One of the defining moments of my life the day I was the first to arrive for class. I sat for a couple of moments alone in a corner of the classroom, waiting for others to show up. A young woman came in the door, looked around, and then said to someone behind her in the hall, “There’s nobody here.”
“Nobody here?” When I, in all of my 20-year-old glory, had filled a chair and was breathing my share of oxygen? “Nobody here?” When yours truly, admittedly with a lot less bulk than he presents now, and certainly with no clergy robe or violet stole, but only with a drab gray shirt and faded blue jeans, was taking up space? Nobody here?! What an insult!
But, I say, it was a defining moment for me, because that day I began to realize that I am one of those people who are not very visible, not particularly noticeable. As the saying goes, I am one of those people who just blend into the woodwork.
I got in touch with that even more last Sunday, when my son came to church, and one of you said, “Your son is a nice-looking young man, ALTHOUGH he looks a lot like you.” Although?! Thank you very much! I just blend into the woodwork, don’t I?
And I suspect a lot of you do too. You are a quiet people. Not many of you are like the kind of worker my one-time supervisor of mine said he wanted. He said he needed on his staff people who even while sitting down could stir up a cloud of dust! Well, that’s not me. You notice I am no longer working for that fellow. And that’s not you either. We don’t stand out, most of us. We blend into the woodwork.
A long time ago I learned the personality of this church. We are a quiet people. We are a people who do not like hoopla and fanfare. If you do something worthy of congratulations, you don’t like it when I call your name from the pulpit. You’d rather I sent you a little note that you can read at home, in the quiet of your own house. Or if you do something that needs correcting, you don’t want to hear about it in a speech at business meeting; even when you fight, you want to fight quietly, behind the scenes, blend into the woodwork.
And even when the Lord does something spectacular, a few of you will shout, “Hallelujah, praise the Lord”. But most of you will sit still, smile sweetly, and murmur gently, “Isn’t that nice?!”. We are so quiet, we so blend into the woodwork, that much of the community is not aware of this church, and has no feel for what we are about. That is an issue.
That is a concern, because God has purposed for us that we be an evangelizing church. God has intended that we share the good news. But how can we evangelize, how can we share the good news, if we do not have an up-front personality? How can we accomplish the purposes of God, who wants to reach the masses, if we don’t do anything more than blend into the woodwork, as bland little Christians?
Do you watch Home and Garden TV like my wife does? Do you see all those shows where they take those blah rooms and create charming spaces? Often one of the things they do is to create accents in a room. They take a chair or a couch that is so bland it can hardly be seen, and they give it an accent color – maybe just a swatch of fabric or a few pillows – so that it stands out. It no longer blends into the woodwork.
Do you suppose that the Lord, in His designs for your life and mine, could make us into accents that no longer blend into the woodwork? Do you suppose that the Lord of the church, who has purposed that His church share the good news, might give us an accent, so that we too might stand out in this community?
I believe that He can. I believe that even though we are introverted, quiet, and shy, God can give us accent colors that will accomplish for Him the task of sharing the good news. The prophet Habakkuk, who lived about six hundred years before Christ, gives us some clues.
I
First, notice with me this simple and straightforward phrase, as Habakkuk begins his spiritual journey. Habakkuk, facing the dangers and difficulties of his day, began with one ringing phrase: “I will”. “I will”. “I will stand at my watch post.” “I will station myself on the rampart.” “I will keep watch.” “I will”.
Friends, our journey toward becoming the good news people that God wants starts with the declaration, “I will.” It starts with determining that we will be obedient to God’s will.
Whenever the question of doing evangelism is raised, I hear, “I’m just not comfortable with that.” “That’s not my kind of thing.” When we talk about why we cannot witness, we don’t speak about being ignorant. We don’t speak of being unable. We don’t argue that telling others about Christ is unnecessary. We don’t seem to think that it is unimportant. What is our issue? Our issue is that sharing the faith is uncomfortable. It is not natural. It gets us out front and that’s not comfortable for those who prefer to blend into the woodwork.
But I tell you the issue is not comfort; the issue is obedience. The issue is not what we find it natural to do; the issue is whether we will take seriously what God expects us to do. Habakkuk, I feel sure, did not find it comfortable to get up on his watchtower and tell the people of Judah what was about to happen. But he did it. He determined to do what God had commissioned him to do. The first step on the journey to becoming an authentically evangelical church is to obey. “I will.”
I hate to tell you this, but there was a time when I too shied away from up-close-and-personal talk about faith. I was elected deacon of a church in Silver Spring, and one day came the inevitable call: “One of the members in your cluster is in the hospital, and you need to visit.” Well, that struck terror into my heart. I did not want to visit that person. Why? What is so threatening about a hospital visit? I do not know. I really do not. I don’t think it was about the hospital, and I know it was not about the person involved. It was all about me; it was about that introverted personality that always prefers not to be anywhere where things too personal are to be dealt with.
