Open Forum: How to share the Gospel
These are the rules:
Anyone can comment, Christian or not.
No attacking anyone or your comment will be deleted. (Acceptable: “I don’t understand your comment”, “can you please explain the logic behind X”, “Are there Bible verses to support that?” Unacceptable: “You obviously know nothing about the Bible”, “that’s the stupidest logic I’ve ever heard”, “curl up and die.”)
Note: I did let a bit of a battle fight itself out on my previous Open Forum, but both parties seemed willing to take off the gloves and they were big kids and could resolve their own sandbox wars. People who are known to me and I trust to use their brains will receive more leniency than strangers. I apologize to any that may confuse or offend- but such is life. We tolerate from friends far more than we would from strangers, because we know the hearts of our friends.
So- today’s open forum. How should we share the Gospel?
If you are a Christian, answer the following two Questions:
- What do you believe the ideal way is in which to share the hope you have in Christ?
- When was the last time you did? Would you like to tell us about it?
If you aren’t a Christian (or are, and feel adventurous) answer the following:
- Do Christians ever evangelize you? If so- how do they do it?
- Does it leave you with a positive or negative impression of Christianity?
- Does that impression carry over to Christ?
Thank you in advance to everyone who plays!
coreydavis replied:
Since I am a Christian I’ll answer the first two:
1. The ideal way would be the way found in the Bible. We need to tell people who Jesus is and what he’s done for them. We don’t need to give stories about how bad we were but how good we are now. My experiences are not the gospel (the good news)- Jesus’ experiences are the gospel. The teachings of His inspired apostles are the gospel. If we kept things simple rather than trying to give overly emotional stories and stick to the truth of God’s word, we would do well.
2. The last time I shared the hope I have in Christ was yesterday. I was privileged to preach yesterday morning and night. I talked about what grace is, what it isn’t, and how we access that grace. I talked about 4 very important lessons in the Bible, all of which can be taught beginning with Cain & Abel.
It is always rewarding for me to preach the gospel of Christ. Since I work alone and regularly only see my Christian family, preaching and teaching at my congregation is one of the best avenues I have to tell others. I also attempt to write helpful religious articles on my blog and to discuss matters with others with differing viewpoints.
May 12, 2008 at 6:10 pm. Permalink.
M54 replied:
“1. What do you believe the ideal way is in which to share the hope you have in Christ?”
Since we all have the ability to receive information differently I don’t think there is a single “ideal way”. What works for one will be awkward for another. I believe God created each of us uniquely and we should draw on that uniqueness. I live my life (to the best of my abiilty) by Biblical principles and operate my business the same way. Rarely does a week go by tha some stranger askes me where I go to church. That opens the door for me to step in to their personal life. I don’t share much about my past but if it’s a grandmother dealing with grandchildren who are rebellious or whatever the Lord seems to give me a Word for them.
“2. When was the last time you did? Would you like to tell us about it?”
Last week… I think, I’ll have to give that some thought so I won’t purposefully mislead. I am not sure I will get into to much detail because it may seem a bit selacious.
The bottom line is to leave each person with the knowledge that their life can be different with Jesus. However, I think, the BIGGEST disservice we can do to the un-churched is to tell them that some how if they just confess Jesus as Lord that everything will be better. Probably not but maybe eventually. But over time as we prove ourself faithful we will begin to see change.
May 12, 2008 at 6:52 pm. Permalink.
jaklumen replied:
The ONLY thing I can speak for is my depth of conviction. Humans are fallible. They often fall all over their faces trying to do the right thing– well, at least, I do.
I tend to ramble, so I will forebear from answering the questions point-by-point, although I wish to speak to all of them. It is my firm belief that the failings of believers do not dictate failure of their doctrine. I do speak out against the attacks on organized religion. Yes, I have gone to church with many who have judged me and criticized me in my weakness. Understand, I have indeed felt like I should not go for those very reasons. But I decided that I would go for ME, not for them.
I spoke of service in another post. “Be a filler, not a dipper” is a motto I try to live by, in an analogy of the soul as a bucket of water. It has been my experience when I take, take, take, I feel increasingly empty. But if I make a reasonable effort to give, somehow, I am filled.
