Would you withhold life-saving information?

Penn Jillette is a well-known American magician, who’s almost as well-known for being a prominent and vocal atheist.

When I came across a clip of him on social media reacting to an encounter with a fan after one of his shows, I was utterly amazed and uncomfortably provoked.

The fan had waited for Jillette and handed him a Bible, which had been surprisingly well received. Penn described why he was okay with someone "proselytising" (evangelising / sharing the gospel): "I’ve always said, I don’t respect people who don’t proselytise… If you believe there is a heaven and hell, and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life…and you think it’s not really worth telling them this because it would make it socially awkward…How much do you have to hate someone to believe everlasting life is possible and not tell them?"

He gave an example: "If I believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a truck was coming at you, and you didn’t believe it – that this truck was bearing down on you, there’s a certain point that I tackle you, and this is more important than that." He finished by saying: "This guy…cared enough about me to proselytise..."

I watched this clip years ago. It still feels as relevant and hard-hitting a provocation today as it did then. It often comes to mind when I’m hesitating to share my faith – Penn Jillette’s words give me a gentle kick up the behind.

The urgency of the gospel

I think one of the challenges of living in the West is that we’re often too comfortable in our "safe" lives to remember how urgent the gospel is – how desperately people need to hear the good news of Jesus.

I need help remembering the importance of the words I can choose to offer up…or not. I don’t want to walk away having missed the chance to point out a lifesaving piece of information… like holding a lifesaving flotation device I was too hesitant to throw into the river to save the drowning person.

Framing it this way in my mind helps me build up the courage to open my mouth and take the "risk" of sharing my faith.

Recently, our lovely friend shared that her mum had been diagnosed with incurable cancer, and she was struggling to process the news. My first thoughts, beyond the pure heartbreak of her situation, were "I should point her to Jesus – the only real hope in this situation" …followed almost immediately by "but she’ll think I’m some weird Bible basher and it might make things awkward!".

So, what came out of my mouth was simply "I’m so sorry. I’ll pray for her, and for you." Which isn’t bad, of course…but I knew I could offer more.

In the back of my mind, came Penn Jillette’s analogy. This is a life-or-death matter. Surely, I should be screaming: get out of the road, a truck is coming! It was enough to prompt me to say something much more specific.

I asked her what she believes happens to someone when they die. This led to a longer conversation where I was able to share something of the eternal hope we have in Jesus. I’ve no idea if it’s made any difference to what she thinks, or her mum. But I do know that she felt cared for in that conversation, and that a seed of hope was sown.

God can do abundantly more than we ask or expect with that.

A while back, I’d been walking my dog along the beach when my attention was drawn to a young woman sitting near the water’s edge. I could sense her distress – despite not being able to see her face from that distance. I felt the Holy Spirit nudge me to go offer to pray, yet my instinctive response was "No way! I’m not offering to pray for a total stranger! She’ll think I’m crazy!"

I tried to walk away, but God wasn’t giving up so easily. Eventually, I said, "Alright, but I need you to open up the conversation because I’ve no idea how to start. Holy Spirit, please help me!"

As I got closer, my dog ran ahead, and, most out of character, approached the woman, standing on his back legs to reach up and greet her. She was so taken aback it prompted her to start a conversation with me.

I asked if she was okay, as she seemed sad. To my surprise, she opened up, explaining a tricky situation that had left her feeling lost and alone. In response, I was able to tell her that I’d come over because I’d felt God prompt me to – that He’d shown me her sadness and wanted me to pray with her.

The young woman’s response was immediate: "Yes, please pray for me now." And so I found myself, thoroughly out of my comfort zone, praying for a stranger in public, that she might know how much God cares for her.

I’ve no idea what happened next; I’ve never seen her again. I don’t even know her name. But she left knowing that she was seen and known by God.

Life-saving information

I wouldn’t class myself as an evangelist. No matter how many times these little moments occur, I still feel the same familiar discomfort and awkwardness about sharing my faith. But I know that I hold life-saving information in my heart about the only One who can save. I don’t want to keep that to myself when someone is struggling to keep their head above water.

And when I anticipate all the ways these conversations could go wrong – leaving me with proverbial egg on my face – it’s mostly just fear talking.

As one of my favourite preachers on evangelism, Lex Loizides, once said: "Be willing to get egg on your face for Jesus." Challenge accepted!

PfE women is an everyday evangelism series written by women in Passion for Evangelism - an organisation committed to empowering, equipping, and encouraging women to share the good news of Jesus.