Can I Get A Witness: Burdening the Woman in Kagman
“I’m sorry I just take it anymore. I just can’t take it.”
Even though she sat facing away from us, wearing dark sunglasses, I could read the tension in her body clearly. Her mouth was set, her muscles tensed. I felt sorry. Sorry for whatever had led her to this place of frustration in her life. Sorry, too, that we seemed to be the most recent addition to whatever burdens she was bearing.
It was a beautiful Sabbath afternoon in Kagman. A soft breeze tempered the tropical sun. The sky was blue, the ocean in the distance vast and calm. And here we were—Barbara and I--in this woman’s carport, breaking the proverbial camel’s back.
What had we done to her, you may ask? Well, we offered to pray with her. The offer flustered her. She wanted to know, who were we again? We told her we were members of the Seventh-day Adventist Church. She pleaded that she wasn’t an Adventist. We assured her that didn’t matter. She floundered about for a few moments looking for some way—any way--out. She told a child lurking by the door to call someone else—presumably another adult—but it turns out that no rescue would be forthcoming. The relative was in the bathroom. That was when she’d had enough..
“You people, you just won’t stop. I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t. It’s against my principles.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” I replied smoothly. “We understand. Don’t worry about it.” And we took our leave.
She was our last visit of the day, and as we walked back towards the car past all the homes we’d prayed at or attempted to pray at, I thought a lot about that woman. I wasn’t hurt or feeling rejected, but I wondered a lot about her response and whether we in fact, were somehow adding to her burdens rather than relieving them. After all, all we’d offered to do was pray with her, right? That should be a blessing not a burden!
But clearly, this woman felt that we had some ulterior motive, some agenda that we were pursuing. Clearly she’d misunderstood us and what we were about.
Or had she? After all, my right pocket was stuffed with Discovery Bible School pamphlets, my left pocket with a tract entitled “40 Bible Facts about the Sabbath.” And despite what we said in our pitch about “just going around the community and praying for people”, as if we’d just been sitting at home one Sabbath afternoon, and decided—“Hey, lets go out and pray for people”, the fact was that we were part of a campaign. As elders in our church it was our turn to lead a group of church members in what doing what’s known in evangelism parlance as groundwork. We were going door to door. Passing out tracts. Doing visitation. Witnessing. We didn’t really just want to “pray for people.” We were looking for Bible study interests, preparing the way for an upcoming evangelistic series planned for Kagman, and the ultimate goal: a new church planted in Kagman. The woman was right. We had an agenda. She knew it right away, and she wanted no part of it.
I realized that Sabbath afternoon that this kind of witnessing isn’t for me. Oh, it wasn’t so bad really. I’ve done this sort of thing before and there have been times when I’ve dreaded it so much it made me sick to my stomach. There have been times when every rejection was like a kick in the gut. But this was not one of those times. There was no dread, and the rejections we got didn’t sting. I’d simply shrug my shoulders, smile, and move on. It was actually a good afternoon. Most people declined our offer of prayer, but there were a few who did accept. These graciously invited us into our home, politely let us pray for them. And it did feel good to actually pray for those we met—either with the family, or as we walked back down the street after a rejection. It felt good to wish someone the best—to ask on their behalf for good health, encouragement, joy, safety, prosperity and know that God would honor those requests. It felt especially good, when the tracts stayed in our pockets and we walked away having genuinely done what we said we were doing “just praying for the people in the community.”
But I also saw a lot of wariness in people’s eyes. I saw lot of minds whirring away trying to figure out what we really wanted, who we really were. I sensed that a lot of the people we visited felt trapped somehow, the way you feel when you pick up the phone and the person on the other end of the line says: “Good evening, I’m Jeffery with Cingular Wireless and we have a special offer right now. . .” One person said they prayed at their own church. It’s not these people were necessarily irreligious. They just weren’t interested in the hassle of a sales pitch. Think about what the response of many Seventh-day Adventists would be to a Jehovah’s Witness or a Mormon at their door. Unless they’re like me and love theological debate, most Adventists would be thinking “Oh great. How can I get rid of them.” Even the people who responded positively to us understood, I think, what we were up to. They just had more confidence about their ability not to get roped into anything they didn’t want to be a part of. They had enough self-confidence to “give us a break” and let us do our thing and be on our way. That’s me too, by the way. I’m the door to door guy’s best friend because I’ll happily welcome you in, listen to your pitch, and consider your product—because I’m confident that you can’t sell me something I don’t really want. But not everybody is like me. In fact for many people the only thing worse than having a salesman show up at your door, is to be the salesman showing up at the door.
