Rancho Bernardo Community Presbyterian Church

Labels are wonderful. Labels in the store help us quickly clarify the soup from the nuts, Coke from Pepsi, chips from cookies. Labels save us time. When we are baking, a quick glance at the labels keeps us from having to open up each spice container. When we store things in the garage, labeling the boxes can save us time later when we need to dig something out to use it.

When we move labels from containers to people, however, something terrible happens. Labels can destroy relationships. Once we label a person we usually stop listening. "He's a Republican." "She's a Democrat." No need to continue the political discussion now that we know. Religious labels do the same thing. "They are Mormons." "She's a Buddhist." End of the conversation. Must evangelism require us to label people as “lost” in order to “save” them?

Read Acts 17:22-28.

I was probably ten or eleven when I first heard the question. I opened the front door of our house to see a couple people holding Bibles. They introduced themselves and then asked me the question. “Are you saved?” I had never heard this question before so I remained at the door as I called out to my mom in another part of the house, “Mom, am I saved?’ She called back, “Tell them you’re Presbyterian.” For years I thought that was the correct answer to the question. Some people are labeled “Saved.” My family proudly wore the label “Presbyterian.”

The Apostle Paul avoided labels in his passion to bring people to an encounter with Jesus. When he first arrived in Athens he easily could have labeled the people of that city. He wandered through their streets and saw images of all kinds of gods. As a faithful Jew he could have labeled them as idolaters, pagans, gentiles. Instead he prayed for discernment and a way to reach these people with God's love. Instead of closing his mind to the images, he read their inscriptions and found one that stirred his imagination. In Athens he found an altar dedicated to an unknown god. Paul used this altar to begin sharing his faith with the people of Athens. He explained that the god he wanted to talk about was unknown to them, but very real to him. With this introduction he began his relational evangelism.

The Apostle Paul had a choice. He could either prejudge the Athenians or evangelize them. Unfortunately, for many today the idea of evangelism equates with prejudicial assumptions. Many think the only way to evangelize our neighbors is to assume they are “lost” before we even talk to them. If this is our assumption, it is not surprising that many of us feel uncomfortable evangelizing our neighbors. What if we challenged this assumption that there are only two kinds of people: “Saved” and “Lost”? Relational evangelism invites a conversation where we listen to our neighbors in order to understand and appreciate their views as well as share our stories of following Jesus.

Evangelism is more than simply assuming anyone who is not in church is lost and we must ask, "Are you saved?" Evangelism requires good listening and prayerful discernment.

Missionaries have struggled with choosing the best words in a culture to communicate God's love. The choice of words can be the difference between success and disaster. Take Korea for an example. Hundreds of years ago the Roman Catholic missionaries were the first to evangelize Korea. When they arrived, they learned that the Korean people already had the idea of a high and exalted God. This distant Creator was respected though not much involved in their daily lives. This god's name was Hananim. Instead of using this name to introduce the Koreans to Jesus, the Roman Catholic missionaries chose a name they had developed during their missions in China. Thus, the Koreans came to associate Jesus with an entirely foreign, unfamiliar God. They showed little interest.

Later, in 1884, the first Protestant missionaries arrived in Korea. They chose the opposite tack from the Roman Catholics. They listened carefully to the Korean descriptions of Hananim and learned that there was an ancient myth about Hananim having a Son who wanted to live among people! The Protestant missionaries determined that Hananim was the Korean version of our God. Preaching now with a familiar Korean word for God, the Protestant message transformed the lives of millions of Koreans. Millions of Koreans encountered Jesus as their Lord and Savior.

What of the Roman Catholic missionaries? In recent years they decided they had made a mistake and decided to join the Protestants in proclaiming Hananim as the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. As a result both branches of Christianity are now growing in Korea. In fact, the gospel of Jesus has so gripped the people there that Korea today has the largest churches in the world. When our mission committee asks our Korean congregation how we can help them, they respond that rather than being on the receiving end of missions, they plan to bring missionaries to us!

