A Love- driven Ministry (Further Thought)

Good morning, everyone.

Let me tell you about David.
He is the church member every congregation appreciates. He is zealous. He knows his Bible, gives Bible studies, distributes literature, and can explain the Sabbath, prophecy, the sanctuary, and the signs of the times.
David is serious about winning souls.

One afternoon, he sits with someone who has left the church.
“I haven't stopped believing in Jesus,” the man says. “I just became exhausted. Everything seemed to be about whether I was doing enough. I felt constantly judged.”

David hears him—but doesn't really listen.
He reaches for his Bible.
He explains the truth. The remnant. Compromise. Deception. The last days. Text after text follows.

The man's eyes fill with tears.
David thinks, The Spirit is convicting him.
The man becomes defensive.
He's resisting the truth.

Eventually, the man becomes quiet.
David leaves feeling he has done his duty.

"But suppose heaven saw something David didn't:
He was so determined to make the man see Jesus that he never stopped to see the man.

That is where this lesson becomes uncomfortable.
Paul also confronted sin. He corrected error. He wrote what became known as the “severe letter.”

But listen to his heart:
“ Out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote to you, with many tears.”
—2 Corinthians 2:4

Paul didn't simply tell them the truth. He carried their pain while telling it.
His correction hurt because he loved the people he was correcting. And when they responded, he didn't celebrate because he had won an argument.
He rejoiced because he had won them back.

Perhaps that's where we need to pause.

• We can become so focused on winning souls that we forget to love souls.
• So determined to defend Jesus that we forget to resemble Jesus.
• We can call harshness “boldness,” impatience “righteousness,” and our need to be right “zeal for truth.”

And do it all in Jesus' name .

Paul calls us the “fragrance of Christ.”
Fragrance doesn't have to announce itself. People simply experience it.

So the question isn't merely:
“Did I tell them the truth?”
It is:
“What did they experience while I was telling them the truth?”

• Christ—or my certainty?
• Grace—or superiority?
• Conviction—or condemnation?
• A Savior—or someone determined to prove he was right?

Here is the question that may stop us:
When I say, “I'm trying to save you,” am I actually trying to save you—or am I trying to prove that I am right about you?

And who knows, perhaps the soul behind the soul-winner needs saving too:

• From pride.
• From certainty without humility.
• From the pleasure of correcting others.
• From confusing religious intensity with Christlikeness.

Because you can spend years telling people about Jesus and slowly become unlike Him.

• To defend grace and withhold it.
• To preach forgiveness and keep records.
• To know the truth about Christ without allowing Christ to become the truth about us.

Maybe the danger of ministry is not that we do too little for Jesus, but that we can do so much for Him that people leave impressed by our ministry—and still untouched by His love.

So before I ask, “Am I winning souls?”
Perhaps I should ask:
“When people walk away from me, what fragrance remains—my correctness, or Christ?”

Because the greatest triumph may not be that I won the argument.
It may be that, in the hardest conversation, Christ was recognizable in me.

Guidance.