How you live your life can be more important that what you have to say.
But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect… (1 Peter 3:15 NIV)
I was waiting to pick up my son from kindergarten a few years ago when one of the other parents, whom I had just met for the first time, struck up a conversation with me. He seemed nice enough, asked me what I do, and when he learned that my family was on our way to Japan as missionaries to volunteer in the disaster recovery effort, commended us.
He then began to share a bit about his faith, which differs from mine– I have no problems with this, as I’m thankful to have friends from a broad range of backgrounds, religious or otherwise, so I listened politely as he talked about his beliefs.
Then, with a broad grin and a hand on my shoulder, he began to tell me why my faith in Christ is wrong and his religion is correct, using Bible verses out of context in an attempt to convince me. I know the Bible well enough to have countered his arguments, but I didn’t think that the kindergarten pick-up area was a good place for a religious smackdown. So, I decided to bear with him until our kids were dismissed.
This incident bugged me. The friendliness that I had initially read, I now saw as the smarmy slickness of a used car salesperson. I no longer felt like this man’s friend or neighbor, but like a target, a goal, or a project. During my prayer time later that day, I asked God what the point of that whole experience was.
The thought that came to mind was, “It’s annoying to be proselytized to, isn’t it?”
It sure was.
I thought about all the people who had tried to evangelize to me in the years before I decided to follow Christ at the ripe old age of 34. Plenty of people had preached at me over the years, and the more self-righteous they came across as, the more I resisted. I didn’t begin to lower my defenses until I noticed that some of my best friends, who happened to be Christian, were different in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. For one thing, they were selfless and generous, with no strings attached. For another, I never saw them get upset or angry. Nothing seemed to phase them, even in the midst of troubles, and it wasn’t because of a zoned-out, zen-like tranquility, nor was it due to an unbridled optimism borne of naiveté. What I noticed in these friends was “the peace of God that transcends all understanding” (Phil. 4:7).
I don’t recall these friends ever preaching to me or handing me tracts. They’d mention that they go to church and pray, but they never told me that I had to do the same. And because their lives reflected something I couldn’t understand but coveted, I grew more curious about this Jesus whom they believed in.
Jesus said, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.… let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:14-16). Light isn’t loud; it just shines, and the light of Christ radiated through my friends, without them having to say a word. As a speaker at a missions conference once said, “As a (Christian leader), how you live your life can be more important than what you have to say.”
I didn’t feel like arguing with the proselytizer outside of the kindergarten that day. Maybe I was being arrogant, or maybe I was just plain tired.
Or maybe the best arguments in our case for Christ require no words.
Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us. (1 Peter 2:12 NIV)
