The Art of Coming Alongside

by Rev. L. John Gable

The Art of Coming Alongside by Rev. L. John Gable
October 28, 2018

Several weeks ago I was asked to make a video explaining the history of the Christian Church for our communicant’s class and I was happy to do so; I make a similar presentation to our Inquirer’s classes.  My goal is always to tell 2000 years of church history in a short enough period of time that I won’t lose the attention span of our new members, much less a group of teenagers.  So Dave Streit and I met here in the sanctuary and I started off: birth of Jesus, ministry/cross/ resurrection – all stories told in the Gospels; the Day of Pentecost, the giving of the Holy Spirit and the growth of the church as told in the book of Acts; years of Roman persecution and the dispersion of new believers around the Mediterranean basin; Paul taking the Gospel to Europe; the Emperor Constantine’s conversion in 312 AD and Christianity becoming the official religion of the Roman Empire bringing an official end to the persecution; the Church councils writing the Apostle’s and Nicene Creeds and the growth of the monastic movement.  We get to the split of the Church – East/West- in 1054 and I was on a roll, but then we get to the time of Crusades, a dark and inexplicable part of our story, and I hardly know what to say, so I say almost nothing at all and simply move on.

It is hard to image the missionary zeal during the time of the Crusades, 1099-1291 AD, that caused the Good News of the Gospel, the proclamation of the love and saving grace of Jesus Christ, to be denigrated and disfigured into a genocide of conquest rather than conversion.  The Word of God literally became a “two edged sword” as people were massacred and lands were conquered all in the name of Christ and His Church.  That period of history is surely a stain on the Body of Christ and our witness to the world.

Now, I don’t want to exaggerate this point, but in recent weeks as we have been talking about the role of evangelism and faith-sharing, as we have read and discussed Rob Schrumpf’s book, Living the Gospel in the Grey together, I continue to have images of examples of evangelism techniques that seem to resemble more closely the Crusader methods than they do the “sharing of really Good News.”  Conversations become debates and arguments to be won, and people become objects to be conquered or manipulated rather than wayward children who need to know the love of God.

Perhaps you, like I, can think of many instances when I have seen “evangelism” – remember the word comes from the Greek word “euangelion” which means to “tell Good News”, done poorly.  One experience stands out clearly in my mind.  In 1976 I went with to two friends to the Montreal Olympics.  One afternoon I was walking through a city park when I heard shouting coming from bullhorns and looked to see a crowd gathered around a central fountain.  The “bull horners” were Christians “proclaiming” the love of Jesus, literally “yelling” at people as they walked past, accusing them of sins and ungodly living, condemning them to eternal punishment outside the love of God, all in the name of Jesus.  I was a Christian at the time, but had never seen anything like this.  I understood their motives, their desire to share the love of Jesus, but was horrified by their methods.  I didn’t, but I found myself wanting to, walk up to people, perfect strangers, and apologize for what they were being subjected to.  I wanted to tell them that I too believed in Jesus, but knew only His love and acceptance, not the fear and rejection and threat of eternal damnation that was being spewed at them.  Instinctively I knew that “that way” was not “my way” to share my faith, but that there must be “another way” and I suspect you feel the same.  The problem is, too often as we reject that style of evangelism as “not being our way”, we fail to take the next step to discover what “our way” of evangelism, of sharing the Good News, really is.

I’ve always loved the story that one day a woman approached the famed evangelist Dwight L. Moody and said, “I don’t like the way you do evangelism.”  Unperturbed, Moody asked, “Tell me, madam, how do you do evangelism?”  She briskly answered, “I don’t do evangelism!”   To which he replied, “Then I like the way I do do evangelism better than the way you don’t do evangelism.”  If we are convinced that “one way” is not “our way”, then, in response to Jesus’ Great Commission, we must seek to discover or develop “another way” that we can and will use to share the Good News of Jesus with others.  Rob’s book is very helpful in this discovery as it articulates a new way to share our faith, a way of “coming along side” and our lesson from Acts this morning models it perfectly.

This story in Acts 8 takes place during a time shortly after Pentecost when the Christian Gospel is being spread and shared with formerly unreached “people groups”, in this case with the Samaritans by an evangelist named Philip, not the Apostle Philip, but one of the first chosen Deacons.

Philip is directed by the Spirit to go south/southwest from Jerusalem toward Gaza on the “wilderness road”, so called because it cuts across the Negev desert, surely a lonely and lightly traveled road.  As he is going he comes upon an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who is traveling in a caravan.  We don’t know much about this man, but we can surmise he is a person of influence, the chief in charge of the queen’s treasury; he is wealthy, he has an entourage and a copy of the scroll of Isaiah, a precious commodity; and he is well-educated, because we are told he is reading out loud, a common practice and social responsibility in a pre-literate age.  He was coming from Jerusalem where he had made a pilgrimage to the temple to worship the God of the Jews, so while not a Jew, he was a “God fearer”; today we would call him a “seeker”.

