Despite the ominous clouds overhead, most people at the neighborhood picnic were talking in little groups, everyone wearing name tags. I dodged the happy groups and headed straight for the couple sitting in camp chairs far back from the activity.
“Hey, I’m Janet,” I said, “thank you for coming! I’m at 6600 down the road. The house with the brick pillars along the road.”
Introducing ourselves at the picnic followed a pattern: name plus where you lived in the neighborhood.
“So, where do you live?” I asked. Their names were scrawled on adhesive nametags, so I didn’t bother asking the obvious.
“Well, actually, we don’t live here; we’re just visiting from Wisconsin,” the woman replied.
“Honestly? You could’ve told me you lived here and I would’ve believed you,” I replied.
I laughed. She laughed. I was only half-joking.
My family and I had lived here for 23 years, but for all I knew, this young couple could’ve lived next door the whole time.
We were a disconnected bunch of neighbors in a disconnected nation. Hyper-connected online but bereft of a friend right next door.
But that was about to change.
***
We say the most important things when we’re saying goodbye. Especially when it’s goodbye for a lifetime. Jesus finished the work His Father gave Him – to sacrifice His life as a payment for sin. God the Father completed that work by raising Jesus from the dead, bringing forth the firstborn of many children. God’s family. Now it was time for Jesus to say goodbye to His closest disciples and dearest friends.
Now was the time to tell them what mattered most.
And Jesus came up and spoke to them, saying, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to Me. Go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to follow all that I commanded you; and behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:18-20 NASB
The great commission, given to these men on a mountaintop, reverberates forward through the millennia to Jesus’ disciples today. Tell everyone about Jesus.
I’ve been a sideline Christian when it comes to evangelism.
When I thought of evangelism, I thought of a hyperactive person yelling at me from a streetcorner. Or perhaps wearing a sandwich board with a dramatic statement painted in aggressive-looking letters. Evangelism was confrontational.
In its milder form, evangelism was a gentler approach. Talk to strangers about Jesus. Waylay them from their progress through Wal-Mart, interrupt them as they steer their kids toward the museum, or put a microphone under their nose and interview them for an evangelism training film. All this, and try to get a commitment to Christ in five minutes. The clock is ticking.
I found those methods intrusive, sometimes even offensive, and I’m a Christian!
Those public evangelism methods were for extroverts and preachers, special people designated with God’s personal commission. No place for an introvert like me who almost always sat alone in church.
Still, there were other, less obnoxious methods to share the gospel. How about going to a stranger’s house and “sharing the gospel” quietly. After all, you were invited in, right? Or standing in front of the entire congregation to share your testimony. Slides are optional.
Here’s one last example: tell the waitress about Jesus when she swings by to take your drink order. Because she’s available, listening, and wants a good tip when you’re finished eating.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not mocking people like the ones I’ve described. People who have the energy and compassion for people, who want to save lost souls so much that they’d stand on a street corner and preach to a world that hates them – these believers are rockstars. Many people are in heaven today because of believers like them. I admire such people.
But my admiration comes with a dark side: Shame.
I’m ashamed that everything in my personality recoils at the extroverted brand of evangelism that gets so much attention in America.
Is there a place in the evangelism world for a quiet believer like me?
Some well-meaning Christians, including pastors, would tell you that it doesn’t matter if it goes against your personality, if you’re shaking in your shoes, if you want to vomit or crawl under a rock. Just do it anyway! Obey the great commission!
But the truth is, my personality counts. So does yours. If God doesn’t equip you beyond the limits of your personality, then you won’t do the extroverted brand of evangelism. You might work up the courage once or twice. You might even get an emotional high from breaking through the fear. But you won’t thrive, and you won’t look forward to it. You’ll dread evangelism and you’ll quit. You’ll call yourself a failure.
You’d feel the same kind of soul-winning-failure shame that I’ve wrestled with for years.
You’d call yourself a failure.
You’d be wrong.
Because evangelism isn’t just for the loud voices and the “people” people. It’s also for the introverts and the quietly compassionate souls sitting next to you at church.
Which brings me back to the picnic. And before that, to the pandemic.
***
A few months into the pandemic, when the loneliness and boredom were sinking into our bones, I felt a nudge from the Lord: “Start a Facebook group for the neighborhood.”
Good idea, Lord. We can get to know each other. Share neighborhood news, and whatnot. Yes, I’ll get to it. Eventually.
