This past weekend, I had one of the most intense and wierd experiences ever. I have an older brother named John, whom I love very, very much. He is absolutely hysterical. He is not a Christian. Every time we get to gether as a family, I look forward to being around him and I always pray for an opportunity to talk about the gospel with him. This past weekend my family and I got together at a cabin in Gatlinburg, TN to celebrate an early Thanksgiving.
I got to the cabin late on Friday night, and almost immediately, my brother and I were engaged in an impassioned discussion on life, the past, God, the gospel, and a whole host of other topics that more or less were unrelated. I tried to explain my need and his need for a Savior because of our sin and that Jesus Christ is that one and only Savior. I know I probably could have communicated several things much better than I did: The meaning of Righteousness, the true nature of God’s grace, the joy of being forgiven and standing blameless before a holy God, etc, but here’s the point. We, as Christians, who are still waring against the sins of our flesh that remain kicking in our members, can crave a good thing, like a family member’s salvation, too much.
Here’s what happened: I had gone through great pains to help my brother understand that I am totally depraved in my natural state and that I need to be delivered from the wrath of God for my sin. He kept coming back with comments like, “Dude, you’re too hard on yourself, you’re a good guy.” and “If you aren’t a good guy, who is?!” In addition he made several contradictory comments about how sinful he was; walking the line that he was “way to sinful to be a good guy like me”, as if he could be too far off for God to slap him in the face and drag him out of his passionate sprint toward eternal wrath and fury. In my mind, this was an attack on the Holiness and Glory of God, thinking that man, a “good guy” like me, could live up to God’s uncompromising standard of perfection. I tried to explain that it wasn’t about me being a “good guy”, but about Christ being perfect and dying in my place and God counting to my credit His perfect life. I also tried to explain that any good character I might exhibit has a definitive and miraculous work of God in my heart at convesion as its grounds not something inherent in me or some ultra will power I had developed over the years.
But as I know, but didn’t choose to believe in that moment, God saves people, not us. I can’t make my brother repent and believe the gospel. I could explain it super clearly and answer every single one of my brother’s questions thouroughly, but if the Spirit of God doesn’t do something, no change will ever take place. But in the midst of our conversation, due to my gospel zeal that turned into sinful anger, the “poop” hit the fan! My brother went on to talk about how he had been really sinful in the past, but that now he was a much better person. This comment squeezed the sopping sponge of my heart so that the sin that was inside came boiling to the surface. Because I crave his salvation too much, and it appeared all my efforts were amounting to nothing, I lashed out in furious anger:
My brother and I were out on the porch on the side of the cabin. He was leaning on the rail and I was sitting down. He had been sipping on a coke and Cap. Morgan’s mix, which was sitting on the rail. After my brother made a comment about how he was doing better, I lost it, jumped up out of my seat, yelled, “That don’t mean [squat] before a Holy God, it don’t mean [squat]!!!” (Only I did not say “squat.” Yes, that’s right, I cursed while sharing the gospel. Just doesn’t make much sense does it?) Then, with a mixture of sin and adrenaline, I slapped the coke and rum glass with my hand. It immediately shattered. Before I even looked at my hand I knew I had really blown it. I looked at my hand and it was already pouring blood.
I ran into the cabin, threw my hand under the sink, and started barking orders about how I needed water and juice to drink, and we needed to go to the emergency room NOW! So, we woke my brother-in-law up and he drove us to the emergency room. By this time the adrenaline was all used up and my hand was hurting and bleeding like crazy. We went in, and they startd attending to my wound. Every nurse and doctor I talked to asked what happened, and I told them the whole story. I got some really wierd looks. Really wierd.
The cuts in my hand were long and deep. I had to have two internal and nine external stitches. OUCH! Let me say this, the worst part of an injury like that is the pain required to numb the area around your wound so that they can sew it up. Kinda ironic huh?
Needless to say, this gave some great laughs and awkward situations for the rest of the weekend. I also learned, by experience, something that I knew from scripture already. The saving of a soul happens by a secret and somewhat mysterious work of the Holy Spirit through the proclamation of the gospel. It DOES NOT happen by cursing and slapping a glass with your hand. Let this be a lesson to all of you as you plead with those you love to turn from their sin and trusting in their efforts to trusting in the finished work of Christ. Share the gospel consistently and with genuine passion, then pray. That’s our role in evangelism. We can’t change anyone’s heart, no matter how many glasses we shatter!
All was not a waste, however, I think any notion that I am a “good guy” has been obliterated from my brother’s mind. He knows I’m a big fat sinner, now. So, in future conversations, I can use that interaction to share the gospel again: “See, I am a huge sinner. I get angry, I break stuff and curse. But the good news is God crushed his Son for ALL my sin, and he now looks at me AS IF I perfectly obeyed all his law because of Jesus Christ. So, Booyah! Good news, huh?” We will screw up in evangelism all the time. Use your mistakes and your sin as an opportunity to exalt the Christian’s glory: We are weak, sinful, fickle, and stupid, but God saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but becuase of His great mercy. we boast in the cross, not in how much we have our act together.
Kevin=idiot