It’s not that I think this shotgun-style (with a shotgun you shoot in the general direction and at least some of multiple “shot” pellets will hit the target) approach to witnessing is inherently bad. It just not for me. I just don’t like sales. I spent a couple years in Amway (or Quixtar as it is now known) so I know sales and I know I don’t like it. For awhile I wondered if maybe it’s because I don’t really believe in my own product. One of the first rules of selling is that you have to genuinely believe in the product you’re selling—and I wondered, is my faith really so shallow, is my love for Jesus so tepid, my sense of urgency so mild—that I can’t convincingly sell the product. Perhaps, that’s part of it, but I don’t think I would ever enjoy selling the gospel door to door no matter how excited I am about Jesus. I love my mother too, but I can’t stand the thought of going door to door telling people about her. I know the urgency of the dangers of smoking. I don’t want to go visit smokers and try to get them to quit. Perhaps it’s a failing on my part, but I just don’t like this kind of witnessing.
But as I reflect on that poor, harried woman we left behind in that carport in Kagman, I’m not so sure that it is a failing to not want to be part of the army of Christian street soldiers of various denominational stripes “Do you know what will happen when you die?” “Do you know the Lord?” “What is the true church of Jesus Christ? “Are you looking for happiness?” “What day is the true Lord’s day?”—part of the parade of religion hawkers that have tromped through her carport. I’m not sure that Gospel should be sold like a set of steak knives or an exciting business opportunity. I’m not so sure that it’s a failing to feel that simply doing what we claim we’re doing “just praying for people” is enough, to believe that God doesn’t need us to help Him out by shoving a tract in their hands, or making this the first stage of a campaign to win souls like athletes try to win a game. It seems like we could just trust that prayer in of itself is powerful enough, and God cares enough to connect us to the people who are looking for Him without us having to help things along. Sadly every time I’ve ever done this little prayer thing we’ve always taken a tract or book with us, as if prayer by itself wouldn’t be enough.
I’m not saying that no one should go door to door. After all there are people out there literally waiting for someone to show up at their doorstep and tell them about Jesus. But I don’t think door-to-door witnessing is a church wide mandate. There are those with the gift for it, and the passion for it, and they are welcome to do it. But the rest of the church shouldn’t be made to feel guilty that they don’t want to be part of the sales force.
But I would suggest that those eager to beat the streets, hunting for lost souls, that you leave the tracts at home, and just go and pray like you say you’re doing. Don’t make it a “stepping stone” to some larger effort unless that person shows clear interest in going further. Or at the very least, be honest about what you’re about. Just tell them up front what you’re really after and let them make an informed decision. After all our job is to relieve the burdens of people like that lady in Kagman, not add to them.
When Jesus sent out his disciples he told them to “proclaim the kingdom of heaven is at hand, heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. . .” Matthew 10: 7,8. This is a world a way from the more pedestrian goal of getting people to assent to our set of beliefs, join our church, buy what we are selling.
The thing is: People really need prayer. People want prayer. They appreciate prayer. I guarantee you 99% of those people who declined our offer of prayer would actually have appreciated being prayed for. Like the R.E.M. song says “everyobody hurts.” And when people are hurting, in trouble, in need of comfort they turn to prayer, and they appreciate the sincere gift of another concerned person, even a stranger, offering to pray for them. Even people who are not believers are touched and comforted by someone who shows their desire to comfort them and share their pain through prayer. So why were people so reluctant for us to pray with them that Sabbath afternoon? Because they knew that our prayer was like the offer you get while on vacation of a free tour which includes a brief presentation on a time share opportunity. We weren’t offering to give, we were looking to sell. And it doesn’t matter how great, how vital the product is. A sale is still a sale. We didn’t know them. We didn’t know their lives, their pain, their needs. We just showed up at their door.
Tonight as I write this, three young people have died this afternoon in a drowning incident. I’ve received several calls from people asking me to pray and Barbara and I have gladly done so and will continue to do so. I think if I let the families of those who died know I was praying for them, they would appreciate the care and concern. I think if I offered to pray with the families of those who died, they might accept. But, if I showed up on their doorstep with a tract in my hand, I’m not so sure they wouldn’t shut the door horrified at my insensitivity.
We need to pray for others, believing that in the hands of our all-powerful, all-loving God that is enough and more than enough. If more of us showed our faith and love through that kind of prayer, that would be a witness indeed, a witness that would ease the burdens of those around us—even that lady in Kagman.
