Our team breaks apart where there’s sin and idolatry and strongholds, and the enemy captures one of our members. But our team will prevail. Our God is stronger than your gods!

https://rachaelgilbert.com/red-rover-red-rover/

Go, Preach, and Baptize

Posted on by under God, Scripture

Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. (Matthew 28:19 KJV)

From my 2011 Journal. My childhood was immersed in the culture of evangelism.  My missionary dad preached in remote villages of Nigeria and established a church. My mother’s medical work and reading classes were all for the purpose of getting a foot in the door for evangelism. We MKs (Missionary Kids) could quote the Great Commission forward and backward (in King James of course). Many of our hymns and choruses reflected the missionary calling: “Bringing in the Sheaves,” “The Ninety-and-Nine,” and “Rescue the Perishing.” Preachers berated us for staying in our “holy huddle” and not reaching out to the lost. Bible school professors instructed us on how to knock on doors and “draw the net.”

One Sunday I sat guilt-ridden through one more passionate three-point evangelistic sermon on how each believer was required to “Go, preach, and baptize.” I may have had opportunities to share

Paul baptized

My brother’s baptism at Kent Academy

my faith, but I had never preached to or baptized anyone. Feeling triggered, I wondered how this Baptist preacher would feel if I, as a woman, actually offered to stand in his pulpit and preach . . . or asked to take his place in the baptistery. I began to push back against the notion that evangelism was the only viable gift of the Spirit. Was the Great Commission given only to men? Only to the Apostles? Was I being disobedient if I have never dipped anyone?

What if discipleship is what God has called me to rather than evangelism? Maybe I’m a Dorcas or a Ruth. Maybe I have the gift of mercy rather than exhortation. It’s time to stop our shame messages and learn to work together as a body—each with his or her own gifts.