To some degree the shepherd looks after the sheep, while the sheep give birth to the lambs. But then again, if evangelism isn’t happening in our lives, it probably won’t happen much in the church.
—Calvin C. Ratz
Paul told Timothy, “Do the work of an evangelist,” and ever since, evangelism has belonged in a pastor’s job portfolio. But how exactly do we go about evangelism as pastors?
Some pastors actually do little personal evangelism. They figure they have plenty of pressing tasks just to provide spiritual leadership for the church. Evangelism is something members can do. So they encourage evangelism, but don’t necessarily participate in it.
To some degree the shepherd looks after the sheep, while the sheep give birth to the lambs. But then again, if evangelism isn’t happening in our lives, it probably won’t happen much in the church. So although we’re not singlehandedly responsible for the rescue of souls, I believe we’ve got to be involved.
It’s been said, “A student learns what his teacher knows, but a disciple becomes what his master is.” My people will not become what I say they should be; they’ll become what they see is important in my life. And that’s true with evangelism.
People want to be led, to be inspired, to be challenged. Pastors who lead their churches into evangelism do it primarily by example, by modeling, by making evangelism a priority.
Reluctant Models
Yet for various reasons, pastors may shy away from talking about personal experiences. For example, I hesitate to talk about my personal evangelistic activity because sometimes I’m afraid of embarrassing new converts; I don’t want to spotlight them until I can see that their conversions have stuck. Many excellent sermon illustrations occupy the pews each Sunday, but I can’t use them. It’s much the same with evangelism illustrations; I hesitate to dig up a seed to display its growth.
I overcome that hesitancy by telling stories only at the appropriate time and with the necessary permission. For example, I’ve used the story of one young man who grew up in our church. When I first came to the church, he attended, but sometimes he’d slip out of church and have a beer in the parking lot. I took a liking to this young farmer and enjoyed talking with him. One day I asked him, “When are you going to get married?”
“I can’t get married. Pastor,” he replied bluntly. “I gotta marry a Christian girl, and I’m not a Christian. So I can’t get married until I get saved. And I’m not ready to get saved.”
Over the weeks, I shared my faith with him and asked if he wanted to make a commitment. He wasn’t ready. But one day over coffee—a day we hadn’t been talking about salvation—he said to me, “Okay. I want to get right,” and we prayed there. After that, he became deeply involved in the church, and just a few weeks ago, he married a young Christian woman.
I let his story be told when he was baptized, but I let him do the telling. The story was told another time when I interviewed him in a service. On both occasions, then, I was able to model how evangelism was a part of my life while not embarrassing a new Christian.
Why the desire to trumpet my involvement in this man’s life? It’s because I’ve learned that modeling is not so much what I do as what I’m perceived to be doing.
Let me explain. People don’t know what pastors do. Often they think we’re doing things we’re not actually doing, such as spending the whole day in blissful contemplation of Scripture for hours on end. Conversely, they miss many of the things I actually do. I may be witnessing to many people throughout the week, but if people think I’m doing something else, I’m not modeling evangelism. Somehow I must help them perceive correctly what I am actually doing. It’s important to let people know what actually is taking place in my witness. I cannot assume they know.
A second reason we hesitate to talk about our evangelism is because we don’t want to seem presumptuous. We know our inadequacies; we’re not the evangelists we should be. That can make us feel inadequate as models, and so we shy away from saying, “Follow me, as I follow Christ.” It’s too intimidating.
But people will follow us whether we admit it or not. It’s not a question of “Am I going to be a model?” The question is, “What kind of a model will I be?” I’ve got to recognize the messages I’m preaching when I’m not in the pulpit.
Even the fact that sometimes I am a poor model of evangelism may be used for good. At times I simply let the congregation know I share many of their experiences and feelings about evangelism.
