Guilt for not praying and studying the Bible is only one of the spooks haunting the hallways of Christians’ minds. This unfriendly ghost has cousins–co-conspirators that work to keep you quiet and defeated. Every time the prospect of giving voice to your faith in Christ presents itself, the ghosts of Failure, Inadequacy, and Hypocrisy flit past your ear, whispering the lines that have worked so well ever since Saint Peter chickened out by a campfire near Calvary.
The ghost of Failure leads off with a whisper, dredging up memories of the few attempts you made right after you became a Christian:
- You got completely tongued-tied.
- He brought up questions you couldn’t answer.
- She got mad and has avoided you ever since.
- You hate knocking on doors.
The sound of forty pounds of wood slamming in your face is still fresh in your mind, when Inadequacy steps up to tell you you’re just not cut out for this, pointing out very good reasons for you to keep quiet:
- You’re not a good speaker.
- You don’t even understand the Bible yourself.
- You’re the last person your dad (cousin, brother) would listen to.
- You can’t take confrontation.
Finally, Hypocrisy chimes in, irritated with you for even bringing up such a ridiculous idea, in light of your obvious lack of ability and clear record of failure. Its tone is outright accusatory. Why pretend?
- You still wrestle with your own doubts.
- You have enough trouble with your own dirty mind.
- Your brothers have seen you at your worst; they know all your faults.
- You’ve lived next door for twelve years and never once mentioned God. What gives you the right to start now?
As quickly as it came to you, the idea of sharing your Christian faith makes tracks for the pit of your stomach, where it will remain suppressed until you meet someone else who needs the God you know. Then you’ll rehearse the same little episode again, feeling ever more the failure, as Guilt pedals through the cycle faster each time.
It would be nice to say these lines are all just devilish lies. But most of them are probably true, which is why they’re so effective. The Enemy of our souls is not opposed to the truth if he can make it do the work of a lie. But the truth about us is not the ultimate problem. The problem is the lie that Satan sneaks in with those ugly but accurate observations about you. Like the prize in a box of caramel corn, it’s hidden in every one. Here it i:
You’ll never change. God wants you to, but you can’t.
Most of us swallow this one whole, accepting it as an immutable fact on the grounds that we know ourselves better than anyone else. But we’re wrong. God knows you and me better than we know ourselves. And He will change us as we spend time enjoying the pleasure of His company, and going about our daily lives just plain liking and caring for people.
Even if all these obstacles are overcome, we’re still left facing one big hurdle: the hello-do-you-know-Jesus kind of witnessing feels like an unnatural act for most men. We instinctively see it as an act of aggression, and therefore something to avoid. Television’s Jay Leno once described a group of Christians who knocked on his door to ask him if he knew Jesus. “For a minute,” he mugged, “I was afraid they were going to try and gang-save me!” It’s a crude joke, but it sheds light on the way well-meaning Christians often are perceived. If a Catholic sister held a gun on you, your feelings would be mainly in reaction to the gun, not the nun.
As for me, I’d rather go golfing. Tee-to-green is better than door-to-door on any day of my year. Besides, the golf course is probably a better place to share your faith than ten inches away from someone’s screen door, which is an owner-installed device to keep pests out. Out on the fairway the scenery is gorgeous, and the footing is equal.
Okay, the middle of a golf game may or may not be ideal. (You don’t want to ruin your partner’s putting while saving his soul.) But the point remains: it is a great first step if you’re not comfortable going up on a stranger’s porch. And more natural, which means you’re more likely to say what you really want to say in the way you want to say it. Indeed, God has given us a brilliant “pre-qualifying” device, especially for winning people to Christ.
It’s called friendship. Now, find a friend and go get a burger.