A Gospel Impression

If your church vanished from your community would anyone notice?  Would there be an outcry? If your church vanished I would hope that those who hate the things of God would celebrate, for your stance on the gospel no doubt made them angry. But I also would hope that your church has made an impact not only because you oppose sin, but also because you love sinners, and became memorable for spreading the fame of Jesus in your area.  In Acts on numerous occasions we read that people were “filled with wonder and amazement” (Acts 3:10) or “astonished” (Acts 4:13). Does your community have such a sentiment toward the work of God in your region?

During the rise of Christianity in the early centuries believers made an indelible impression in their time in at least two obvious ways. The first: persecution. We read in the Acts and in the annals of church history how courageous men and women withstood horrific trials for the glory of God.  The noble response of Christians to persecution impressed more than a few unbelievers regarding the love of Christians for their Christ and thus the wonder of the gospel.

Take for instance Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna. This second-century church father stood before the crowd in the arena. The proconsul ordered the elderly saint to recant his faith in Christ. Polycarp replied, “Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He never did me any injury: how then can I blaspheme my King and my Savior?”

When threatened with wild beasts, Polycarp remained undaunted. When threatened with fire, he answered: “Thou threatenest me with fire which burneth for an hour, and after a little is extinguished, but art ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and of eternal punishment.”

Polycarp was sentenced to be burned at the stake. But the fire didn’t burn him. Finally, he was pierced with a dagger. He was praised not only for his courage but because his death was consistent with the gospel of Christ. While terrorists today may cause harm to others in the name of their religion, Christians endured affliction for the gospel.

But another way the early church called attention to the reality of Christ came from the response of His followers in the face of massive plagues that hit the Empire. During the reign of Marcus Aurelius beginning about AD 165, a plague devastated the Empire, striking massive numbers from the poorest slave to Aurelius himself. Another came around AD 251 with similar effects.

In his Easter letter about AD 260, Dionysius wrote a tribute to the believers whose heroic efforts cost many of them their lives. Pagans tended to flee the cities during plagues, but Christians were more likely to stay and minister to those who suffered: “Most of our brother Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves,” Dionysius observed, adding, “Needless of danger, they took charge of the sick, attending to their every need and ministering to them in Christ, and with them departed this life serenely happy.”

Reading this from a comfortable home in the West it would take more than a stretch to think our light afflictions—offending someone, even the loss of a job for Christ—compares to the persecution we read about elsewhere.  But I wonder if we can share in the difficulty of the persecuted church by our willingness in the West to forsake comfort to minister to those in dire need.  Acts of profound compassion can make even a jaded culture like ours take notice of our Lord. Dyonisius would agree: “The best of our brothers lost their lives in this manner, a number of presbyters, deacons, and laymen winning high commendation so that death in this form, the result of great piety and strong faith, seems in every way the equal of martyrdom.”

I fear that sometimes we in the West can feel a bit of self pity that we do not suffer as believers do in places like Saudi Arabia and China.  Of course, too many of us relish our ease of life and pursue a prosperity gospel long on narcissism and short on sacrifice.  We have a hard time changing the world for the gospel when we value the materialism of a lost culture in the church; they see no difference in our lifestyles, so they are indifferent to our message. But if Dionysius is right, there is yet a way to be valiant for Christ in any culture: seek the marginalized, the disenfranchised, those no one cares about; then love them and touch them and be Christ to them. Consider the example of William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army.  Each Christmas, there was a tradition in London: the churches sent out representatives to the streets to invite the poor to the celebration; thousands thronged there.  Anglicans would begin by announcing: “All of you who are Anglicans come with us.”  Catholics would join in: “All who are Catholics come with us.”  The Methodist, the Lutherans, and others would follow suit.  When all the invitations were made, many more people  milled about.  At that point, William Booth would shout to the people: “All of you who belong to no one come with me.”

But there may yet be another way in our time to demonstrate the radical nature of our faith and the mighty power of Christ in a culture not easily moved. I am referring to how believers respond in the West not to persecution, or even to the helpless, but to those times when we face personally face remarkable difficulty with a lasar beam focus on Jesus and His gospel.

Example: recently even secular media have seen the wonder of Christ in the physical suffering of pastor Matt Chandler.  Chandler, the 35 year old pastor of the Village Church, a growing congregation of over 6,000 weekly attenders in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, is currently battling brain cancer. His weekly video updates to his congregation and his response to this ordeal have reached the attention of secular media as well as many within the body of Christ.  AP just released a story about his cancer and his response.  You can read it here :

What if believers facing personal tragedy responded in such a way that in the midst of the pain, Christ is exalted. Many do just that. Most are not well known pastors of large churches, but regular folks who simply love Jesus. But in a Western culture obsessed with consumerism, personal happiness, and the pursuit of OUR best life NOW, the eternal gospel would no doubt shine more brightly if more believers responded to every crisis, from economic to health related, by pointing others to the mission of God and the work of God in Christ for us. We might even magnify our witness if we were honest about the struggles we face in the midst of such difficulty.

So many people without Christ remained unmoved when we merely give them information. We must give them a demonstration of the power of God that causes them to hear our words. Remember what Paul said in I Thessalonians 1:5: “Our gospel did not come to you in word only, but in power, and the Holy Spirit, and with deep conviction, as you saw how we lived among you.”  That is how the gospel caused the Thessalonians to say “Those that have turned the world upside down have come here” (see Acts 17).  As we stand for Christ in the face of personal calamity we too can demonstrate the gospel even while we speak of it to others.

The fight to keep the gospel in front of the perishing will not end until Christ returns. We must help people see the gospel as well as hear it. Michael Green wrote:

Unless there is a transformation of contemporary church life so that once again the task of evangelism is something which is seen as incumbent on every baptized Christian, and is backed up by a quality of living which outshines the best that unbelief can muster, we are unlikely to make much headway through techniques of evangelism. Men will not believe that Christians have good news to share until they find that bishops and bakers, university professors and housewives, bus drivers and street corner preachers are all alike keen to pass along, however different their methods may be. And then will continue to believe that the church is an introverted society composed of ‘respectable’ people and bent on its own preservation until they see in church groupings and individual Christians the caring, the joy, the fellowship, the self sacrifice, and the openness which mark the early church at its best.

We may find that our best efforts to reach the West for Christ come not in our strength of numbers, our impressive buildings, or our skills of communication, but when we find ourselves most helpless and most dependent not on ourselves, but the Lord of glory Who suffered for us.