A few days later, I felt the nudge turn into a kick in the pants: “Start a Facebook group for the neighborhood.”
Okay, Lord.
“No, make the sign now and post it next to the Stop sign at the top of the road. Now.”
I got up, grabbed my laptop, and formed a Facebook group. Then I marched out to the workshop, grabbed a sheet of cardboard, and painted a sloppy sign:
Bored? Get to know your neighbors. Join the neighborhood Facebook group –
and I painted the name of the group.
I brought along a power drill and a few screws. The most awful-looking sign you ever saw got attached to the Stop sign at the entrance to the neighborhood. Everyone in the neighborhood exited here, so everyone was sure to see the sign. While I was still standing next to my ugly sign, the first neighbor rolled up. He read the sign and gave me a thumbs up.
I went home and I waited.
Neighbors joined in large numbers over the next few days. Member requests continued to trickle in weekly over the next two years, although the bulk of members joined in the first few weeks that the sign was up. Even when the cardboard turned to mush in the rain and the sign fell off the post, neighbors joined the group. We all wanted connection. It took forced disconnection to remind us. God had put the desire to belong, to be deeply known and to know deeply, into the hearts of every person. That desire made us seek each other and seek God. So people joined the group. It was a great start.
Two years later, I felt another nudge: The neighborhood needs to get together in person. Online connection was nice but not enough. How about a neighborhood picnic?
I needed human connection, a sense of belonging and a sense of place. Maybe others needed it, too.
More than that, I had a strong sense that the gospel should be preached now. My prayers had gotten stronger lately: Save them, Lord. Save them. Save the world. Preach the gospel.
I wasn’t called to a pulpit, but maybe I could serve these people. My neighbors weren’t projects to me, but people who needed God’s love. And I needed fellowship as much as they did. Win-win. I would say yes to God’s latest idea and leave the rest to Him. Besides, this was fun!
I wrote up a short post proposing a neighborhood picnic, posted it on the Facebook group, and waited. The responses rolled in.
“I would love that!”
“Sounds great”
“Sounds great!”
“Count us in!”
“In…love this idea”
“Love the idea”
(thumbs up)
(thumbs up)
“Great idea”
“Would love it”
“I’m in”
As event planning got underway, I saw God’s hand everywhere:
- More than two years before the neighborhood picnic, God provided a way for us to communicate with each other and have an online hub to plan the event. By posting details on the group and limiting how much information I put on the event sign that I placed at the entrance to the neighborhood (there I went making ugly signs again), we could limit attendance to our neighbors only.
- When I needed to find a location to host the picnic, I considered my neighbors’ properties and considered one neighbor’s house in particular. Perfect! Big yard, flat, lots of shady trees with swings, a gazebo, and on a corner with plenty of parking. Without me ever mentioning a thing, this exact neighbor volunteered he and his wife’s home to host the picnic. That’s God.
- A neighbor – Trish – volunteered to help me plan. When she dropped by my house, I told her I couldn’t stay long because I was headed to fellowship group. She asked me to let her know if I ever wanted to create a fellowship group in our neighborhood. Just the thing I was hoping to do soon.
- When I needed to rent a portable toilet – unglamorous but necessary – and I couldn’t afford to pay for it all myself, then I prayed. A few days later, a neighbor gave me cash. The funds were enough to pay the full balance of the rental price.
- The entire week leading up to the picnic was fraught with afternoon thunderstorms. Early in the week, the forecast for the day of the picnic looked clear, so we didn’t reschedule the event to our rain date. But by the day of the event, storms were predicted. We stood under the shade of the massive oak tree, anxiously watching the storm cells on our phones’ weather radar. But a funny thing happened: the cells split to the northeast and southwest with a blank space between the storms. The blank gap among the storms was right over our area. (We did get a brief, 15-minute rain shower, which proved to be a bonding opportunity as we took shelter in the garage, laughing and talking and toweling off the rain drops on our faces and hair. A surprising number of people stayed through the rain and talked and fellowshipped right up until closing time.)
- A week before the event, I talk to a friend about how I didn’t know how to approach people about the gospel. What do I say? That was always the hardest part. The next day was Sunday. Guess what associate pastor Dennis Fay preached about? Personal evangelism, and how knowing what to say was usually the hardest part.