I’ll often talk about times I muffed an opportunity to witness. For instance, I was aboard a flight out of Toronto a few years ago—the same flight that the day before had crashed. As we were about to take off, the lady next to me said, “D-d-did y-you h-h-hear what happened yesterday?” I noticed her hands were white. I reassured her, but I didn’t mention God. When I got off the flight, I thought, Why didn’t I share my faith with her? It was a perfect opportunity, but I never capitalized on it.
I also tell people, “Look, I’m as scared as you are to witness on a one-to-one basis. Behind the pulpit I have plenty of confidence, but when I’m stripped of that security, I’m as vulnerable as anybody else. It’s no easier for me to talk to the person in the restaurant or my neighbor than it is for you. I struggle with the same inhibitions.”
People can identify with that. Being transparent, being honest, telling the good as well as the bad—this gives more credibility to the successes we share.
Furthermore, as a pastor, some things work against me when I try to witness. Some people think, He’s just a preacher trying to convert me.
The first time I met the neighbor who lives in back of us, he said, “I understand you’re a preacher. I just want you to know I’m the only sinner on the block.” He was really saying, “Keep your distance.” I later learned another Christian had pursued him obnoxiously. Since I was a pastor, I was automatically suspect.
Ministers have received bad press recently. Therefore, fearing opposition or misunderstanding because of my position, it’s easy not to make the effort to witness. I easily become too self-conscious.
Yet, being a pastor can be an advantage. It certainly helps me answer questions more easily. I’m not afraid of what people may ask or the direction a conversation might take. Pastoral training serves me in good stead.
I also have many opportunities to witness. After all, the gospel is my vocation. I get paid to do what most people have to do on the side. Inquirers come to me even if I don’t seek them out. People refer friends to me. Christianity comes up in routine social conversations about my occupation. I have ample opportunity to talk about my faith—if I don’t let deficient spiritual self-esteem hinder me.
Intentional Modeling
Even though I am sometimes a poor model, I aim to model well. So I practice what I call intentional modeling to distinguish what I want to do from the merely passive, inactive influence I usually have.
What do I want to say with my life about evangelism? That life is short, eternity is long, Jesus can make a difference in it all, and I’m responsible for getting that message to others. I want my life to be an example that all these factors are utterly true.
I also want to model that evangelism is enjoyable, not something dreadful and threatening but nonetheless necessary. To do that, I tell stories about the joy of seeing a life transformed by Christ, the gratitude of people who thank us for sharing Christ, and the satisfaction of leading someone to Christ for eternity! Nothing compares to that. And I try to communicate that feeling.
But if I’m going to model that joy intentionally, I have to do five things as a pastor.
First, evangelism must be a personal priority for me. If I don’t live it, I can’t preach it with conviction.
As a pastor, I can wrap myself with activities that deal solely with Christians. So it’s easy to justify a lack of time for personal evangelism: I have to write a sermon or visit the saints. There just aren’t many evenings left to invite neighbors and friends over.
So, I deliberately place myself in situations in which I can talk to people about Christ. Such situations, by God’s grace, arise in the normal flow of the ministry; I just have to learn to take advantage of them.
A while back a young couple came to worship. I noticed them during the service, not merely because they were new, but from their rapt attention—they didn’t take their eyes off me when I was preaching. After the service, I met them. We talked briefly, and I asked, “Can we get together sometime?”
“We’d love to,” the man said.
I met them that week in a restaurant for lunch. They were searching for something in life, it turned out, but they hadn’t found it. We talked about faith, and I asked, “Are you ready to accept Jesus into your lives?”
They looked around and said, “Here?”
“What better place?” I said. So we held hands, and over half-filled coffee cups, they each prayed to receive Christ. Both are now active in the church.
Another opportunity I take advantage of is conversations with newcomers who say, “We used to go to such-and-such church.” I used to assume they were Christians, but I’ve found that often they aren’t. People transferring from other communities are prime candidates, if not for evangelism, at least for a challenge to greater discipleship.
