Steve's Letter: What did I do? I repented publicly!

I had an interesting experience in late August. (I'm writing this in early September.)

Over the weekend, we went to Christ Community Church in Nashville to help celebrate the 20th ministry anniversary of Peculiar People--Charlie and Ruth Jones, the wonderful dramatists who often minister with Key Life. And then I flew from Nashville to Philadelphia to teach a course, Communicating the Gospel to Postmoderns, at Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia.

It was sunny and warm in Nashville; cold, rainy and dreary in Philadelphia.

The contrast in weather was significant, but not as significant as the other contrasts.

I expected that the time in Nashville would be fun...and it was. Buddy Greene and Michael Kelly Blanchard sang, Charlie and Ruth did incredibly moving--and sometimes funny--drama, and I spoke a couple of times. If you weren't there, you should have been. It was a time of laughter, joy and celebration...a "get down" party of Christians who have a lot of shared war stories and who understand, sing about and teach radical grace and scandalous freedom.

We laughed more than we prayed and Jesus joined us. He, I think, is as tired of "religion" as we are. So he joined the party.

Philadelphia was...uh...um...different.

Westminster Seminary has been a place of faithfulness and faith for a very long time. Theological and Biblical scholars from Westminster are teaching in every evangelical and Reformed seminary in the world. John Frame, for instance, who is on the faculty at Reformed Seminary where I teach, was a professor there for a number of years. (He is one of the finest theological minds of this generation.) When our faculty discussed his coming, every faculty member at RTS except two (I was one of the two) had sat at the feet of Dr. Frame at Westminster Seminary.

I served on Westminster's board for awhile, but that was an anomaly. They are really, really academic and sort of stiff. Many of their faculty and three of their former presidents are friends; but, frankly, it was a surprise to me that they wanted me to come and teach.

I'm way out of the box for Westminster...way out. My doctorates are phony (I'm not even a nurse!) and, honestly, I don't feel comfortable around academics. It's not them. It's me and my insecurities, but I'm too old to spend my time pretending to be something I'm not...religious, scholarly and proper.

I figured that I would go do this once and, after I had offended everybody, I wouldn't have to go back again. The thing is, the Gospel is incredibly scandalous. It requires that communicators (if they are going to communicate the real thing) be very aware that their sin is as great or greater than the sin of those to whom they communicate and that "Jesus leaves the building" when the communicator starts playing religious games and pretends to be anything other than a needy sinner who has found mercy, grace and freedom, and knows where others can find it.

It was a large class and, at the beginning, the students (Doctor of Ministry students who are already involved in ministry) were quite wary of me. They weren't sure I was saved and, as I lectured, I think I removed all doubt...to wit, they were then sure I wasn't saved.

Then something strange happened. Jesus entered the building.

I started seeing "lights" go on all over the place. Students began asking the right questions. Then they started "telling their secrets" to one another and opening up their minds and hearts to God's incredible, unbelievable, weird and wonderful grace and mercy. There were a number of international students there and I was afraid that they wouldn't be able to cross the "cultural boundaries" and "get it." They did. Students from Korea, India and Africa got it.

I did too.

Let me tell you one incident (and there were so many others).

John and Christy Leonard are old friends. Christy was a flight attendant in Miami and a member of the church I served. In fact, she met John and they were married there. I've known them and loved them for a long time. After their marriage, John earned his doctorate and they went to France where, for a number of years, they served in an evangelistic ministry to Muslims. I had not seen them in a long time and it was good to be with them again.

They sat in on a class as I talked about control and how our desire to control can destroy the communication of the Gospel. One must learn to "go with the flow."

Whenever I teach on that subject, I have a great illustration about the time when I was a pastor and we had a guest speaker in who spoke with great spiritual power. Everybody there knew that God was doing something significant. After he had spoken, a young man got up and said, "God is here and I think that we need to go to prayer."

That's when I stood up and said to that young man, "Sit down, son. We can pray after the service in the library if anybody wants to." I had a closing prayer, a benediction and brought the service to an end. Later, I repented big time. God was about to do something wonderful (maybe even a revival) and I had stifled it. Do you know why? Because you can't control that sort of thing...and I was big into control.

For years, I've thought that, if I could just remember who that young man was, I would ask him to forgive me. But, for the life of me, I couldn't remember who he was and, over all these years, I didn't even remember what he looked like.

Just as I was getting ready to tell that story in class, I had the thought--I think it was the Holy Spirit--that John Leonard was that young man.

Inside I said, Lord, you wouldn't do that to me, would you? If you loved me, you wouldn't.

I then said to John, "I hope this isn't true, but I just had a thought that the story I'm about to tell is about you. I hope not, but it could be."

"Steve," John said, laughing, "I hope not too. You've been teaching us that a preacher shouldn't use stories about people without permission."

"Well," I said, "if it is you, it will be okay. Trust me. You'll come out smelling like a rose and I'm going to look really bad."

So I started the story and, in the middle of it, Christy stopped me and said, "Yes, that was John! I remember that evening and, when John stood up, that's when I decided I would marry him. I had been praying for a man of prayer...and he demonstrated it that evening. And, just so you know," she added with humor, "I was quite upset and angry with you."

What did I do? Are you crazy? I repented publicly. I said to John, "John, I'm so very sorry. I've been looking for you for twenty-five years. Will you forgive me?"

What could he do? Of course he forgave me!

The students started laughing and, even more surprising, Philadelphia/Westminster started feeling a lot more like Nashville. In both places, Jesus joined in the laughter.

Best lecture I ever gave too!

Steve, why are you telling me this?

I thought you would never ask. In 1 Corinthians 9, Paul talks about his freedom from people, but how he had decided, nevertheless, to proclaim the Gospel to everybody without exception...Jews, Gentiles, informed and committed religious people, people who couldn't care less about religion, and anybody else who would listen. He then said, "I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings" (v. 23).

Do you have people who'll think you're some kind of religious nut if you tell them about God's radical grace? Are there people you've decided just aren't open to the Gospel? Do you have friends who aren't "religious" and never will be who you're afraid to tell of God's scandalous grace and mercy? Are there places you won't go, things you won't say and words you won't use because "they" would never understand and reject you?

Trust the old, cynical preacher here. Go tell them!

If you're willing to confess your sins, to be honest and real, to be embarrassed, and then to let the "devil take the hindmost"...

...they'll listen. They really will.

He asked me to tell you.

In His Grip,