“Evangelize.” It even sounds like a dirty word, doesn’t it? An act of pushing one’s religion on another. . . a prideful way to tell someone they’ve got it totally wrong. That their worldview is wrong. That their beliefs are wrong. That they’ve got everything wrong, and I’ve got it right.
Yet another routine—our alarms go off, and in our drowsy states, we set off on our weekly journey to church with our half-eaten breakfast and coffee in our travel mugs, slipping into the pews of the church as we walk past the friendly ushers and the lights dim.
A few Sundays ago, an acquaintance of mine from church pulled me aside before the morning service to talk to me about a weakness in my character. She thought that l was too occupied with accommodating other’s needs in church, that I neglected my own needs.
The songs at church this Sunday were alright. Only one minor theological blunder that I counted. The person on stage who read today’s passage managed to pronounce all the words correctly.
A couple years ago, a colleague of mine invited my friend and I to visit an African church. l settled in my seat at the beginning of the service, expecting a heartfelt but rather demure time of praise and worship, just like the kind of church services I grew up with in Australia.