Since Aaron the birthday boy is reading the archives, I though I’d see what I wrote last February, and I came across this post called Bite-Sized Gospel, in which I trash Purpose-Driven Life rather ungraciously (I accidentally just typed “purpose-drivel,” but figured I’d better change it).

Another year into being a part of a small postmodern church, I’m starting to appreciate bite-sized things, because they are edible. String cheese is edible; a Buick-sized chunk of mozzarella isn’t. Now, forgive the fact that the Gospel is represented by cheese in this little analogy, but I’m starting to think that, in asking for the whole gospel, all at once, not broken into little bits, I may have ordered more than I can chew.

My reaction to the gospel these days is often something like what Michael Horton (in Church in Emerging Culture: Five Perspectives) calls a “hopelessly indeterminate” gospel. There is room for awe when we stand before God and the Gospel, but that awe must not leave us walking around with our mouths hanging open all the time, wondering what to do next.

We talked about evangelism a bit at church today, and, while the discussion didn’t get too far before it was time to go, it raised the question for me: how should we think of people with whom we are attempting to share the Gospel? What should our attitude toward non-Christian friends and acquantainces be? Some popular choices:

• Pity
• Disapproval
• Sadness
• Disgust

I’m not very satisfied with any of these options. Is it two-faced to treat people well when you’re with them, but secretly disapprove of them and hope they change and become Christians? On the other hand, though, it would be (is?) equally bad for Christians to walk around expressing disapproval to everyone they meet. But neither is an “I’m OK, you’re OK” attitude the solution, because I know I’m not OK, and I’d be surprised if everyone else was a whole lot better. The evening news should tell us that much. We need a reference point beyond ourselves.

So there are two perspectives, if I may be allowed to simplify things for a moment. The Christian sees non-Christians as incomplete, in need of Christ and of changing their lives to conform to Christ. The non-Christian sees Christians as people who have a problem with everyone that isn’t a Christian, yet doesn’t think of Christians as being all that much better anyway. Clearly, this leaves a gap that will not easily be crossed, making dialogue (much less conversion) much less likely.

So, to my non-Christian friends who may read this, I hope the best for you. I hope that I and the other Christians in your life treat you with respect, and honor friendship, and not use it for coercive or manipulative religious tactics. I hope that I and other Christians can live out the gospel the way we were meant to, righting the wrongs which history reminds us were perpetrated by Christians as much as non-Christians. I hope that we will not look down on you for not being a Christian, but I hope that we will continue to hope that you will come to trust in Christ. I hope that our words and actions will demonstrate that we’re at least partially justified in thinking that faith in Christ is a better way.

I also hope the best for the world we live in, and this hope, together with my hopes for each of our lives, converges on what I perceive to be the good news of Christ. I believe that when individuals commit to Christ and live out his good news, the world benefits (rather than being left behind with the dregs after the Christians take off for a better world, which I don’t see as part of the good news of Christ at all). I hope that more and more people will become followers of Christ and do what he intended for them to do, which involves doing a great deal of good for the world.

I do not expect, nor even secretly wish, that you will come to me for neatly packaged answers to life’s questions, or that you will come to have exactly the same beliefs I have. I do hope, however, that your inquiry into the meaning of life (and into finding meaning in life) will lead you in the direction of Christ, and that your experience with Christ and Christianity will lead you into commitment to Christ, and in turn that your commitment to Christ would be greatly beneficial to yourself and those around you. I respect your right to make your own decisions and to come to different conclusions about life’s important questions, though, so I will understand if you do not end up as a follower of Christ. I will of course not think this is the best outcome, but neither will I use it as an excuse to treat you badly or think badly of you. I will simply think that you are missing out on something very, very good.

As for myself, I suppose I will continue to my attempts at living out the good news that Christ came to present and make possible. And I probably will need to approach the gospel in bite-sized chunks, because I’m not that good at dealing with such a complex subject all at once. But sometimes I like to step back and take it all in, standing in awe of the beauty of creation, the wisdom of the scriptures, the goodness of God, the emotion and meaning of life, the capriciousness and danger of the physical world, the joy of relationships. The gospel touches all of these areas of human existence, and I - I can only take in so much at a time.

Long posts like this tend to not get much discussion, but feel free to dissect what I’ve written. I’m interested in teasing out some of these ideas more. –Justin