Vikings, Gays, and the Gospel

My one and only thought in coming up with a blog title is “How ridiculous can I make this so that people will have read it even though they really don’t want to?” If you’re here, then it worked.

I am on an airplane headed from Cincinnati OH to West Palm Beach FL (always a great exchange there) for a missions conference, and in doing so, making all of you husbands look like Romeo in comparison to me, because I am leaving my pregnant wife in OH on Valentine’s Day. I can already hear the booing from the ladies, but I promise I will OVER-celebrate it when I get back. I’m actually making progress believe it or not: I once broke up with a girlfriend via phone on V-day. Yeah. I’m THAT guy. In my defense, I didn’t know it was the 14th, so I’m more stupid than mean.

The first leg of the trip to Atlanta was not particularly fun because I’m not one of the midgets that airplane seats are designed for, and neither were the two burly lumberjack looking fellows to either side of me. We never talked, but I felt very close to them.

So, when the second flight turned out to be half full, with the rear most row of seats completely to myself, I felt like my day was looking up considerably!

While I stretched out languorously in my triple-seat, I noticed one of the flight attendants behind me. He stood out because he was very obviously foreign, and very obviously gay. I started chatting with him (gasp, he talked to a GAY), and found out that he was from Brazil, and so when I changed over to Portuguese, he was very happy. I found out that he spoke several languages, had a masters degree in Latin Literature, and when I told him that I was a Gospel preacher, that his entire family in Brazil was Evangelical.

We chatted for a while longer, then he stopped and looked at me strangely, and asked, “You know I’m gay, right?” I laughed and

told him that if he was trying to hide it he wasn’t doing very well. He laughed kind of nervously and told me that his evangelical family in Brazil had disowned him, refused to even speak to him, and he hadn’t seen them in years. “So if you’re an evangelical” he asked, “why are you being friendly to me?”

I can’t even express how angry that statement makes me. Not angry at Alex, but at us. I explained to him that “Evangelical” (not that I claim that title, it’s usually pretty vague, but that’s what he associated Baptist with) comes from the word “Gospel”, and that the essence of the Gospel is that God performed an outrageous demonstration of love by paying in Himself the penalty for OUR actions that screamed our hatred of Him. So why, I asked him, would a Christian treat you differently than God does?

I saw immediately conflicting emotions raging across his face, and they came out in his response: “But you say God hates my lifestyle, and I don’t like that. But I really appreciate that you are nice to me.”

I tried to discuss the Gospel and God’s hatred for ALL sin further, but he shut down, and wandered off to the front of the plane. He’s still there now, and I’m praying God lets me talk to him further!

I started reading my book again when a second flight attendant sat down, a lady this time. I had heard her voice on the intercom telling us how to unbuckle a seat belt (like we didn’t KNOW that? What, like I was going to try ripping through the fabric with my bare hands because I can’t grasp the concept of the buckle?), and her perfect English was just barely accented.

One of my favorite pastimes (being a missionary kid, and therefore bizarre) is picking out accents: not just “Oh he’s from somewhere in the UK”, or “she’s Latina”, but specifically what country, or even area of the country. Like I said, I’m weird, but that’s fun to me.

I turned and asked her if she was Swedish, and she was very surprised, but said “no… but close! I’m Danish”. I wanted to say, “I’m donut”, but I thought it would be rude.

For the next half hour we talked about Vikings, Scandinavian culture, her family, and background. When finally the conversation came back around to my line of work, I asked her if she was Lutheran. She told me her family was, but she had no religion. I told her I wasn’t Lutheran, but he had some things right, which led to a discussion of the Sola’s of the Reformation (only Scripture, only by faith, only by grace, only Christ, only glory to God). We talked about the message of the Bible, and she said she had never heard anything like it, but wanted to come to my church sometime in Atlanta because she lived close by. She’s off now serving irritable travelers midget sized drinks, but I’m praying we get to talk more before we land.

This flight was a good reminder of some things to me about the Gospel, and I needed it. So I thought I’d give you a couple quick thoughts that might be a help to you as well, if you’re still reading this absurdly long blog post:

1. We’re not the Judge, so put down the gavel.

I have been very guilty in the past of not wanting to talk to homosexuals, and giving in to what I labeled a hatred for sin, but was really just stinking pride. I’m trying to work on that. It’s very easy to hide behind biblical truth such as “it’s an abomination”, and “God hates that sin”, when in fact we think that we are better than them, and that our own sin is somehow less disgusting to God.

I’m all for a hatred and revulsion for sin, but that means ALL sin. That means that in my Christian life, I am constantly being driven back to the Cross, seeing who and what I was, and the price that was paid for it. It means I hate the sin that keeps worming its way back into my life. It means I hate to see it destroying other lives and keeping people from God. It does NOT mean that I judge people unworthy of hearing the Gospel, because it is Good News precisely BECAUSE we are unworthy of it.

Jesus didn’t even condemn people, in fact He said that He came to save, not to judge. He didn’t pull any punches though, because He turned right around and told His audience that their own sin would condemn them on the day of judgment. Gay people, like everyone else, need to hear that their sin will condemn them: but they need to hear the truth that it doesn’t need to, because it’s been PAID FOR.

2. Every Christian should be an Anthropologist.

Anthropologists are students of mankind: both in the physical sense, and in the cultural sense. I have a huge leg up on most people in talking to people different from me because I’m a nerdy missionary kid, but let me say this if you struggle with finding opportunities to witness to people you meet: A student of cultures will never lack for conversation.

What I mean is simply this: ASK QUESTIONS! And I don’t just mean “If you died right now would you go to Heaven” Have you ever noticed that people like to talk about themselves? Everyone has not only a macro culture (American, Spanish, etc), but a personal micro culture dictated by their family, their history, their likes and dislikes, etc. I’m afraid that many times we think that sharing Christ means knocking down an unopened door and giving them both barrels, when many times we should develop a connection first. That’s not “lifestyle evangelism”; it’s just loving people!
If you don’t know much about other cultures, that’s OK! Just ask questions and you’ll learn, and you’ll get real chances to live out the Gospel by showing them the love of Christ, and to speak out the Gospel as God opens that door.

3. You’re responsible for YOUR obedience to the Gospel, not theirs.

The Bible is pretty clear that each one of us who have been saved by belief in the Gospel have a responsibility (and privilege) to tell it to others. But maybe you’re like me, and you stress out because people reject. I’m waiting for my ride outside the airport now, and I never got to talk with them more. I keep going over in my mind how I could have said more, explained better, prayed harder. I have a tendency to beat myself up like that, and it’s neither healthy nor biblical.

It’s not my job to convict, it’s not my job to save. It’s my job to obey God and tell. It’s my job to plant and water as the Lord of the Harvest puts people in my path and moves me to speak. But He’s the Lord of the Harvest, not me. He’s the one who put them there. He’s the one who seeks and saves and gives life.

Sometimes we get to rejoice as we see Him give life… I’m thinking about Brandon in Panama City who I got to lead to the Lord a couple weeks ago. He was so broken over his sin that the Gospel gave him comfort as he threw himself completely on a merciful God and His finished work on the cross. I LOVE seeing that, and if you’re reading this Brandon, I love you, I’m proud of you, and praying God uses you big time.

But sometimes we see rejection. OFTEN we see rejection. And we simply can’t let people’s response to the Gospel be what decides whether we preach it or not. We preach it because we love Jesus, we obey Jesus, and we love the people He loves: even Vikings and gays.