“Okay. We’re ready.”
The small team sits on an assortment of couches and chairs in the leader’s living room. Some sip the hot tea that still has the exciting flavors of new attached to it — new language, new culture, new town, new experiences. From the open window, they hear the not-yet-familiar blend of car horns, vendors’ voices, and the bleat of passing sheep. Years of preparation culminate in this moment. Having left so much behind, the eager band of missionaries looks expectantly to their young, bright-eyed leader.
What strategy, which methodology, would be the means of winning the people of this town to Christ? “What’s the plan?”
Strategies for Success
This team is a fiction, but for many, the moment is not. Missionaries go to their fields of service equipped with research about how to reach a particular social group or how to maximize their efforts. Missions literature boasts of successful new methods, telling stories of the hundreds or thousands now coming to Christ and how to implement the strategy among different peoples. We long for (good) results and are prone to succumb to mechanistic ways of thinking — If only we implement A and B, then the strategy will lead to C.
In and of themselves, particular methods and strategies aren’t bad. They are often useful and necessary tools to help us faithfully pursue the work of proclaiming the gospel in new places. Paul himself had a method, typically beginning his evangelistic work by proclaiming the gospel in a local synagogue (Acts 17:2). Strategies can, however, pose a danger. We can be tempted to believe that the success of our work depends on the strategies and methods we employ. If one doesn’t work, either we implemented it poorly or we need a new method (or perhaps we’re bad missionaries).
Scripture presents another story. Listening to God’s word chastens triumphalist or mechanistic thinking, reminding us that, in the work of missions (or parenting or pastoring, for that matter), the success of our labors depends not on our carefully honed methods but on the authority of him who calls.
Call That Commands
The Gospel of Mark opens with action. Affirmed by the Father as the Son of God at his baptism, Jesus is driven by the Spirit into the wilderness to face temptation. Then he comes into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel and calling people to repent. Some he calls to be his disciples. He does so not by cajoling or convincing but by giving a terse command: “Follow me.” The response matches his brevity. No discussion, questions, or hesitation. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him” (Mark 1:17–18). The simplicity is stunning. When Jesus calls, those called follow.
We want to ask questions. Is this an instance of Mark glossing over details for the sake of narrative style? Couldn’t there have been some deliberation on the part of the disciples before they dropped their nets or left their father with the servants?
The account is deliberate. The pace is a function not of Mark’s style but of Christ’s supremacy. Jesus comes into Galilee with authority. He is the eternal Son. In his call, we hear the very voice of God uttering a creative word. “Follow me” is not an invitation; it is divine fiat. “In this call,” writes John Webster,
there does not take place a meeting between equal partners. The call of Jesus does not look to a future decision on the part of the disciple, by virtue of which it might become effective. Rather, the call sets before its hearer a decision which has already been made. It places the one called under a conclusion. (“Discipleship and Calling,” 143)
His authority is unquestionable; their obedience immediate.
Under Authority
What does this authority mean for those sent to proclaim the gospel? Missionaries are not Jesus. They do not proclaim and call as those who have authority in themselves. They do proclaim, they do call, but they do it as those who are, like the centurion, under authority.
The effectiveness of their ministry does not depend on the latest strategy and how well they can implement it, nor does it depend on the winsomeness of their speech or the depth of their sociological research. The effectiveness of the gospel call depends on the authoritative call of God. “We know, brothers loved by God,” writes Paul, “that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction” (1 Thessalonians 1:4–5).
Knowing that the authoritative call is from God does not mean that strategies and methods go out the window. But it does require that they be held loosely and that confidence in missionary work rests in the authority of him who calls. What characterizes the labors of those who rest in God’s authority? Missionaries trusting in their Master, not their method, proclaim the gospel with patience and in prayer.
WITH PATIENCE
When Paul arrived in Corinth, he pursued his typical strategy of teaching in the local synagogue on Sabbath days, seeking to persuade the people that Jesus is the Christ. Many, though not all, rejected his message. But the risen Lord encouraged Paul, saying to him in a vision, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent . . . for I have many in this city who are my people.” So, Paul labored there for eighteen months, “teaching the word of God among them” (Acts 18:9–11). He didn’t leave when results were not immediate. He didn’t decide on a new strategy to gain a hearing for the gospel. Rejected in the synagogue, he simply went next door and kept on teaching that Jesus is the Christ. And the risen Christ reminded Paul that those who belonged to God would hear the call.
Missionary labor is often slow and painful. Sometimes “movements” do take off, and many people come to Christ in a short time. Regardless, the power does not rest in a method or strategy but in the call of Jesus. When the going is slow, when the soil is hard, don’t look first for a new method to advance the gospel. Rest patiently in the power of Christ.
IN PRAYER
Prayer is the act of disciples who recognize they depend in all things on their Lord. In prayer, those sent to proclaim the gospel in new places confess their utter inability to give life to the dead. As Paul says, “Who is sufficient for these things?” Who can bring the called to life? On whose power rests the effectiveness of our gospel? Paul answers his own question: “In the sight of God we speak in Christ” (2 Corinthians 2:16–17).
Recognizing insufficiency, we pray. Then, under God’s authority and in his power, we speak. Our Lord knows those who are his. He will call them through the faithful labor of his sent ones as they declare the gospel of God. In it all, the power belongs to him, not to us.
Most Effective Strategy
The young team is not prepared for their leader’s simple answer. “We pray. Let’s start with Youssef.” And for the next hour and a half, they pray specifically for those they know — the clerk at the local grocery store, a language partner, the lady who helps to clean a house, the beggar who sits in the same spot every day.
Jesus will move heaven and earth to save those on whom he set his love before the foundation of the world. No amount of human strategy or ingenuity can twist the arm of his sovereign strength. His work moves forward by the patient, prayer-saturated proclamation of a simple and profound message: Jesus, who died and rose for sinners, is the Savior of the world.
Desiring God