Second, evangelism must be a passionate priority. Passion has to exist—somewhere—for evangelism to work. Paul said, “Christ’s love compels us” (2 Cor. 5:14, Niv). I shouldn’t pastor a church if I can’t demonstrate a passionate care for the lost, because if evangelism doesn’t bubble to the surface in my life, how will others catch the vision to evangelize? I need to be appropriately driven to share the gospel.
Third, intentional modeling requires me to get out of my office. I prefer to manage church affairs, study, and prepare sermons—activities that keep me in an office with the door closed. But I’m not modeling evangelism if I spend an inordinate amount of time away from people. So I’m learning to get out to work with people.
Tom Peters in A Passion for Excellence encourages “management by walking around.” He says a manager should be out of his office a third of the time. I’m learning to pastor by walking around.
The benefits are many. “Peoplework” keeps me fresh and makes me visible. When I’m among people, they can see my priority for evangelism at work. And getting out puts me in contact with non-Christians.
I plan opportunities to be with people, like after church on Sunday evening. That’s a big occasion in our community. And I usually accept invitations to people’s homes, because I can interact with several couples in a relaxed atmosphere.
I find that when I catch people off guard in nonreligious settings, I accomplish a great deal evangelistically. Communication studies show that persuasive communication that comes unexpectedly in an unusual environment has more chance of being effective than if it came at a predictable time from a predictable person.
For instance, if I stand up on Sunday morning and say, “You should pray,” people yawn and think. Well, yeah. We know that. He’s supposed to say that. But if I’m having coffee with the guys and I say, “You know, in the last week the Lord’s been talking to me about praying more for the people I’m trying to bring to the Lord,” ifs powerful.
Some pastors need to be pushed into the study. But I’m the type who needs to get outside the walls of my office to model and practice among others the evangelistic priorities I hold dear.
Fourth, the method must have integrity if my intentional modeling is to be effective. If I go to the Bible for what I believe, I shouldn’t look only to the world for methodology. I’m not against using technology and any other appropriate modern means to spread the gospel, but I also want to be sure to build evangelism on the foundation of love rather than gimmicks.
I could attract a crowd with a Christian cowboy riding an appaloosa pony across the platform, but that is hardly a biblical model of evangelism. I don’t want to sacrifice the integrity of the gospel for the sake of pulling a crowd, or compromise the message in order to make the gospel more palatable.
For example, although we have a strong music program, I refuse to build the church around music. We will grow our own music ministry, but we won’t import one. Certainly we will supplement our ministry at times, but we’re not going to build our outreach on a string of big names and events just to attract the outsider. It is pur church, our people, our program that must attract and hold people’s attention for the gospel to do its work.
Our evangelistic methods should lead people to repentance and faith and a decision to follow Jesus Christ, not just to attend church programs. The church has to be built on biblical principle, and so does the evangelism I model.
Finally, effective intentional modeling requires that I pray about evangelism. This obvious point sometimes gets overlooked. So I try not only to talk prayer, but to do it.
More specifically, I pray for an increase of harvesters. I don’t have to pray for the harvest; it’s there. But the harvesters are few, so they get my prayers. I pray that evangelism will happen through the people of my church.
Personally, I also pray for passion for the lost, for opportunities and courage and faith to grab the opportunities as they come. As I’ve mentioned, I’m reluctant and sometimes discouraged. A friend of mine was distributing food in Ethiopia, and while there he talked to some nuns who did similar work. He asked them, “How do you handle the devastation and the hurt and agony you see day after day?”
One nun replied, “Prayer. If we do not have God in our hearts, nothing else works.” Likewise, only if I have God in my heart will evangelism “work.”
Modeling the Message
Over the years, I’ve learned a difficult lesson: I must not only speak about and model evangelism, I must also model the Good News in my life. Evangelism is not just a technique, but a way of Christian living.
