Emily Howard, Writer

I have a question for you. If someone asked you to join them in a day of street ministry (literally walking up to strangers on the street and speaking with them and praying with them), what would your initial reaction be? Excitement? Or bone-chilling dread? Be honest, now. We’re all friends here.

My reaction was the latter. Obviously.

I recently returned from Foundations of Evangelism, a week-long intensive class at United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. The classwork and lectures were all very informative and interesting, but the two things that stuck out in my memory from that week were 1-our personal testimony assignment, where everyone had to stand in front of the class and speak about when they first met Jesus, and 2-the day we, as part of the class, did street ministry with a group called Spirit and Truth.

Both of these assignments brought most of us out of our comfort zones. And they were SO impactful. The one I want to share about today is the street ministry.

When Matt Reynolds of Spirit and Truth stood in front of the class and explained what we were going to do, people’s reactions ranged from excitement to extreme trepidation. You could probably draw this line down the middle of the extroverts and introverts in the class, and I am a proud member of the introvert camp. But here’s the thing—it was part of the class. It was for a grade; I couldn’t just refuse. So off we went.

We had lots of conversations in this class about how the word “evangelism” has gotten a bad rap. We have all seen evangelism done badly. BUT—as we came to realize while listening to everyone’s testimony on how they truly met Jesus—everyone has, at least once, been on the receiving end of evangelism done right.

One of the main things Matt and the other leaders told us before we went out was: “don’t be weird.” We were instructed to merely talk to people, listen to their stories, offer to pray with them. Spirit and Truth really does have a great ministry model that is working in real life situations, so I definitely recommend you check them out. They train churches on how to go out and minister to people naturally and effectively.

I could spend pages and pages telling you about that afternoon and how it impacted us and those we witnessed to. But in the interest of keeping my word count low and your attention high, I will share just a few of the things people said to us.

(first lady we approached, before we even said a word): Are you here to pray for me? We just lost our homes in the tornado; we really need prayer.

(after asking a woman about her car repair outside an oil change): Yeah, our air conditioner went out. My son has epilepsy and can’t be in the heat. I’m not sure what we’re going to do.

(after helping a shopper pick up a heavy watermelon in a grocery store): Yes, please pray for my lawsuit with the city. My son was hit and killed by a drunk driver and they are trying to let him get away with it.

People’s stories are real and deep and impactful and important and RIGHT THERE on the surface if we just make ourselves open and available to ask.

Even though I was dreading the awkwardness of not knowing what to say, somehow the words just came. We prayed each time we went out for the Holy Spirit to speak through us and the Spirit did. It was remarkable. As an introvert I hate small talk, but in every encounter I was able to say just the right comment about the hot weather, about car repair, or about a heavy watermelon that effortlessly broke the ice.

So, I came back from that experience wondering how in the world I could bring it home. How can I convince people in my church and community how important this kind of ministry is? That our Christian communities must stop expecting people to come to us; that we must go to them? With all the talk these days about what is biblical and what is not, here you go. This type of ministry, going out to where people are needing a touch of the love of Christ, is just about the most biblical thing we could ever do. And yet. There’s that reluctance. There’s that fear and unwillingness to put ourselves out there and risk awkwardness and embarrassment and discomfort. I am the first to admit: I don’t want to do it. I wouldn’t have done it that day if it weren’t for a grade.

Two years into seminary, and I am still working out what my ministry is going to look like. What I know so far is that a big part of it involves sharing personal stories, breaking down walls, and helping people break out of that blasted comfort zone. Because I have experienced over and over the amazing things that God does when we make ourselves vulnerable.