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?
4 comments:
Kester, tru dat. I have wrestled with this thing you have articulated. I'm often guilty of being over-corrective. honestly, i get red in the face when others find out what i'm studying in school and will soon be doing with my life (i'll be the new student minister at Disciples' Fellowship with Greg this summer--sweet). it so often seems like a conversation killer. i guess i've got this notion that i'm in the same business as the Elmer Gantry's and other Sinclair characters (like the preacher in Oil!) and all the rest--as if I'm somehow better. still, how do we get away from all the baggage? i guess i don't think about the good company i share in this vocation and life as a Christian--the focus has been on my association with the bad over the good.
you seem to strike a healthy balance b/t words and life. your faith seems to be public in a good, constructive way. thanks for sharing.
I understand the baggage and even the embarrassment by being potentially lumped in with the Gantrys and such.
But then I imagine if a bunch of people started declaring themselves "followers of Rachel" and doing all sorts of horrible things. Would that be enough for me to hope people don't find out that she and I are married?
Ya know, I've been thinking about this Francis quote. Does it change our perspective at all to realize that when Francis said this - and did what he did - he would have also been wearing his hair in a specific tonsure, and his clothing in a specific type of friar's habit? He was KNOWN as a Christian, by his dress, when he said that quote.
Came upon your blog via a couple clicks from theooze.com. I have thought a lot about this subject in the past, and I wonder if it matters what words we use. I think one of the most overlooked portions of Christ's teachings is how he used words. He seemed to ask a lot of questions and tell a lot of stories.
Which is interesting that those approaches are not used much by those we often attempt to distinguish ourselves from (those mentioned in your post).
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