As Philip neared, the Spirit instructed him to “Go over to this chariot and join it.”  Another way to say that would be to “come along side it”, which is exactly what Philip did.  I don’t know how the Spirit was communicating with Philip, but this is good encouragement for us to act on our promptings and instincts.  God shows up in very unexpected places.

So, Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading from the prophet Isaiah.  Now listen to the conversation that unfolds because it gives us good guidance for “faith sharing” conversations we can engage in.  Philip opens by asking a question, not making a statement.  He didn’t start with, “Excuse me, but I just happen to be one of the first seven ever chosen to be a Deacon in what is now being called the Christian Church.  I’d be happy to explain that passage to you if you’d like.”  No, he didn’t lead with a statement but with a question, “Do you understand what you are reading?”  Opening statements can put people on the defensive, back on their heels of suspicion; opening questions invite conversations. I have told you before I often open what unfolds to be a faith sharing conversation with the innocuous, “How are you doing today?”  It is amazing how people will open up if you actually take an interest in them.   Too often we want to talk, but Philip here reminds us that we are better to start by listening.  We can’t know what answer to give if we don’t know what question is being asked.  Jesus may be the answer, but it sure helps to know the question first.

So Philip asks, “Do you understand what you are reading?” and the Ethiopian replies, “How can I, unless someone guides me?”  This man is inviting Philip in to a conversation, and even more than that he invites him in to his chariot with him so that they can talk at length.  Now, it just so happens, what we might call a “holy coincidence”, that the man is reading a passage from Isaiah, “Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter, and like a lamb silent before its shearer, so he does not open his mouth.  In his humiliation justice was denied him.  Who can describe his generation?  For his life is taken away from the earth.”

After hearing the passage the man asks the question which invites and allows Philip to share the Gospel story when he asks, “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” He knows Isaiah is talking about a “someone”, he just doesn’t know “who”.  And this becomes the perfect opportunity for Philip to explain who Jesus is and what He came to do, to be the sacrificial Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.  Friends, it is such a great, God-given, privilege to be invited in to a conversation such as this.  We should seek and pray for these kinds of opportunities and then be open and ready for them when they come.  We don’t know exactly how Philip shared the Gospel, but we do know this is the first Christian sermon preached outside of Jerusalem, and it had its desired effect.

As they were going along the road, they came to some water; and the eunuch said, “Look, here is water! (Remember they are traveling through the Negev desert, what are the chances of that happening?  Another “holy coincidence”.)  “What is to prevent me from being baptized?”  Philip responded, “Great idea!  Let me contact the Session and find a date that we can work it in to the worship service, then we’ll arrange for …”  No, they ordered the caravan to stop and both of them, Philip and the man, went down in to the water and Philip baptized him.

I love that story, on so many different levels, but can you hear the guidance and the permission it gives us when we engage in faith sharing conversations?  Philip was responsive, not only to the prodding of the Spirit, but also to the man with whom he was “coming along side”.  Look again at the story.  Every step of the way it is the man, the Ethiopian eunuch, who is inviting Philip to continue on, to go deeper, to tell him more, to the point at the end of the encounter that he told Philip, “I want what you have…baptize me!”

Friends, not every faith sharing conversation unfolds or ends up like this one, and we set up false expectations when we think that they do or should.  But every conversation we have with someone in which we have the opportunity to share the story of our faith and our experience with Jesus can have this kind of “feel.”  In this story Philip is suddenly “whisked away”, sometimes we too only have that brief encounter with another and then our paths go in separate directions, but still “faith has been shared.”  This then is the “other way” to do evangelism that I was looking for back in Montreal in 1976, the kind of evangelism I have come to practice in my own life and ministry.

Evangelism is not so much talking as it is listening.  Not so much selling as it is sharing.  Not so much debating as it is discussing.  Not so much persuading as it is praying.  Not so much conquering or convicting or convincing as it is engaging, and then allowing the Holy Spirit take over.  I had a professor in seminary who became a friend and mentor.  He said his desire at the conclusion of any faith sharing conversation was for the other person to say, “I hope we can talk about this again.”  How different is that than the experience we all have had of trying to back-peddle our way out of a conversation with someone who wants to “force feed” us with faith and get us to make a confession right on the spot?  “I hope we can talk about this again.”

I’ll close with this beautiful teaching from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians.  Here he explains his motivation for sharing the Gospel by writing, “Our appeal does not spring from deceit or impure motives or trickery.  It is not to please mortals, but only to please God.” Then he closes with these words which I hope reflect not only his motives, but also mine and yours as well: “So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.”

That desire lies at the heart of what it means to “come along side” someone.  I share this Good News with you because I love God and I love you, and I want you to know that God loves you and He wants to “come along side” you.  Amen.