Acts 8:4 – therefore those who had been scattered went about preaching the word.
Which side of a pair of scissors is more important? Which wing on an airplane do you need most? In a rowboat, which side needs the oar most? I hope these are rhetorical questions for you, or else we need to talk.
During my pre-ministry life, when I worked in a handful of different jobs to pay my way through Bible college, I have to admit that the above questions weren’t so obvious for me.
I would go to classes and study the Bible, theology, Greek, church leadership… and then I would get my uniform on and serve tables, cook, work a shift…etc. As I interacted with other employees, I became great friends with many of them, and almost everyone knew I was going to school to be a pastor. Knowing this, and seeing my good Christian behavior, they all lined up to hear me share the gospel. I really wish it happened that way (and yes, I was a pretty good Christian). I was not afraid to talk about my faith, and I even discussed it with other Christians as we had opportunity. The other people, however, who were not Christians, respected me and would apologize to me if they ever said a bad word or inappropriate joke around me. They warned each other that I would be the one standing at the pearly gates deciding who would go in and who wouldn’t.
I honestly felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to, knowing 1 Peter 3:15 – but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect,
This is a wonderful verse, but the only problem is that… they don’t ask. I am sure they did in Peter’s day. People were being martyred, miracles were happening, and everyone was very curious about this new “way” as it was called. In my jobs, however, no one ever came to me and asked me how to go to heaven, or who Jesus was. Some would occasionally bring up something, but usually for the purpose of starting a debate. I don’t know that they weren’t interested, but the waiting game was not making a difference.
In the verse at the top, from Acts 8, the people were scattered because they were being persecuted in Jerusalem. They went to Judea, to Samaria, eventually to the ends of the earth (Sound familiar?). As they were scattered, they preached. I don’t know that they got up in a church and after the worship team finished five songs, and the kids were dismissed, that they gave a three-point message. “Preach” means to proclaim, or tell. It is simply communicating an important message. As people went, they told. They certainly lived their faith also, but for them, that wasn’t enough. They knew they needed to show and tell. One without the other doesn’t work well, like half a pair of scissors, or one oar, or one wing on a plane…
In my last full-time job before my first pastorate, I had already been working there for several months before I decided to be more intentional about telling others about my faith. I figured that it would be a long time before I would work side-by-side with so many who didn’t go to church. I admit that I was motivated more out of obligation than love, but it wasn’t long before that changed. I prepared for my martyrdom knowing that I would be killed, fired, or at the very least hated for telling my co-workers about Jesus. I didn’t do it on company time, but individually during lunch, coffee breaks, or after work. Since I was already a friend with them, it was not awkward to invite them to talk with me. I intentionally led the conversations to ask them about their spiritual viewpoints, and then told them what I believed, and how to get to heaven. Within a week and a half, I had “witnessed” to over a dozen people, and lived through it. In fact, all of them appreciated it, and asked lots of questions. I gave Bibles to a few of them, and though I only worked a few months longer there, all of our friendships deepened greatly. One guy even asked me to do his wedding (I had to decline).
I have to admit, I didn’t enjoy working in factories, restaurants, or stores all that much, but God put me in those places, which meant I was entrusted with a divine responsibility to share with my co-workers about my hope. We didn’t keep in contact after I left, and so I don’t know where they are now, but I know that I did what I was called to do and if I get to see them in heaven someday, I know beyond all doubt, that the thrill will vastly outweigh the fear I went through in that factory lunchroom.
