When you can only say one thing...

Posted by Ricky Alcantar

I knew I could probably only say one thing, and it had to count.

The girl was from my humanities class and we were getting ready for the final. This was one of those desperate last ditch study sessions that you leave more confused than you were to begin with. Our professor was brilliant, but vehemently against Christians. Not Jesus, Christians.

This man had a serious problem with people that claimed to follow Christ but did things that contradicted Christ’s teaching. The sad thing was that at least part of the time he was right. On one particular day while we were studying the book of Revelation he spent a good ten minutes yelling at white middle class republican Ted Haggard televangelist lovers.

So that’s why the girl asked. She knew I was a Christian and she wondered what I thought of our professor’s vitriolic speeches.

I sat there and wondered what I should say. Should I argue with the class interpretation of the Bible? Should I start with apologetics? Tell her that not all Christians were what our professor made them out to be? And then how should I say it? Was I supposed to sound intelligent? Or accessible? Or relevant?

At least I can be glad that my problem isn’t a new problem, it’s the same problem the Apostle Paul had when he preached the gospel. In 1 Corinthians 2 he reminds the Corinthian church of the message he came proclaiming to them, and how he proclaimed it.

Paul writes, “And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.” (1 Cor 2:1-5 ESV)

I remember being shocked by Paul saying that he decided know and preach only one thing. In moments like this, when an unbelieving friend is staring across the table at me, there are lots of messages I want to convey. And my tendency is to want to change what I say so I don’t offend or so I’ll sound impressive.

But scripture calls us to keep one message at the forefront of what we live, believe, and proclaim: the gospel—the message that Christ came to die to save sinners. It’s the one thing we should say when we can only say one thing.

But as I sat across my study partner, I said something very different. I immediately began to argue with small points of what our professor said in class. I was trying to flex my intellectual muscles. I wanted to let this girl know that I was just as smart as our professor.

I wasn’t even halfway through my monologue when I knew I blew it. I was arguing with her about different types of apocalyptic literature when I should have been sharing the gospel. I was acting just like the church in Corinth.

The Corinthians liked people that looked and sounded good. They liked skilled debaters and orators. And then Paul came “…in weakness and in fear and much trembling…” Paul didn’t draw attention to his abilities, he drew attention away from his abilities. He didn’t want people to leave hearing him proclaim the gospel and think “what a speaker,” he wanted them to leave thinking “what a savior.”

The conversation with my classmate moved on to other things and I was sure I’d lost my opportunity. I felt like kicking myself for not giving the girl the one message she needed most. But God was kind; I got another chance. The girl asked me if I was offended by what the professor said about Christians.

I took a deep breath.

“The example of a lot of those Christians he talked about really grieves me. Really, our professor is so right in pointing out that the hypocrisy of some of those people.

“But here’s the reality: I know that I’m really no better than a lot of those people he talked about.”

Her eyebrows went up and she leaned forward.

“Because really, apart from God’s help I would be doing the same thing. That’s why I need a savior. That’s why we all need a savior. Because we all sin—we all break God’s laws—and on our own we can’t be good enough. So God would have to punish us.

“And that’s why I’m a Christian. Because Jesus came to pay the punishment for my sins and that message has changed my life…”

I’m sure what I said didn’t sound that good but I think I got the main thing across. And I left praying that the girl left with one thing in the front of her mind.

“I decided to know nothing among you but Jesus Christ and him crucified.”