They want to know, “Why does believing in God matter?” or “How has it changed your life?”
They want an answer that’s authentic, heartfelt, and real.
But Mead, a plenary speaker today June at the Evangelism and Church Growth Conference – part of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)’s Big Tent gathering in Georgia – said many Presbyterians would just as soon not get involved in evangelism at all.
“Evangelism violates the norms of our culture,” Mead said. Christians know “it will costs them to say anything about Jesus, even to invite people to church.” So they’d rather leave all that to their minister, because “people already think pastors are weird, and that’s what we pay them for.”
But God thinks of each Christian as a potential evangelist – the Bible is full of instructions about sharing the gospel. “Evangelism, witnessing for Christ, is an amateur activity,” Mead said. “You don’t hire people to do that. It’s not your pastor’s job. … You are the missionary, the witness, that Jesus has sent there” in the workplaces, the family reunions, the schools, and neighborhoods.
In those places, “people are watching how you treat people, and you are making a witness, like it or don’t, unless you manage to keep it a secret that you go to church.”
Mead encouraged people to prepare themselves for opportunities to share their faith. “Take time to know your Bible, take time to find out what you believe about Jesus.” Read the Bible, pray, consider how your life has changed because of your faith – how you’d answer, “Why do you believe?”
And “develop a heart for the people who are in God’s heart,” Mead said. “Have your heart break for these people” – not only the poor or marginalized, but also the successful business executive who thinks problems can be solved by writing a big enough check or knowing the right people.
But sometimes churches would rather leave things as they are – even if the congregation is ever-shrinking – than to change a thing.
“Their eyes are turned in on themselves, their hearts are turned in on themselves,” Mead said. A friend who served as an executive presbyter used to put it pretty bluntly when he visited such congregations. He’d tell them: “This church is going to die. … You’re going to grow old and die together. The last person can shut off the lights.”
Or “your church is going to die because it grows,” and with that growth comes change – so the church they have known and loved will have to become something different.
“Why don’t you just pick the form of death you prefer,” Mead’s friend would say. “One of them is like life.”