This is very easy to say and sometimes very hard to do. But that is how it has seemed to me. I also am trying harder to avoid the yin of criticism, so I might feel the yang of reconciliation and forgiveness. I am usually much harder on myself than anyone else, and therefore, if I can follow such, I can better “love my neighbor as myself.” No, I do not appreciate ham-fisted and heavy-handed evangelical approaches, but I am constantly reminded how I judge them is how I will reflexively judge myself. If I try harder to “prove betimes with sharpness… thereafter showing an increase of love”, so much is it easier to allow myself to receive the same.
How might I better share the Gospel? I must let go. I must let go of my own fear, anger, hatred, and suffering– they pile upon each other like layers of an onion. There have been some that have shattered my trust so deeply, and I want so badly to retaliate, but I know in Whom I have trusted. I know, for me, myself, that He balances justice with mercy– and so I struggle daily to let go, with the hope that those wounds may eventually be healed.
I reserve a special place in my heart for the abused and neglected. I remember what it was like. It still hurts, every day. I try to be as compassionate and as understanding as I can, to try to show the same divine grace as I have felt.
I can’t write anymore without totally breaking down… sorry…
May 12, 2008 at 9:14 pm. Permalink.
Julie replied:
How do I share the Gospel? Mostly by just loving. God is love and many times I know that the only way I can really love a person is through God because I, in my human way, get annoyed or find something I really don’t like about different people. I smile at my neighbors. I help with the food truck. I give clothes to people who I know need it. When you work with the basic needs of people, many times the opportunity comes to share a little of where the love came from. I take those opportunities to talk about Jesus. Since we moved, it’s been a little rough for me to really get to know people enough for them to let me do more than just smile or whatever, but at least I’m able to do some small things. I gave the kids extra snacks to share with their friends in the neighborhood. I come out and talk with the kids and let them know I’m interested in who they are and that I think that they are each special.
Other than the kids in my neighborhood, the last time I shared was on Saturday. I had gone to JCPenneys to find a blouse to wear for church on Sunday as I don’t know where any of my short sleeved blouses have gone. When I arrived, it was a madhouse. I drove around and around the parking lot trying to find a space. Finally, I pulled around a corner and saw an older man at a vehicle. I stopped and waited as he opened the door to the car. He then closed the door and looked around as if confused and started heading back to the store. I rolled down my window and asked him if everything was okay. He said he couldn’t remember where he’d left his wife. I tried to see if a few questions would jog his memory, but it didn’t work. I saw a car pulling out farther back, so I parked my van and got out and walked him back into the store. We walked around a little bit until we found his wife sitting where he’d left her. She said that he’d had a stroke not too long ago and forgot things easily now. She’d sat down for a few minutes and took her eyes off of him to check her bags and he was gone. He had thought that he should bring the car up to the door for her, but then had trouble finding the car and once he did, he’d forgotten where she was. Then I took a heavy bag from her and helped them back to where the car was parked.
It was just a little thing to do, but at the end, we talked just a little bit about why I did what I did. I didn’t know these people and will probably never see them again, but by showing them love through helping them, I have planted a little bit of God’s love in them.
May 13, 2008 at 2:19 am. Permalink.
Stephanie replied:
Lindsey-
I believe sharing the gospel is everything that you shared a couple post ago in “I’m not evangelical”.
Not too long ago, there was a young man who would come by to visit me at work frequently. He had been homeless for awhile, he was poor, his life was in a gym bag, didn’t have much at all and didn’t take very good care of himself.
My family and myself provided food, clothing, money and he had found a place to stay.
But one day, after talking with him for a bit, he said “I wonder why I can’t hang out with someone like you or your family. Why do I end up around those who are abusive and want to do drugs all the time?”
At that moment, my heart was pierced. We had given him much and prayed with him but who would hang out with him? Share a meal with him? Talk with him? Minister to him?
For many different reasons I think the church scares a lot of people these days and sometimes we are the only church they have.
Sad to say, sharing the gospel in the way you described a couple post ago and in the way I am talking about now, I haven’t done that in a few weeks.
Thanks Lindsey for the challenging question.
May 13, 2008 at 5:38 pm. Permalink.
e2tc replied:
Lindsey, these *are* challenging questions… and I’m really not sure how to answer them.