Even though she sat facing away from us, wearing dark sunglasses, I could read the tension in her body clearly. Her mouth was set, her muscles tensed. I felt sorry. Sorry for whatever had led her to this place of frustration in her life. Sorry, too, that we seemed to be the most recent addition to whatever burdens she was bearing.
It was a beautiful Sabbath afternoon in Kagman. A soft breeze tempered the tropical sun. The sky was blue, the ocean in the distance vast and calm. And here we were—Barbara and I--in this woman’s carport, breaking the proverbial camel’s back.
What had we done to her, you may ask? Well, we offered to pray with her. The offer flustered her. She wanted to know, who were we again? We told her we were members of the Seventh-day Adventist Church. She pleaded that she wasn’t an Adventist. We assured her that didn’t matter. She floundered about for a few moments looking for some way—any way--out. She told a child lurking by the door to call someone else—presumably another adult—but it turns out that no rescue would be forthcoming. The relative was in the bathroom. That was when she’d had enough..
“You people, you just won’t stop. I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t. It’s against my principles.”
“Oh, it’s no problem,” I replied smoothly. “We understand. Don’t worry about it.” And we took our leave.
She was our last visit of the day, and as we walked back towards the car past all the homes we’d prayed at or attempted to pray at, I thought a lot about that woman. I wasn’t hurt or feeling rejected, but I wondered a lot about her response and whether we in fact, were somehow adding to her burdens rather than relieving them. After all, all we’d offered to do was pray with her, right? That should be a blessing not a burden!
But clearly, this woman felt that we had some ulterior motive, some agenda that we were pursuing. Clearly she’d misunderstood us and what we were about.
Or had she? After all, my right pocket was stuffed with Discovery Bible School pamphlets, my left pocket with a tract entitled “40 Bible Facts about the Sabbath.” And despite what we said in our pitch about “just going around the community and praying for people”, as if we’d just been sitting at home one Sabbath afternoon, and decided—“Hey, lets go out and pray for people”, the fact was that we were part of a campaign. As elders in our church it was our turn to lead a group of church members in what doing what’s known in evangelism parlance as groundwork. We were going door to door. Passing out tracts. Doing visitation. Witnessing. We didn’t really just want to “pray for people.” We were looking for Bible study interests, preparing the way for an upcoming evangelistic series planned for Kagman, and the ultimate goal: a new church planted in Kagman. The woman was right. We had an agenda. She knew it right away, and she wanted no part of it.
I realized that Sabbath afternoon that this kind of witnessing isn’t for me. Oh, it wasn’t so bad really. I’ve done this sort of thing before and there have been times when I’ve dreaded it so much it made me sick to my stomach. There have been times when every rejection was like a kick in the gut. But this was not one of those times. There was no dread, and the rejections we got didn’t sting. I’d simply shrug my shoulders, smile, and move on. It was actually a good afternoon. Most people declined our offer of prayer, but there were a few who did accept. These graciously invited us into our home, politely let us pray for them. And it did feel good to actually pray for those we met—either with the family, or as we walked back down the street after a rejection. It felt good to wish someone the best—to ask on their behalf for good health, encouragement, joy, safety, prosperity and know that God would honor those requests. It felt especially good, when the tracts stayed in our pockets and we walked away having genuinely done what we said we were doing “just praying for the people in the community.”
But I also saw a lot of wariness in people’s eyes. I saw lot of minds whirring away trying to figure out what we really wanted, who we really were. I sensed that a lot of the people we visited felt trapped somehow, the way you feel when you pick up the phone and the person on the other end of the line says: “Good evening, I’m Jeffery with Cingular Wireless and we have a special offer right now. . .” One person said they prayed at their own church. It’s not these people were necessarily irreligious. They just weren’t interested in the hassle of a sales pitch. Think about what the response of many Seventh-day Adventists would be to a Jehovah’s Witness or a Mormon at their door. Unless they’re like me and love theological debate, most Adventists would be thinking “Oh great. How can I get rid of them.” Even the people who responded positively to us understood, I think, what we were up to. They just had more confidence about their ability not to get roped into anything they didn’t want to be a part of. They had enough self-confidence to “give us a break” and let us do our thing and be on our way. That’s me too, by the way. I’m the door to door guy’s best friend because I’ll happily welcome you in, listen to your pitch, and consider your product—because I’m confident that you can’t sell me something I don’t really want. But not everybody is like me. In fact for many people the only thing worse than having a salesman show up at your door, is to be the salesman showing up at the door.
