Forget the Narration

Jonnel and I were guests at the Easter musical of a thriving, well-known church in another city last week-end. The actors, vocalists, and orchestra were absolutely superb. The story of Christ's crucifixion and resurrection were so powerfully portrayed that I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I watched. I was absolutely transfixed by the power of the events being depicted on the stage.

Then there was the narrator. She was so distracting that it was almost irritating! And it wasn't her fault. She was dressed in black, and she always remained on the outer edges of the action. She had a nice voice and she read her lines with authority. But every time she appeared, I found myself thinking, "Please, go away."

Nevertheless, the musical drama was a jolting, convicting experience. Like most people who were there, I went away grateful, awe struck, and motivated to be more surrendered to the Captain of our Salvation.

It was only after returning home to Northern Virginia, that I asked myself why I was so bothered by the narration. The answer came almost instantly: words can't really capture the impact of that event! Granted, when words are all you have, one has to make do. We can elaborate on the brutality of the crucifixion. Or we can give the mathematical odds against the probability of resurrection. And all those things are adequate when nothing else is available. But when you sense the actual power of the cross and the empty tomb portrayed in live action just a few feet away, words are just a pale shadow- or a cheap substitute.

It occurs to me that when we think about sharing the Gospel, we think almost entirely in terms of words: repentance, faith, confession, surrender. And when words are all you have, one has to make do. But how much more affecting is a witness when it comes in power and spirit, rather than words. It's easy for people to discount theological words, but it's more difficult to dispense with powerful deeds.

I'll confess that I've become quite allergic to the expression, "I witness with my life." The people who use that phrase quite often mean that they don't want to offend lost people, so they hope it's obvious that faith has made them moral people who go to church. Brother, if that's all you've got to show for your faith, you will definitely need some narration to get your point across. By contrast, in a life that embodies the cross and the empty tomb, there is an extra dimension. There is the impact of seeing sacrificial love offered up in diverse circumstances by another human being who obviously responds to life quite differently than you do. There is genuine sacrifice and love that shouts, "There is even more here than meets the eye!" When evangelism becomes that vivid and that moving, words are almost a distraction.

The watching world is not impressed by my avoidance of stimulants or my frequency in worship. Heavenly Father, give me a life that nakedly displays the Lordship of Jesus Christ.