Well, I put off that hospital visit for a day, but I knew I could not wait any longer. I drove to the Adventist Hospital, but took the slowest, longest route I could think of. I hoped I would not find a parking place, so that I could go home and say, “I tried.” But there was plenty of parking. I went in and found the room door closed; I thought, “Aha, something very private is going on. I’d better not go in.” But just then an orderly came out, propped open the door, smiled, and said, “Do you want to go in? It’s all right.”
“Do you want to go in?” If I had been totally honest, I would have said, “No, I don’t want to go in. I don’t want to see somebody who may be dying. I don’t want to talk with somebody in distress, and I don’t know what to say. And above all, I don’t want to go in there and have to answer questions about whether God will heal this man. No, Mr. Orderly, I do not want to go in. It’s just too – something.” Too personal? Too close to home? I still am not sure why it is so tough. But it is.
I went in. My fellow church member was asleep, and I thought, “Hooray. I can just tell his family tomorrow that I did go by – I can cover my reputation and still not actually have to talk with him.” But you know that tricky old God – just as I was about to turn and slip out of the room, the guy raised one eyelid and said, “Joe? Is that you, Joe?” No place to hide! Oh, as somebody once said, “God moves in a mischievous way, His wonders to perform!”
But, you know, over time I learned that I could be intentional, even though it was uncomfortable. I learned that I could be obedient, and go, even though I didn’t really want to. And, praise God, I learned that I could speak His truth, even though I thought I couldn’t. Obedience. Even though you think you cannot say anything of value, just do it. Just go. Just speak. Just be Habakkuk, saying, “I will.” “I will”. I may blend into the woodwork, but I’ll get out of that and I’ll put on an accent color. I will be intentional with my witness. “I will.”
II
And yet, that’s not enough. That doesn’t get it, just being determined. Good intentions pave the road to you-know-where. Or if not to hell, at least to failure. Merely intending to do the right thing is not enough. We must take additional steps toward a faithful witness.
I want to suggest that the second step toward being an evangelizing people is to accept who we are and where we are and to look for opportunities in that place, with that personality. God does not call us to be somebody else; but He does call us to be faithful as who we are and where we are. God does call us to look for opportunities to share the good news in a way that fits our personalities and our gifts.
Listen to Habakkuk. Habakkuk got his courage up and determined that he would be obedient. But what did he do with his obedience? Where did it lead him? Obedience led Habakkuk to take stock of who he was, and where he was, and what God had put before him. Habakkuk learned to use that blend-into-the-woodwork style to advantage. What does he say?
“I will stand at my watch post” My watch post – not someone else’s, but mine. “I will stand at my watch post, and station myself on the rampart; I will keep watch to see what he will say to me.” Habakkuk decided that he would be Habakkuk – not Isaiah, not Jeremiah, not Ezekiel, Habakkuk was just a minor prophet. But he would take his stand where he was, in his place, and would keep watch to see what God would say. He would look for opportunities to use who he was and where he was to create a witness.
I have news for you today. The news is, “Takoma will never be a megachurch.” Takoma will NEVER, at least not in my lifetime, be a megachurch. We will not see thousands of people clamoring to get in here for five services every weekend. We will not be tearing down every house in sight to build a church building that looks something like FedEx stadium. We will not become a megachurch.
And the reasons have nothing to do with how much land we have, or how much money, or what the zoning people would say. The reasons have nothing to do with external circumstances. The reasons are internal. We will not be a megachurch because we are not that kind of personality. For a church to become huge in numbers, its pastor, its leaders, and most of its members have to be larger-than-life personalities. They have to be magnetic, extroverted, pizzazz. If somebody were to try that here, every fuse in your spiritual circuit board would break! No, this is a quiet place. This is not Ten Thousand Tabernacle; this is Tacit Takoma!
But that does not mean that we cannot reach people! That does not mean that we cannot tell the good news! What it means is that we must choose to use who we are and where we are, and creatively do something to tell our community about Christ and His love. It means that we accept our personality, and then we use it, just as we are, for His glory. It means that we look for opportunities to break out of the box and share the good news.
Last Monday night at the Convention Board meeting, two churches were asked to tell their stories. You could not have had two more contrasting stories. These two churches are utterly different. But each church had decided to be who they are, where they are, and look for an opportunity to share the good news.
New Samaritan Baptist Church is located in a turbulent part of Northeast DC. They looked out from their watch post and saw that on New Year’s Eve, a lot of people get drunk, get into accidents, and start the year on a negative note. So New Samaritan rented the D.C. Armory, spent thousands of dollars for musicians, advertising, food, and all the rest, and threw a citywide New Year’s Eve party. Now they did more than throw the usual kind of party. They had clothing for people who needed it. They had food to take home for people who were hungry. Their pastor brought a message. The church had counselors ready to talk to people with problems. They even had vans ready to take people to shelters and detox units, if needed. New Samaritan Baptist Church looked out from its watch post, saw who they are and where they are, and took that opportunity to tell the good news. Three hundred people gave their lives to Christ that night. Three hundred! How long will it take to get three hundred to come into our Sunday services and make decisions? A very long time indeed!