Based on my own conversion alone, I’d have to say that talking with people about God’s love for them, who Jesus is (etc.) is important. But the people who talked with me and tried to answer all of the hard questions I was posing weren’t just talk – they were kind, loving, accepting, glad to have me as a guest, the whole nine yards. They were never – in any way – condemning, which was not at all the stereotype I had of many “church people.”
And they were loving enough to also pose some hard questions to me. In seeking the answers for myself, I came to the conclusion that Jesus is who he says he is. My life was – is – changed tremendously as a result.
One thing that happened after my conversion: I ran smack into many beliefs (mostly coming from Evangelical Protestant churches of various types) that i’d never encountered in my own upbringing in a more “high church” Protestant setting. it seemed at the time that if I were to be a Christian, I needed to accept all of these new (to me) doctrines and customs without questioning them.
Over the course of many years, I’ve learned that quite a few of those “extra” things are optional – and that an awful lot of them are customs rather than God-ordained commandments.
One of those things was the fervent insistence on “winning souls for Christ.” I carried a very heavy burden, thinking that I had to fulfill some sort of quota in that regard. It didn’t feel right – but I believed it for many years, while at the same time struggling with a natural reticence in regard to speaking about spiritual matters.
So I’m not at all sure when I last had a conversation with someone about the 4 spiritual laws (or whatever), but I’m sure it was a long time ago.
However, with friends (of varying beliefs), I do talk about how my beliefs affect my decisions, actions and perceptions. In so doing, I’ve found – to my amazement – that most “non-Christians” (I don’t like the term, hence the quotation marks) are far more open-minded about hearing someone out than are many so-called “believers.” (I’m thinking that a lot of this disparity is born of the difference between cultural norms rather than from any doctrinal or theological differences, though the latter do play a part at times.)
So maybe my approach would be summed up in this: to take people where they are, as they are, and to care about them. This is what Jesus did. Caring about them can mean showing kindnesses in highly practical ways (giving someone a ride, cooking a meal, babysitting, filling in for them at work), as well as just hanging out and being friends.
The Gospels say little about Jesus’ everyday interactions with people overall – we don’t know all the particulars of how he spoke and acted with his birth family, with his friends, with people he’d never met before. But from what is in Scripture, we’ve got a pretty good idea that he lived out everything he taught.
We are not perfect; we make mistakes, we flounder around at times. But I honestly believe that if one’s heart is in the right place – seeking to do as Jesus did – then God’s love can be communicated.
Hope this answers at least some of the questions in your post!
May 13, 2008 at 11:37 pm. Permalink.
Koenok replied:
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July 25, 2008 at 6:44 pm. Permalink.
don replied:
I simply state what Jesus said: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.”
I follow that up with another statement of Christ: “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me has everlasting life.
I then tell them that Jesus came to earth from God the Father to die as a sacrifice for all our sin, past, present and future. His death and resurrection assure us eternal life if we put our faith in Him.
I then tell them I’m willing to attempt to answer any questions they may have.
January 10, 2009 at 1:50 am. Permalink.
SaroEarneve replied:
Шиш, успокаивала я себя, ежась на ветру. Ничего… Борзо получу права, а мой обожаемый благоверный разорится, едва, для машину. И тутто – прощай навеки тесный в автобусе и прогулки сообразно этим колдобинам! Путь мой ежедневный лежал путем территорию гаражного кооператива, и не было дня, для я не думала об этом. Я уже почти пробралась сквозь магазин гаражей, когда кто-то осторожный тронул меня за плечо.
- Людмила Федоровна?
Окликнувший меня надтреснутый женский гик напомнил мне голос одной маминой подруги.
- Ейей, – с готовностью обернулась я, прежде расплываясь в улыбке, – А с чего это вдруг сообразно имени-отчеству?
Но это была вовсе не мамина подруга. Смех долго сползла с моего лица.
- Извините, – пряча мнение, сказала женщина, – Вы меня не узнаете?
- Простите, разве мы знакомы?
Женщине было лет около пятьдесят, у нее были некрасивые черты лица, тонкие рот, и одета она была довольно безвкусно. С такими я обычно компаний не вожу, неужели который для работе.