Abraham's story is similar to the mistake the Roman Catholics made in Korea. When he arrived in the city of Gerar, Abraham assumed the king and the people were evil pagans. Abraham believed them to be so ungodly that he feared for his own life. He came up with a scheme to trick them into hosting him. He and his wife Sarah agreed to tell the king that she was Abraham's sister. He hoped that the people would be impressed with her beauty and welcome them both.

They were welcomed into the city. In fact, the king was so taken with Sarah's beauty that she was brought into the palace and included in the king's harem. For some time Abraham lived in the city while Sarah lived in the palace. They lived this lie until one day the king of Gerar had a dream from the Lord. In the dream God spoke to the king and told him that Sarah was a married woman. God told the king not to touch her. When the king awakened, he called for Abraham and confronted him with the lie. Why would Abraham and Sarah have done such a thing? The answer was that he made a faulty spiritual assumption. They were so sure the king did not know God that they failed to discern. Abraham admitted to the king, "I said to myself, 'There is surely no fear of God in this place" (Genesis 20:11).

I am struck by the moment in the story when King Abimelech asks what he ever did against Abraham that Abraham would lie to him. Could there come a day when our neighbors might ask us an equivalent question? How would we answer a neighbor who says, "Let me get this straight, you knew God loves me and you never told me?" "Do you mean to tell me that you knew Jesus could give my life purpose and joy but you kept it to yourself?" "What did I ever do against you that you would withhold such valuable information from me?"

Might we be making faulty assumptions about others? “They are so irreligious. They would never want to have a spiritual conversation with me.” “They will reject me if I tell them I am a Christian.” Might we be making the same mistake of assumptions about others that Abraham made?

There is an intriguing part of this Bible story that surprises me. Abraham, with his assumptions loses touch with God. At this point in the story, there is an ironic twist of humor. The person that Abraham labeled as far from God was the one who heard from God. The one Abraham assumed was a pagan, far from God, became the prophet to Abraham. Can we relate to Abraham's mistake? Have we ever missed an opportunity with God because we had already made up our minds?

Fresh out of college, while still considering seminary, I was quick to use labels on people. In my mind, the label "He's liberal" meant I did not need to listen to his views since I already knew what he thought and he was wrong. In particular, I was very critical of one of the Presbyterian pastors in our area. I considered him to be so liberal that I not only doubted whether he really knew Jesus, I even doubted whether God could do anything through him. It came as a shock, therefore, when I learned that this liberal pastor was sponsoring a faith healing service with a guest pastor about whom I had heard wonderful things. The guest was a respected conservative in our denomination. My curiosity up, I attended the healing service.

That day I enjoyed the wonderful preaching of this Bible-believing, conservative, Jesus-loving, Spirit-filled guest preacher. I could not figure out how this man was being sponsored by the liberal host pastor. According to my labels these two did not belong in the same service.

When it came time for people to come forward and ask for prayer for healing, we lined up in the central aisle of the church. The first group of about twenty people went forward and knelt across the front in order for the two pastors to lay hands on their heads and pray for them. I was positioned in the line so that I would be with the second group to go forward. I watched how it worked. The liberal pastor was praying for people to my left. The conservative pastor was praying for people to my right. The two men were praying for people starting at the outside and moving toward the middle. I maneuvered in line so that I could kneel on the right and be prayed for by the conservative pastor.

When the two pastors met in the middle and completed their prayers the first group rose to their feet and returned to their seats. Our group went forward and I knelt. I closed my eyes and asked God to touch me at my point of need. Imagine my shock as the two pastors crossed over and changed positions. The liberal pastor was now coming toward me and the conservative pastor was moving away. With my assumption, I refused to believe God could answer the prayers of that liberal pastor for me. Kierkegaard, a Christian writer in Europe, was right when he wrote, "Once you label me, you negate me."

Are we carrying assumptions that are not only blocking a chance to enter a spiritual conversation with some, but may even be blocking our ability to hear from God?