Oh sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth! Sing to the LORD, bless his name; tell of his salvation from day to day. (Psalm 96:1-2)
Just this past week, I noticed a trend during our Wednesday evening service. In keeping with our harvest-emphasis, I gave the small group of gathered believers opportunity to share about any successes or rejections they had experienced thus far in their attempts to share their faith with their friends or even invite them to church. A few individuals began to share testimonies that really made me rejoice as a pastor. One shared about his diligent attempts to connect with a friend who is under heavy conviction in order that he might share the gospel in-depth with this friend for whom he has prayed for years. It was exciting to hear this man’s passion and desire for his friend’s salvation. Another shared an incident from earlier that afternoon when, in the course of stopping by a repair-shop, he engaged a man in a conversation that led into a deeper discussion of religious matters. He offered to pray for the man concerning some of his trials and invited the man to attend our church soon. Again, I was glad to hear this report simply because it reflected an intentional desire to engage a total stranger, to listen to their problems, to offer to pray, and to invite them to church. Granted, I would love to see these engagements result in a full-blown sharing of the gospel, but I will rejoice nonetheless.
Both of these men encouraged me with their stories of sharing and engaging. But what I noticed that challenged me so much was the sense of exotic awe with which the rest of us listened. We listened as if we were hearing strange, exotic, reports from a faraway places. Now don’t get me wrong, I am glad that we were listening intently, but my concern is with the fact that we listened as if we hadn’t heard this kind of sharing in years. Ulitmately, we were carried away by these men’s words and stories precisely because their stories were so strange to us. We are so unaccustomed to sharing our faith in our daily life and reporting these accounts to others for prayer that when we do intentionally share, it feels almost prideful, and as if we have really accomplished something special for the Lord.
And that’s what troubles me.
Again, don’t get me wrong. There was no pride or wrong intention in the hearts of these men sharing, in fact, they were sharing in response to my request to do so. But why is it that sharing our faith has become so rare that hearing stories like these sound so alien to us?
The Psalmist tells us that telling others of our deliverance should be a day to day occurrence. It should be a natural response to the presence of Christ in our lives. In fact, rather than the occasional “sharing story” being rare, circumstances in the life of the Christian should be the exact opposite. Instead, the day when we DON’T share Christ’s love to someone else verbally should be the rare occasion. Instead of witnessing the gospel to the lost once every thirty days or so, there shouldn’t be more than one out of thirty days in which we don’t share Christ with the lost.
Sharing Christ with the lost and telling others of God’s deliverance shouldn’t feel like such a rare, exotic occasion. While it should certainly be exciting whenever we hear of a witnessing encounter, that excitement and those reports should be the rule rather than the exception.
So how is it with you? Do you tell others of God’s deliverance in Christ from day to day? If given the opportunity to testify about a witnessing encounter this week, would you have one to tell? Or would you sit back and listen with amazement as someone else told of an encounter and think to yourself, “boy, I sure wish I could open my mouth and share Christ like so and so does…”
Wake up church. We cannot afford to sit in silence any longer. Tell someone today of Jesus and his love.
