This has long been one of my favorite quotes, commonly attributed to St. Francis of Assisi. It's a necessary corrective for the Pat Robertson's and Jerry Falwell's (and Kester Smith's) of the world. For those of us that might be tempted to preach more than we practice, Francis offers an important reminder.
But lately I hear this phrase popping up in conversations in which the actual sentiment seems to be "never use words." As is often the case amongst Christians (and human beings, for that matter), we are tempted to overcorrect.
You know the joke about how every racist joke starts (a quick look around to see who's listening)? My friend, Jeremiah, recently told me that's how all Christian testimonies begin too.
Now, I get where this is coming from. We don't want to be perceived as another Robertson or Falwell or Dobson. We want actions to speak louder than words. But what if the time for words comes and we miss it? Is it possible that we don't think the good news is very good? Could it be that we're so embarrassed by those associated with Jesus that we hesitate to associate with Jesus himself?
The overcorrective is described as a desire not to impose our beliefs upon others, but I'm not sure that isn't a copout. We don't mind telling people who they should vote for or that the war should end or even what should have won best picture this year. We impose our beliefs upon others all the time. But, for some reason, when it comes to THE thing we believe, we turn shy.
I'm not advocating for street corner evangelism. I'm not saying that the first (or second or third) question out of our mouths should be "have you made Jesus your personal Savior?" I'm just saying that this is the truth that we most strongly believe. This is the news that we claim as THE good news. So why are we so adamant about keeping it to ourselves?