- One neighbor – she and her husband hosted the picnic on their property – loved games. She was also a cornhole aficionado. I told her that my church hosted a cornhole tournament about once a year, but I had no idea when the next one would be. The next day, Grace Church announced the next cornhole tournament. You can bet I invited my neighbor!
- The woman who helped me plan the picnic hugged me goodbye. Then she said, “Let’s do a Bible study, even if it’s just the two of us.”
***
The neighborhood picnic was easy to plan. I looked forward to fellowshipping with my neighbors, but I’m still a born introvert and my nature hadn’t changed just because this picnic was my idea. So my plan was simple: I assigned myself the job of making everyone else feel welcome. Taking the focus off myself – because, honestly, who’s paying that much attention to me anyway? – calmed my nerves. This method had an additional benefit: I could introduce a spiritual subject without being pushy.
As I smiled and greeted my neighbors, the conversation usually went something like this:
“Hi, my name is Janet. Thank you so much for coming. I live at 6600, the house with the short brick pillars along the road.”
(shake hands)
“Hey, I’m ___________. Thank you for doing this! It’s great.”
“I prayed this would go well and, thank God, it has. You know, we hope this is the beginning of other things in the neighborhood like, maybe, a book club, or writers’ club, or a Bible study fellowship group, or a game day or something like that.”
At this point, a conversation might pick up on a spiritual subject, and proceed naturally from there. Most of the time, though, it planted a seed of expectation. Now, if I mention forming a Bible study fellowship group in the future, these neighbors will know what I’m talking about because I dropped a hint of things to come in our conversation.
The picnic was a roaring success. Double the number of neighbors attended compared to who RSVP’d. I hope, and expect in Jesus’ name, that the event was the start of many good things. God’s hand is in it, and His plans never fail.
The neighborhood picnic was a beginning. With next to no experience in talking to people about Jesus, I only have faith to convince me that this beginning will lead on from here. But God has taught me a few lessons in the short window of planning and executing a community event, and I’d like to share what I’ve learned with you:
- People are rarely ready to make a commitment to Christ the first time you talk with them. Mostly, you’re building relationships that the Holy Spirit uses to lead a person to faith over time.
- The most effective soul-winner I know is a pastor who never went to seminary. His sermons are simple, and he isn’t a master orator. But people know he cares about them deeply. They see his deep faith in Jesus and his profound and genuine interest in people. Seeing people, really seeing them, breaks down barriers and opens hearts to hearing about Jesus. Focus on relationships. Make people feel seen and known. Then they can hear about your faith.
- It might be fun.
- Our personality is always an asset. Does it make sense that God would design you as an introvert, then ask you to win souls with only extrovert-oriented methods? What a waste that would be. God is no fool, and He designed you the way you are because your personality is an asset to the kingdom of heaven. Are you an extrovert? Use that. Extroverts are great at making new people feel welcome, inviting people into a group, making visitors comfortable, and organizing events with the energy to see them through. Extroverts aren’t intimidated by hard questions, and say what should be said. The kingdom needs you. Are you an introvert? Use that. Introverts see people in a way others don’t. Introverts can go deeply with a few people, rather than wide but shallow as extroverts do. Thoughtful, considerate, and compassionate, introverts are excellent at discipleship. You make connections that nurture, that last. The kingdom needs you.
- Create opportunities. People are wildly in need of personal, face-to-face connection. Go where people are going, or create those events yourself. Do what you already want to do: I would love to enjoy a neighborhood Bible study fellowship, or a writers’ club, or a book club. This isn’t hardship evangelism, it’s a pleasure. I walked away from the neighborhood picnic tired but deeply happy. If you like doing something, then there is someone else who enjoys it, too.
- God is responsible for the results. He calls people to Himself, so take the pressure off yourself to make things happen.
- Connection first, then opportunity. People aren’t projects, and they want to be seen and known before they’ll open up to all the rest.
- What matters most? A person’s eternal soul and where that soul will go after death.
- Finally, follow-up is important. It’s easy to ride the emotional high of a success, but don’t stop there. Plan the next event. Call that person and invite her over. Make a time and a place. Create the Facebook group or the club. Use your natural talents, gifts, and interests to build connections. Work with yourself, not against yourself. God’s hand is in it.
I’m a brand new to sharing my faith, but I’d like to think I’m not on the sidelines anymore. God is using me the way I was made to serve the people He loves. I’m so grateful.
Oh, and my neighbor, Trish, is coming over tomorrow.
-Janet Khokhar