Closing the Gap
I once took a cruise from the United States to Brazil with my family. We were expecting a new adventure, but what we didn’t expect was how those sixteen days aboard the ship would turn into an eye-opening experience about sharing the gospel. The ship had 120 people—half were tourists, and the other half were missionaries, including us. Imagine that! Sixty missionaries and sixty tourists. You’d think with a one-to-one ratio for sixteen days, those tourists would be thoroughly exposed to the Christian message, right?
My wife and I spent the first few days mingling with other passengers, having unhurried conversations that naturally led to discussions about Christ. By the third day, I figured if the other fifty-eight missionaries were doing what we were, it might be a bit overwhelming for the tourists. So, I decided to talk with the other missionaries to coordinate our efforts. When I found six of them sitting together on the deck and shared my concern, they just looked at each other blankly. It hadn’t even occurred to them to talk to the tourists about Christ. One said they had just graduated from seminary and didn’t learn how to evangelize there. Another admitted to having a built-in reservation against the idea of conversion. A third had been a pastor for three years but had never personally evangelized anyone and didn’t know how.
If we couldn’t evangelize sixty people in sixteen days with a one-to-one ratio, how were we supposed to reach ninety-five million Brazilians? A few hours later, three of those six missionaries came to my cabin. They had obtained permission from the captain to conduct a Sunday service for the ship’s crew and wanted me to preach. This plan reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend’s pastor who said his church was focusing on services at old folks’ homes and jails. While there’s nothing wrong with that, I wondered if they were teaching their congregation that the gospel was only for those in unfortunate circumstances.
When I voiced this concern to the three missionaries, they understood but had already committed to conducting the service for the crew. So, I agreed to attend but not to speak. The four of us arrived at the galley on schedule, but it was empty. Occasionally, a sailor would dart through the room, obviously trying not to get caught. Finally, one sailor, a Baptist, sat down. So we had the service: four missionaries and one Baptist sailor. Afterward, my friends realized they needed to focus on the tourists.
There was an elderly Christian couple among the passengers, and the three missionaries organized an old-fashioned sing to celebrate the husband’s birthday. Knowing what was coming and not wanting to jeopardize my relationships with the tourists I was evangelizing, I stayed away. As the sing went on, I could hear hymns, testimonies, and a message from the third deck. When it was over, the missionaries were euphoric. They had succeeded in “preaching” to virtually all the passengers. Naturally, they planned another sing for two nights later. This time, I went to the third deck again, but sixty others joined me, avoiding a repeat.
Reflecting on those sixteen days, it struck me that this situation represented a microcosm of the church in the world. This realization led me to explore what it truly means to take the gospel into the world. We must close the communication gap between Christians and the secular world. The apostle Paul provides a guiding principle in 1 Corinthians 9:19-23, where he talks about becoming “all things to all men” to save some. Paul recognized that it was up to the witness to adapt to those he evangelized, not the other way around. He defended his freedom to be all things to all men because this balance allowed him to participate in the lives of others without compromising God’s sovereign rule in his heart.
So, what does it mean to be “all things to all men” in practice? For Paul, it meant respecting the scruples and traditions of whomever he was with and having the flexibility to set one group’s practices aside when entering the world of others with different customs. This approach was controversial, but Paul was willing to pay the price. He knew that going to the Gentiles required maturity and courage. A South American friend once told me that a team of American missionaries was struggling to establish a solid ministry because their sanctification was “American.” They were afraid to adapt to the local culture, fearing they would become “soiled by the world” or “go pagan.”
Change is hard, especially in behavior. Going into the world implies participation in people’s lives, taking their values seriously, and understanding their perspectives. Jesus is our ultimate example. He set aside His glory, made Himself nothing, and humbled Himself (Philippians 2:7-8). He lived among us and participated in life as we live it, drawing the line only at sin. To what degree could we identify with God if there had been no incarnation?
Paul followed the same principle. He went to non-Christians to bring them to God, but he knew their route to God had to pass through his own life. In 1 Thessalonians 2:10, he reminded the Thessalonians of how holy, righteous, and blameless he was among them. The life a Christian lives in the presence of those he seeks to win is a preview of what the non-Christian’s life will become if he accepts the gospel. Generally, people decide to accept or reject Christianity based on what they see in us.
This truth was driven home to me by a Brazilian friend, Mario. For four years, we studied the Bible together before he became a Christian. Mario, an intellectual and Marxist, had read many leading Western thinkers. One day, he told me that what made him decide to become a Christian was observing my family during a simple meal. He realized that he wanted the kind of relationship we had, which he knew he could never achieve without Christ.
Mario saw that Christianity binds a family together. The last verse in the Old Testament speaks of turning “the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers” (Malachi 4:6). Our family was unaware of our influence on Mario. God worked through us without our knowing it. Most Christians are probably unaware of the improvements God makes on us in the sanctification process. We see our weaknesses and recoil at the thought of letting outsiders see us as we really are. But any Christian sincerely seeking to walk with God, despite their flaws, reflects something of Christ.
It’s not enough to occasionally drop into another’s world, preach, and leave. Somehow, we need to bring them into our world as well. This interaction will never happen unless we learn to become “all things to all men.” Living out the gospel in everyday life, in genuine relationships, makes our faith tangible and attractive. It’s through these authentic connections that people can truly see the difference Christ makes.
PLEASE SHARE AND REPOST