Someone once eloquently said, “Christians are the expression on the face of God.”
“Christians are the expression on the face of God.”
We are called to be Christ’s presence in the world until He comes again. We are also granted the enormous privilege of participating with Him in reconciling the world (2 Cor. 5:17-21). Paul even goes so far as to say that “we are therefore Christ’s ambassadors.” If we represent Him, we must represent Him as He himself would live and act were He still here with us.
Given that reality, it is fair to ask ourselves some hard questions: How well are we doing at our assigned task? What is it that people see, sense, feel, and experience in our presence? How can we make sure that we are the winsome, graceful expression on the face of Christ that people must see in order to come to Him?
Another more difficult question could also be asked. Is it possible that we ourselves have been barriers to the potential growth of the kingdom of Christ through our churches? Permit me, please, to relate two stories from my own pastoral experience.
A secret weapon
“Robust,” as he called himself, and his friend were making a tour of the Adventist churches in my area with the express purpose of disrupting worship services. Their usual tactic was to stand up in the middle of the sermon and yell out some damaging and hurtful words about the church and its leadership. Word had come to us that we were next on their target list. Robust was a tall, somewhat heavy, long-haired, bearded fellow with a loud voice and intimidating mannerisms. His friend was less imposing and unsettling physically, but just as willing to disrupt.
They walked into our church just as Sabbath school classes were starting, and each picked a class to attend. Robust’s friend sat down in the small young adult class I was teaching.
About 10 minutes in, he stood to his feet pointed his finger directly at me, and in a loud voice demanded, “I command you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ to right now confess every sin you’ve ever committed!” While I was bracing for some sort of interruption, I was not prepared for this!
Fortunately, the Spirit kept me calm. After a few seconds of gathering myself, I kindly told him that I had a Savior to whom I confessed my sins, and then returned to teaching. He remained silent through the rest of the class.
Our larger concern, of course, was what he and Robust might do in our worship service when many more people would be impacted. But we had a secret weapon. And her name was Carol. Not much more than half Robust’s height, Carol was unafraid and unwilling to let Robust go unchallenged. But it was the nature of her challenge that was priceless.
When Robust and his friend had selected their seats, Carol came to sit with them. With a huge smile on her face, she struck up a lively and warm conversation with them both, letting them know how glad she was that they were there. She told them some things about our church and what we felt was important. She invited them to stay for the potluck, told them the food would be wonderful, it would give them a chance to meet more people, and she would personally escort them. She continued her welcoming conversation until church started and remained with them during the entire service.
I confess to more than a little anxiety during my sermon that day, wondering when Robust would disrupt the service. We were prepared—we had coached our church in weeks prior on our plan of action that, as a last resort, would include calling the police.
But Carol proved more powerful than the police. Both Robust and his friend were quiet and respectful, participated in the singing and praying, and made no attempt to disrupt our service. They enjoyed not just a great potluck with our church, but also a warm kiss on the cheek from Carol as they left.
We never saw them again.
Decommissioned
And then there’s “Randy,” a young man who had come to church one Sabbath morning and was greeted by someone in the lobby who told him that he was not dressed appropriately for church and must leave immediately. Realizing he wasn’t wanted, Randy left.
He had come that day after months of spiritual journeying and some social and financial hardship. Randy had felt the calling of God upon his heart, and after much thought had gotten up early that Sabbath morning, put on his jeans and tank top (both clean and pressed) and headed to our church to give God one last chance.
When I learned what had happened I was livid! I decided to deal with it by holding a “decommissioning” service in church the next Sabbath where I made it clear that no one is commissioned to turn away someone like this. Ever. I said, “If you think you’ve been elected to do this, please hear me. You are hereby decommissioned.” And I promised I would deal with it personally if it ever happened again on my pastoral watch.
Love: the power source
Should I even have to point out here how the power of simple love and acceptance to people who were determined to disrupt our services diffused a potentially difficult situation and perhaps brought home to the hearts of the disrupters that they were worthy of love, too—a love poured out by people who could only do this because they loved Jesus?
And should I have to say how easy it ought to be to lovingly welcome anyone who comes with a desire to give Jesus a chance in their life, regardless of how they look?
What expression on the face of God does your church give? What expression do you give? When we see someone who is “not a part of us,” do we give the same scowl that the Pharisee crowd gave Jesus when He went to dinner at His new friend Matthew’s house? Or the same look of disgust when Jesus touched a leper, a blind person, a possessed person, a dead person?
The only cure I can think of to be like Jesus to others is to know Him for yourself. Deeply. Longingly. Lovingly. All with a personal commitment and desire to be like Him at every opportunity.
Perhaps we have gotten our job description as Christians confused. It seems to me that people are most likely to be hurt by us when we decide that it is up to us to do that which only the Holy Spirit can do. Our task is not to change people. Rom. 2:4 says, “Do you show contempt for His kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?”
People repent when they are led by the Holy Spirit to do so! Our job is to provide the place and the community where that repentance can be affirmed and lived out. The church is where God’s forgiveness, grace and love are proved.
Only when we accept our role and allow God to be God will we ever present the face of Christ to the world that will show His real heart for this dark planet.
Only then will our churches be a safe place for Jesus to bring hurting and lost people.
