Speaking of Jesus to Our Colleagues
Dinnie shares her struggle with evangelism and how, despite that, God continues to use her as a tool to point her fellow workers-turned-friends to Christ.
I have always considered evangelism the most challenging part of the Christian life.
I suppose that is because I buy very much into the modern-day notion that our beliefs are up to us to determine, and any kind of external imposition, or any suggestion that one’s present beliefs deserves reconsideration, is always unpalatable, always unwelcome.
But these modern-day sensibilities are antithetical to the gospel. The gospel is a necessary message. It is an urgent call to turn away from sin and turn to Christ; the very—yes, only—antidote to the curse of humanity. And the premise of the gospel inherently offends—it is an affront to sinners in rebellion against God, and who do not yet see themselves as such. So gospel proclamation is necessarily intrusive. But if we are ever to see the need for grace, if we are ever to apprehend why the gospel is not bad, but good, news, evangelism is indispensable.
How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!" (Romans 10:14-15)
These verses shake me every time. They remind me of the sober, stark reality that God, in His full wisdom and perfect sovereignty, has chosen to use the most imperfect of beings—sinful mankind, us!—to proclaim the good news to others. That is the primary means; that is His plan!
For all my apprehension and instinctive intellectual opposition towards evangelism, I have noticed that, over the years, as I grow as a Christian, God does place in my heart clear burdens for the salvation of specific ones. These are hardly self-generated; they arise and press on me inwardly; they recur, again and again, and I know they are His means of grace in letting me partake in the Shepherd’s compassion towards lost sheep.
It could be specific people groups (like Japan, which is close to my heart), or individuals (like the 82-year-old granny who lives next door and with whom we exchange an endless stream of snacks).
Or like two colleagues-turned-friends of mine.
We started out as mere colleagues—cordial, guarded, transactional. Over the past year or so, I have come to consider the both of them dear friends. With intentionality and frequency of companionship, we have learned to understand one another quite well, both our at-work quirks and temperaments, joys and frustrations, as well as our off-work selves—what we enjoy doing, our partners, and in my case, my sisters and sisters’ husbands and sister’s kiddo and sister’s puppy and neighbourhood cat too. So, we do know one another pretty well.
Yet I always feel there is an impenetrable barrier between me and them, and that is Christianity. I know that they cannot really be genuinely close friends if they don't know a core part of who I am, was, and will become, and what I am pinning my life, my death, and my eternity, on. And if they are not privy to any of that, then how skin-deep is this friendship in fact?
Moreover, I find it incredibly onerous to speak of Christianity and everything that it encompasses to non-Christians. First, I don't want them to instinctively assume that I am trying to “convert them”—I don't want to be the insensitive, pushy Christian who speaks with truth but not with love or grace. Second, I recognise the sheer gulf, not only in content, but also in our spiritual sights, that render it almost an impossible language. I know that neither of these need be barriers. But in my default, defeatist state, I simply surmise it is impossible, a lost cause! Why bother? (Or so I, wrongly, think.)
Once more, in God’s tender patience, He graciously ordained an occasion for me to describe rather concretely what the gospel was to both of these friends. It was a sleepover night. At the behest of one of them, we started playing We're Not Really Strangers—some group conversation cards to spark deeper talk. When it came to my turn, the topic naturally veered towards my convictions.
I recall initially wanting to be squeamish, but also realising that such opportunities are not to be taken lightly. So I articulated the gospel. I zoomed in on God conferring Jesus’ righteousness upon us. I gave this Singaporean-accessible metaphor (of you scoring 0% on your test, some other kid getting 100%, and your teacher swapping the report cards so you end up getting 100% and that kid takes on your 0%). It was not a perfect metaphor, but it got the point across: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Cor 5:21)
Between the two of them, one said it was the first time she heard the gospel explained this way (contrasted with the more belligerent in-your-face messages she had heard in the past); the other said she had to think more deeply about it. As far as evangelism was concerned, I see myself as having already been faithful to the commission at hand.
It's been months since we've had that conversation, and months more of friendship. I still feel deeply for the both of them. And I continue to seek out opportunities to speak sensitively of these weightier, eternal matters with them, to listen to and understand where they are.
I will transit out of my present job early next year, and with that, our regular opportunities to interact will naturally diminish. I pray that, in His will, He may continue to use me as a tool to point my fellow sinners to Christ the only Saviour, and I hope, one day, by His mercy, to find them fellow saints in His kingdom.
---
This is the second part of our series on Speaking of Jesus to Our... In the first part, Fellisia writes on our ministry with Gladiolus Place and our desire to share the hope we have in Christ with the girls staying just next door.
Do also attend this Sunday's (17 Dec) EQUIP's series on Speaking of Jesus which will address how to deal with barriers and common objections to the gospel. Room 516–519 at 11am.