But then we also heard about Chevy Chase Baptist Church. You could not get much different. New Samaritan is all black and in a troubled part of town. Chevy Chase is mostly white, with a sprinkling of internationals, and they tell me the streets over there are paved with gold! New Samaritan has one of those bombastic preachers, and that bumpety-bump music that shivers the timbers. Chevy Chase has a pastor who wears informal shirts and jeans, and its music sounds something like Peter-Paul-and-Mary folk rock. These two churches could not be much different. And yet two things they have in common: they know that they are called to share the Gospel, by any means at their disposal; and they know that they are to be true to who they are, where they are, and look for opportunities to witness.
And so Chevy Chase Baptist Church has opened, “The Healing Rooms.” In a house on Military Road, they have an ongoing open house for people to come by and seek prayer. The response has been glorious! Not 300 people all in one evening, of course; but after only a few weeks of operation, people do come in and seek the ministry of prayer. People who do not know the Lord. People who have fallen away from Christ. All sorts of people. All because a church did not give up on itself, did not blend into the woodwork and go quietly about the same old same old, but instead, like Habakkuk, proclaimed, “I will stand at my watch post” MY watch post – the place the Lord has given me. And there, “I will keep watch to see what he will say to me.”
God does not ask us to be somebody else. He has not called us to be New Samaritan or to be Chevy Chase. But He has called us to be Takoma, who we are, where we are, and with every means at our disposal, with holy boldness, to do something to reach this community for Christ. He has not called us merely to blend in with the woodwork, but to be who we are. And that is our opportunity. One of our newest members says that she drove past here for a long time, on her way to work, and could feel the quiet spirit of the place; and so one Sunday she came to test that spirit, found it was real, and today we offered her the Right Hand of Fellowship! We can be who we are, where we are, and we can be effective.
III
Brothers and sisters, the Lord our God has given us this ministry. The Lord has planted us in this community, and has given us a personality and a watch post, and we need to listen to the Lord’s expectations. For even though we would rather blend into the woodwork and go about our life quietly, there is so much more that the Lord wants for us.
I listen to us grumble that we don’t know enough about how to witness. We’d like to, but we don’t know how. This despite all our Bible classes, all our discipleship groups, all the witness clinics. I listen to us grumble that we don’t know enough, but I hear the word of the Lord through Habakkuk, “Write the vision; make it plain on tablets, so that a runner may read it.” The Lord says, “Get your vision clear.” Get your mind around how to tell others about Christ. There is no excuse for remaining ignorant.
I listen to us giving up on ourselves. I hear us worrying that we are not going to reach anybody. We think we cannot reach young people; Some fear we cannot touch anybody who is not African-American; still others believe we are not equipped to help anybody who is troubled. I hear us giving up the vision. But then I hear the word of the Lord through Habakkuk, “There is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end, and does not lie. If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come, it will not delay.” Do not give up on yourselves! Do not give up on the vision for this church as a multiracial, international, inclusive community, for all sorts of people. Do not look at your neighbor who is different and say, “Oh, he wouldn’t want to come to Takoma. She wouldn’t be at home here.” Try it! Wait for it! It will come; it is the Lord’s will.
I listen to us – and this is not easy to say – but I listen to us talking about being comfortable, about taking care of ourselves. When I hear us talking about cutting what we give to missions or curtailing the energies we put into outreach, I cannot avoid hearing the word of the Lord through Habakkuk, “Alas for you who get evil gain for your houses, setting your nest on high to be safe from the reach of harm.” Do not cut back what we do for the Lord! Do not spend the time, the money, the energy you have on building a mausoleum. Spend time and money and energy on reaching people and telling the good news.
God has purposed that we be an evangelizing church. We are to use every means at our disposal to share the good news with all persons. We must be determined to be obedient, even though it’s not comfortable. We must use our personality, with all of its timidity, to reach others, right here where we are. And we can. We can. We do not have to blend into the woodwork.
One of my favorite British comedies is “Fawlty Towers”. In “Fawlty Towers”, there is a hapless hotel keeper, Basil Fawlty, who is making a mess of the hotel business. More over, he has a shrewish wife Sybil, who bears down on him like the plague. And so in one episode, where Basil has decided to put the hotel guests through fire drills, he has once again angered Sybil, who does not want the guests disturbed. But all of a sudden there is a real fire, not just a fire drill. The drunken cook in the kitchen has spilled some alcohol, and fire is taking over in earnest. Poor Basil knows that he must get his guests. But he also knows that his wife will beat up on him for making noise. So he tries to sound the alarm very quietly. In a low voice Basil says, “Fire.” No one responds. “Fire,” he tries once more. Still no response. Basil keeps at it. “Fire. Fir ! F-f-f-fire. FIRE!” Pandemonium, yes. Sybil upset, of course. But the guests do get out in time.
After all, in an urgent situation, when it matters whether our neighbors live or die, it’s time to let God make us into an accent color, even though we might like to blend into the woodwork. For, as Habakkuk puts it, “The very stones will cry out from the wall, and the plaster will respond from the woodwork.”