It’s not that I think this shotgun-style (with a shotgun you shoot in the general direction and at least some of multiple “shot” pellets will hit the target) approach to witnessing is inherently bad. It just not for me. I just don’t like sales. I spent a couple years in Amway (or Quixtar as it is now known) so I know sales and I know I don’t like it. For awhile I wondered if maybe it’s because I don’t really believe in my own product. One of the first rules of selling is that you have to genuinely believe in the product you’re selling—and I wondered, is my faith really so shallow, is my love for Jesus so tepid, my sense of urgency so mild—that I can’t convincingly sell the product. Perhaps, that’s part of it, but I don’t think I would ever enjoy selling the gospel door to door no matter how excited I am about Jesus. I love my mother too, but I can’t stand the thought of going door to door telling people about her. I know the urgency of the dangers of smoking. I don’t want to go visit smokers and try to get them to quit. Perhaps it’s a failing on my part, but I just don’t like this kind of witnessing.
But as I reflect on that poor, harried woman we left behind in that carport in Kagman, I’m not so sure that it is a failing to not want to be part of the army of Christian street soldiers of various denominational stripes “Do you know what will happen when you die?” “Do you know the Lord?” “What is the true church of Jesus Christ? “Are you looking for happiness?” “What day is the true Lord’s day?”—part of the parade of religion hawkers that have tromped through her carport. I’m not sure that Gospel should be sold like a set of steak knives or an exciting business opportunity. I’m not so sure that it’s a failing to feel that simply doing what we claim we’re doing “just praying for people” is enough, to believe that God doesn’t need us to help Him out by shoving a tract in their hands, or making this the first stage of a campaign to win souls like athletes try to win a game. It seems like we could just trust that prayer in of itself is powerful enough, and God cares enough to connect us to the people who are looking for Him without us having to help things along. Sadly every time I’ve ever done this little prayer thing we’ve always taken a tract or book with us, as if prayer by itself wouldn’t be enough.
I’m not saying that no one should go door to door. After all there are people out there literally waiting for someone to show up at their doorstep and tell them about Jesus. But I don’t think door-to-door witnessing is a church wide mandate. There are those with the gift for it, and the passion for it, and they are welcome to do it. But the rest of the church shouldn’t be made to feel guilty that they don’t want to be part of the sales force.
But I would suggest that those eager to beat the streets, hunting for lost souls, that you leave the tracts at home, and just go and pray like you say you’re doing. Don’t make it a “stepping stone” to some larger effort unless that person shows clear interest in going further. Or at the very least, be honest about what you’re about. Just tell them up front what you’re really after and let them make an informed decision. After all our job is to relieve the burdens of people like that lady in Kagman, not add to them.
When Jesus sent out his disciples he told them to “proclaim the kingdom of heaven is at hand, heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. . .” Matthew 10: 7,8. This is a world a way from the more pedestrian goal of getting people to assent to our set of beliefs, join our church, buy what we are selling.
The thing is: People really need prayer. People want prayer. They appreciate prayer. I guarantee you 99% of those people who declined our offer of prayer would actually have appreciated being prayed for. Like the R.E.M. song says “everyobody hurts.” And when people are hurting, in trouble, in need of comfort they turn to prayer, and they appreciate the sincere gift of another concerned person, even a stranger, offering to pray for them. Even people who are not believers are touched and comforted by someone who shows their desire to comfort them and share their pain through prayer. So why were people so reluctant for us to pray with them that Sabbath afternoon? Because they knew that our prayer was like the offer you get while on vacation of a free tour which includes a brief presentation on a time share opportunity. We weren’t offering to give, we were looking to sell. And it doesn’t matter how great, how vital the product is. A sale is still a sale. We didn’t know them. We didn’t know their lives, their pain, their needs. We just showed up at their door.
Tonight as I write this, three young people have died this afternoon in a drowning incident. I’ve received several calls from people asking me to pray and Barbara and I have gladly done so and will continue to do so. I think if I let the families of those who died know I was praying for them, they would appreciate the care and concern. I think if I offered to pray with the families of those who died, they might accept. But, if I showed up on their doorstep with a tract in my hand, I’m not so sure they wouldn’t shut the door horrified at my insensitivity.
We need to pray for others, believing that in the hands of our all-powerful, all-loving God that is enough and more than enough. If more of us showed our faith and love through that kind of prayer, that would be a witness indeed, a witness that would ease the burdens of those around us—even that lady in Kagman.
posted by Sean at 7:57 AM
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