A friend of mine, a public relations officer for a major corporation, was a Christian, but he was living out his faith rather casually. Then he was asked to present a lecture on public relations. He was driving home the point that successful public relations depends on matching a product’s quality with the image the company projects about the product. He talked about going into a large department store that had advertised its friendly, courteous service. But he was treated terribly. The reality didn’t match the image, and the disparity between the public-relations spiel and reality made him angry. But he discovered an application beyond mere public relations.
“Going home from that store,” he told me later, “it was as if the Lord said to me, ‘That’s your life. You’re modeling one thing in church in front of people, but your kids see the reality—and the discrepancy—at home. The product you’re advertising is not matched by the reality.’ I realized that what I show on Sunday has to be backed up by reality. It can’t be phony. Maybe I can get by with a little hype the first couple of years, but soon people see it for what it is. The reality is, I’ve got to produce what I claim to have.”
When it comes to Christian living, none of us will ever be able to model all we should, nor will everything we do come out looking the way we intend. But intentional modeling of evangelism means that the life I live must bear some resemblance to the message I preach.
It’s up to us to set the ideal by the way we talk to people, the tone of voice, the vocabulary we use, the examples we choose, the vulnerability we allow. By these means we can say to our congregations, “Folks, this is what evangelism means. I’m not perfect at it; you’re not perfect. But let’s go on a pilgrimage together. Let’s share the love of Christ with our friends and neighbors, near and far.”
Modeling Comes Full Circle
The eyes of fellow staff members, church leaders, and church members watch my actions and note my words. But after many years of modeling, I’ve begun to notice their actions and words.
For some time, for example, I’ve tried to imprint upon my staff the values and emphases I consider important—evangelism being foremost. I’ve wanted to inspire them as evangelists, not just as managers of programs or departments.
So, as a staff we’ve talked often about evangelism. I’ve made sure it’s a regular agenda item. I’ve also tried to spend much time with my staff, so that in casual conversations staff members pick up what’s important to me.
And I’m starting to see modeling pay off. One of our staff came up with the idea of having a hamburger stand at the local fair. So we put up a tent, cooked hamburgers, and played Christian music nonstop for four days there. That gave us visibility in the community, and the people who were involved ended up getting great training as counselors and hosts and hostesses.
The idea for this activity began when that man—who wasn’t particularly responsible for evangelism in our church—said, “Let’s do something to reach out to the people of our community.” Such ideas now surface regularly at staff meetings.
I’ve seen the same thing happen with our board. As with all boards, ours faces the tensions of balancing the budget, meeting congregational needs, and setting priorities. Naturally, the priority I regularly encourage them to pursue and budget for is evangelism.
Apparently, it’s taken effect. I’ve noticed recently that any time I take to the board a proposal with a legitimate evangelistic twist to it, they’ll go with it. While the board has held a tight rein on expenditures during our recent building program, they haven’t hesitated to spend money on items with an evangelistic payoff. They quickly paid for ten of us to travel 450 miles to a two-day conference on church evangelism. They eagerly footed the bill for an evangelistic luncheon geared to unchurched widows, which eighty-five ladies attended. They gladly agreed to pay for two evangelistic banquets: one directed to the construction workers for our new building, and another for 150 unchurched community leaders.
And although our board is not afraid to let a dated church program die, if the program has evangelistic possibilities, they hesitate, saying, “Hey, evangelism is our lifeblood. Let’s rework the program and revitalize it if possible.”
To put it another way, my staff and board now are prodding me to make the church and its ministries more seeker friendly. They’re evaluating my preaching and schedule to help me be a more evangelistic pastor. They are producing ideas for outreach, novel methods for reaching outsiders, and ways to make our services sensitive to those who are not believers.
Last week, my staff initiated a discussion on how I could improve my preaching to better tune in to today’s unchurched, secular mind. They initiated a lengthy discussion on reformatting our services to strip them of in-house vocabulary and practices that make it difficult for outsiders to accept or understand the gospel.
It’s when my staff and board start pushing me that I know my staff has caught the passion for evangelism that I feel in my heart.
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