In our first reading, from the book of Acts, we hear one of
the earliest stories of the spread of Christian faith. The apostles, Peter,
James, John and the rest have been been preaching and healing, and many have
been drawn to them by their message. The authorities are none too happy. They
thought they had finished with all this nonsense when they killed Jesus, but
within weeks the mission seems to be back on, and even stronger than it had
been, since there were now many more people preaching the message. They arrest
the apostles, but miraculously they are released from prison and rather than
being warned off by their experiences, they seem to be keener than ever on
making themselves heard. Once more they are summoned before the Jewish authorities to answer for
themselves. “We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet here
you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching, and you are determined to bring
this man’s blood on us” Peter
answers for them all. They can’t shut up. Their lives have been changed by
Jesus, and they must bear witness to that change.
These are people who have good news, good news they can’t not
share, good news which others seem to be responding to in numbers. Spreading
their faith seems to be as natural to them as breathing. But what about us?
Many years ago, I was a student at Hull University. In case
you don’t know Hull, the most noticeable thing about it is that it is dead
flat, and as a result, the city planners tended to build their streets broad
and straight. One day as I was walking home along one of these streets I saw in
the far distance an elderly man on a bicycle. The bike looked pretty ancient
too, but he was pedalling along as fast as he could manage as it clanked and
whined beneath him. There was only him and me on this otherwise deserted
street, but I became aware as he got closer that he was shouting something, and
eventually he was close enough for me to make it out. “Believe on the name of
the Lord Jesus and you will be saved, “ he called out – apparently to me, because
there was no one else around – “Have you given your heart to Jesus as Lord and
Saviour?” By the time he got to the end of his little sermonette he had gone
past me, so I didn’t get the chance to tell him that, actually yes, I had. Evidently
there was no time to wait around and a world of sinners needing to hear his
gospel.
I’ve never forgotten that experience, but I’ve never quite
known what to make of it either. I don’t know whether he was systematically
working his way round every street in Hull, or whether this was a one off
declaration, for my ears only. I can say, though, that as a method of
evangelism, it left quite a bit to be desired…
I’m sure we’ve all experienced people trying to spread their
faith in ways which leave us cold, and it’s not just the eccentric street
preachers, whether on a bike or not, who can miss the mark for us. Personally I
am just as averse to the slick presentations that are sometimes on offer, with
a “celebrity” who happens to be a Christian as the draw, or some other crowd
pleasing sideshow to get the punters in before slipping them the message that
Jesus is the answer, even if it has never really been established what the
question is.
Evangelism should be about sharing good news. It is there in
the word itself. That’s what evangelism means – from the Greek euangellion
- good news, so what really makes it
authentic and powerful isn’t the presentation, but the content. If we want to
share good news, first we have to have some, and second we have to know what
our good news is. It has to be good. It has to be news, but most of all it has
to be ours.
The apostles were very clear about their good news. It had been born out of their direct experience of being with Jesus. As they
had travelled with him round Galilee they had heard his message again and
again, and seen him live what he preached; justice for the poor, dignity for
those whom his society disregarded, forgiveness and love, with a way of living
in which the rich and powerful did not have the last word – indeed the only word.
As they had followed him round Galilee, his disciples felt
that they were catching glimpses of God in him, glimpses of the kingdom
promised in the Old Testament, a place of peace where all were valued as the
children of God they really were. When Jesus was crucified, though, it seemed
as if all that had been no more than a delusion, nothing but nonsense. If Jesus
had been right , if he had really had
been speaking God’s truth, then why would God have abandoned him to die on a
cross? Why didn’t he send squadrons of angels to rescue him? It must have all
been a lie, they concluded. If you want to win in life you just have to play by
the rules of the mighty, grab what you can and look out for number one.
But then Easter Sunday happened… We don’t know what Jesus’
disciples saw, what we’d have seen if we’d been there, but whatever it was, it
was powerful enough to make them sure, absolutely utterly sure, that Jesus was alive. They understood that to mean
that God had affirmed his message, that God had not abandoned him, and that he would
not abandon them either as they continued to preach and try to live that
message too. The joy and peace they had found with Jesus in Galilee, the sense
that their lives had suddenly gone from black and white to full vibrant colour,
came flooding back. It was good. It was news – to them and to others. And it
was theirs, something they had experienced first-hand . They saw it and they
touched it, not just, as Thomas was invited to in the flesh and blood of Jesus,
but in the reality of their own transformed lives and the lives of those around
them. In Christ there is a new creation, said Paul – not “will be” but “is”. If
we had asked them what salvation looked like, this is what they would have pointed to – not
a theological theory about getting into heaven when you died, but the
revolution they were living right there and then as they discovered God at work
amongst them, breaking down old barriers, bringing forgiveness and healing, a
new start and new possibilities. It wasn’t an easy way of life, but the early
church grew because in it people saw real love, real hope, real joy, the living
witness of lives that were richer and deeper now.
When I talk to people about what it is that really matters
to them about their faith, I often find that they give me the same sort of
answers. For some their good news, their sense of salvation, has a lot to do with
being part of a community – not a perfect one, but one where people are at
least trying to love one another, trying to treat each other as equals. Where
love is, there is God, says the Bible. Others find their good news in the sense
of mystery they encounter in prayer, the feeling that there is something beyond
them and their immediate concerns supporting them and helping them making sense
of their lives. For many faith is good news because, like those early apostles,
it gives strength and encouragement as they try to build justice, to do what is
right. Often people tell me that they find
– maybe now and then, maybe often – the “peace that passes understanding”, the sense that they are finally spinning on their
true centre, drawing on living water, rooted in good soil – the images vary,
but the sense is the same, a sense of rightness, of purpose, of home-coming to
God.
For me, the longer I go on, the more I feel it is all those
things, and more besides. When I live my life in the framework of faith,
enriched with its stories, nourished in prayer, surrounded by a community of
fellow-travellers, I become more and more the person that I am meant to be.
That doesn’t mean it is easy, or that I don’t have all sorts of doubts, or that
I don’t fail or get fed up, but it becomes something that I can’t just walk
away from, any more than a tree can pull up its roots and go for a stroll.
This isn’t the sort of faith you can declaim from the back
of a bicycle – and you will be glad to hear that I don’t intend to try. Nor can
it be packaged into some glossy presentation – and I’m not going to do that
either. It is something that must simply be lived, and allowed to spill over
into the lives of others, I hope, as the good news in their lives also spills
over into mine.
All those of us who claim to follow Jesus should be able to
say that we are evangelical, in the richest and truest sense of the word, that
we have discovered our good news; not a formula that gets us into heaven when
we die, but something that helps us to live as children of God right now, that
lets the fruit of the Spirit grow in us, the fruit of love, joy, peace ,
patience, kindness , goodness gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. The
question on this second Sunday of Easter is what that good news is for us, and
how others can see it lived out in our lives.
Amen
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