- Не узнаете? Начинать, это неважно, – пробормотала моя собеседница, – Понимаете, моему сыну плохо!
- Господи, а который с ним?
- Немедленно! – засуетилась она, бочком вталкивая меня в дверь одного из боксов, – Безотлагательно! Немедленно вы все узнаете…
Но плохо почти не стало мне самой. В гараже вместо бедного умирающего юноши меня ожидал… десяток угрюмо молчащих пожилых дам в возрасте от сорока лет и старше.
- Здравствуйте, – пролепетала я, охваченная нехорошим предчувствием, – А где…
Из строя женщин вышла стриженная под «каре» эксцентричная человек в черных очках и вельветовых джинсах, явный не в себе.
- Ведь вас же по-хорошему предупреждали, – без всякого вступления начала она, – Звонили, капитал предлагали. А вы? Разве так трудно было пойти нам навстречу? Неужели вы не понимали, где окажутся наши мальчики, когда их отчислят?!
Господи! Так это что, мамаши моих бывших студентов?! Если беспричинно, то беседа довольно тяжелым – меня ведь не наобум называют изза глаза поставщиком кадров для ведомства Паши-мерседеса… Начинать, не умею я пить зачеты по-капиталистически. И паки терпеть не могу, когда на меня «наезжают» всякие прыщавые юнцы. Это только укрепляет меня в мысли, что им со мной в одном вузе делать нечего.
Только это в аудитории беспричинно хорошо заключаться смелой и принципиальной. А здесь, разве честно, у меня затряслись поджилки…
- Я простой честно делаю свою работу! – принялась оправдываться я, понемногу отступая к двери, – Извините, только как же иначе?
После моей спиной крикливо лязгнул засов. Заманившая меня сюда лахудра понимающе покачала головой – мол, о побеге и не думай.
- Послушаете! – воскликнула я, теряя снисхождение, – Ну чего вы теперь-то через меня хотите?!
- Сколько мы хотим! Что мы хотим?!! – точный взвыли престарелые мегеры, и, подобно сообразно команде, набросилась для меня с кулаками.
Чувствовалось, который дрались они не часто. Однако их было чрезвычайно много. Так что покуда двое крепко держали меня следовать руки, остальные колотили, гораздо придется. Меня били накануне тех пор, временно у меня не потемнело в глазах и не подкосились ноги. Наверное, били и затем, только я этого уже не помнила…
Очнулась я через холода и сырости – кажется, меня окатили из ведра водой. Я лежала на полу едва голая, если не вменять чулок, туфель и мокрой разодранной блузки. Тело мучительно ныло, во рту ощущался привкус крови. Довольно пострадала прическа. Только самым страшным была неопределенность, в которой я пребывала. То, который меня избили, я вторично могла хоть как-то объяснить. Но зачем надо было меня вдобавок и раздевать?
- Очухалась? – недобро усмехнулась тонкими подкрашенными губами та, кому я была обязана своим появлением здесь, – Ну, тогда продолжим…
- Который – продолжим? – тряхнула я гудящей, наравне колокол, головой.
- Учить тебя, сучка ты эдакая! Чтоб неповадно было наших детишек изнурять!
В отчаянии мне захотелось драка за голову, и исключительно безотлагательно я почувствовала, сколько руки мои связаны за спиной. Так, этого один не хватало…
- Согласен кого я мучила? Пустите! – простонала я, начиная течь в панику, – Вы меня с кем-то путаете!
Меня рывком подняли для ноги. Я чуть не заплакала от унижения, заметив в толпе мужчину. Его я узнала сразу. Это был собственник шиномонтажа, хронический пьяница и отец одного из моих бывших студентов. Днесь этот безобразный мужичок, якобы всегда, подшофе, стоял около компрессора ради накачки шин и, поигрывая его черным резиновым шлангом, нагло пялился на мои неприкрытые прелести.
- Ничего мы не путаем, Людмила Федоровна! – ткнула в меня узловатым пальцем в подбородок тонкогубая лахудра, – Давай, Петрович, покажи ей кузькину мать! Пускай вспомнит моего сыночка Гришеньку!
Следовать моей спиной послышалась странная возня. Кто-то развел в сторону мои ягодицы.
