Do the work of an Evangelist!
I’m not your television evangelist. I’m not coming through your idiot box, could be more crooked than L.A. cops, that is for sure. I am trying to come up fresh upon this screen, no Armani suits, only one gold ring; my marriage ring. These last sentences come from one of Odd Thomas’ songs entitled Television Evangelist. The reason for this posting is to remember a trip I took to Russia as a short-term missionary. Since the day God revealed Himself to me, He instilled a passion within to declare (I had previously written “share” yikes!) His glorious gospel. Growing up in the city of Inglewood, in Southern California, I saw myself as a Mexican kid who would never amount to anything. More than likely, because we were a lower middle income family, I’d never be able to travel and get to see other parts of the world. In retrospect, it is great to know God is Sovereign and will have His way in our lives.
So why the picture of Russia? This was the first place God ordained for me to see outside of North America. I went with a group from Calvary Chapel of South Bay. There is not a more wonderful experience than declaring the mysteries of Christ to human beings who need to hear that Christ has come into the world, shed His blood for the sins of humanity, and calls all men everywhere to repent. In ten days, I met many wonderful people.
I recall one interesting situation. I was doing puppets for the kids. After the show, a young Russian walked up to me and through a translater spoke to me through the character of the puppet. I followed along as the interpreter translated. The Russian became upset, and told the translator to tell me to put the puppet down, and speak to him like a man. I thought, “who does this fool think he is?” What happened next was humbling. He wanted to talk about the God I was telling the children about. He revealed he was diagnosed with AIDS as a result of drugs, and had short to live. Through the translator, I was able to declare the gospel of Messiah to Him. As I told Him of the grace of God, there was a look of hope in his eyes. Later on that night he had returned to a service we had for a small town called Raizon, about 200 miles South of Moscow. I remember explaining to him that it was not chance that had brought us together but divine Providence. The “Mexican” I thought would never leave Inglewood, was saved by grace alone and was carried along to the other side of the world to meet this man and tell him about the hope in Jesus! That night I remember him finding me after the service. When he saw me he ran up to me and embraced me, thanking me for having told him about Christ. (Got to say, I was scared to get close to him since he had AIDS, and was a spitter when he talked.) To this day I have a picture we took together but don’t know if he passed away or still lives.
It is moments like these that Christ uses to reignite a deep passion for telling others about the great blessed hope we have in Him! This story is just one of many that are imbedded deep within. They are memories made possible only by a true and living God, who is actively saving His people from their sins! Many we never cease to do the work of an evangelist! 2 Timothy 4:5
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