- Который вы делаете?!! – в ужасе завопила я, поняв, который шланг компрессора вставляют мне в зад.
- Учить тебя будем, коза!
Тогда же мощнейший оплеуха под дых совершенно согнул меня пополам – это Петрович открыл легкий вентиль. Из моих глаз брызнули плач, дыхание перехватило. Покуда я с выпученными глазами хватала ртом воздух, мои палачи удовлетворенно потирали руки.
- Что, весело, госпожа Андрейчук? – ехидно спросила тетка в вельветовых джинсах, – А когда моего Вовочку в армию спроваживала, так же веселились?
– Следовать что?! – прохрипела я, – Я же ему такого не делала!
- Ты ему хуже сделала, – вкрадчиво пояснила тетка, дохнув мне в образина алкоголем, – Ты его на два возраст без мамочки оставила! Начинать, Петрович!!!
Петрович вновь дал, верно беспричинно, который мои глаза едва не вылезли их орбит. Сообразно кишкам как ударили кувалдой. Хорошо паки, сколько шланг под давлением воздуха вытолкнуло из моей попки, и это дало мне небольшую передышку. К сожалению, продлилась она недолго.
- Нечего пердеть тогда при всех, гадина! – злобно прошипела мать известного оболтуса Евгения Ефанова, пихая шланг обратно в мою задницу.
- Да сколько же вы творите?! – взвыла я.
Губы у меня тряслись, из отверстие ручьями лились слезы, и я ничто не могла с этим поделать. Однако муки мои, похоже, лишь забавляли озверевшую свору мамаш.
- Заткнись, я сказала! А ты, Петрович, качни-ка ей кроме разок изза моего Женечку!
- Может хватит качать-то, бабоньки? – засомневался Петрович, глядя для мое перекошенное лицо.
- Такой умница был Женечка! Такой образованный, такой гуманный! – заламывая руки, продолжала причитать Ефановская мамаша, – А эта стерва…
- Правда ваш Женя весь занятий не посещал! – в отчаянии выкрикнула я, потому который это была истинная правда.
- Не ври, сука!
Для этот единовременно залп сжатого воздуха был такой силы, что я не устояла для ногах и, густо рыгнув, осела на пол.
- Так тебе, вражина! – пнула меня в урчащий жизнь Ефанова и, довольная, отошла в сторонку наблюдать после моими корчами.
Не успела я отдышаться, чистый для смену ей подскочила неопрятная толстая тетка в рейтузах, и тоже начала просить Петровича поддать мне «газу» следовать ее ненаглядного отпрыска. «Ой-ой! – с тихим ужасом подумала я, нервно подергивая стянутыми за спиной запястьями, – Когда меня будут накачивать в жопу следовать каждого потерявшего отсрочку обалдуя, то я бойкий отсюда не выйду…» Самое обидное, сколько дитя этой тетки, неказистый сутулый мужчина со игривый фамилией Гопак, не успевал абсолютно сообразно всем предметам, беспричинно который его выгнали затем первой же сессии отнюдь не исключительно сообразно моей милости.
- … и вот разлеглась она тут, глаза бесстыжие! – кликушествовала тетка в рейтузах, потрясая пред всеми моими узкими ажурными трусиками, – Выше Олежек в сапогах глину месит, а она на шпильках шастает! Чулки надела! Манду выбрила! Веревочку блядскую в жопу заправила! Тьфу! Ну-ка, газани ей, Петрович, в эту самую жопу!!
Впечатленный Петрович не заставил себя продолжительно упрашивать. Я почти успела ощутить вибрацию шланга в заднице, точно мои глаза вновь полезли из орбит. Для сей единовременно меня мучили достанет долго. А чтобы шланг больше не вышибало наружу, тетка в рейтузах услужливо придерживала его рукой. Печаль через распирания живота была несусветная.
- А-а-а!!! – истошно визжала я, ужом извиваясь на полу, – Не могу!!! Прекратите!!! Очень!!!
От страха, что мои кишки вот-вот лопнут, я уже не пыталась изображать гордость. Едва, Петрович не выдержал этих криков и закрыл кран.
онлайн гей трах
голые сиски
частное порно онлаин
May 30, 2009 at 3:47 am. Permalink.