Seminary Admissions

Quiet heroism leaves a legacy

Posted on May 20, 2013 by David Clark

Who is your hero?

Heroes respond to tragic events with courage under fire. We watched heroes in action as the Boston Marathon bombing story unfolded.

We also watched the story of a hero on January 15, 2009. US Airways Flight 1549 took off from LaGuardia at 9:15 that morning. Suddenly, 90 seconds into the flight, the A320 hit a huge flock of 15 pound geese. The cockpit recorder captured audible thuds as geese hit the plane. The geese killed both jet engines. But they did not kill the 155 people sitting on that plane. They lived because a quiet hero, Captain Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger, calmly landed his 150,000 pound jet in the Hudson River.

I’m not easily impressed, but this impressed me.

Captain Sullenberger wasn’t born knowing how to land an A320 in a river. It took time and discipline to develop the ability to do exactly the right thing in the moment of extreme pressure. Sullenberger prepared for a life-changing moment of virtuous heroism by stitching together a life-time of small virtuous actions. Our pastor recently quoted Sullenberger’s own explanation:

“One way of looking at this might be that for 42 years, I’ve been making small, regular deposits in this bank of experience: education and training. And on January 15, the balance was sufficient so that I could make a very large withdrawal.”

Here’s the other thing that impresses me.

Many people I know quietly make small, regular deposits in the bank of experience. But their heroism remains hidden because they never face the kind of crisis Sullenberger encountered. CNN’s cameras never catch them making a withdrawal. They never make the evening news. But they are heroes nonetheless.

I get to work with a lot of heroes. For example, Dr. Denise Kjesbo, who leads the Children and Family Ministry M.A. program at Bethel Seminary. She also leads Bethel’s Cory Center for Children’s Ministry. And her influence is quietly being felt around the world.

There are many heroes we never hear about.

Two years ago, Dr. Kjesbo met with a Bethel graduate named Jan Ryder. Jan proposed to offer a Diploma in Children’s and Family Ministry at Carlile College in Nairobi, Kenya. The curriculum is patterned after Bethel’s Children and Family Ministry curriculum. Jan persisted in her quest to launch this program, and the first students arrived on campus last June.

This year the Cory Center team decided to offer scholarship funds through one of MACFM graduates, Jan Ryder. Gift Mwanza received the $1000 scholarship. Gift is a Children’s Ministry Leader from Zambia, and the scholarship will pay for two years of tuition at Carlile. When Gift finishes, she will pass on her knowledge to others. As the leader of Children’s Ministry in the Anglican Church for a whole region of Africa, she will educate children’s workers who serve little ones in Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia, and Malawi.

Activity of this sort is gathering pace around the world. AnneMarie Finsaas, Associate Director of Global Initiatives for the Cory Center, travelled to join the Global Children’s Forum, a gathering held in Nairobi last month. The Forum is developing a Global Certificate in Children’s Ministry to educate hundreds more Gift Mwansas around the world. Bethel Seminary and The Cory Center will serve as the endorsing western seminary of the Global Certificate.

Quiet heroism leaves a legacy.

So Dr. Kjesbo launched a children’s ministry program at Bethel. Dr. Kjesbo’s student, Jan Ryder, started a children’s ministry program at Carlile. Jan Ryder’s student, Gift Mwansa, will start a children’s ministry program for hundreds of children’s workers in her sphere of influence. And Gift Mwansa’s students, children’s workers in a whole region of Africa, will offer love and care, wisdom and truth, to multiple thousands of children in the name of Christ.

Unlike Captain Sullenberger’s exploits, none of this will make a CNN broadcast. Still, these teachers are heroes in my book.

Reflections on Grief

Posted on May 20, 2013 by Melissa McCormick

A dozen classmates and myself recently attended a grief and trauma seminar. Though not required by any class assignment, we decided to take advantage of an opportunity to learn more about how to counsel and pastor people who have experienced trauma or are in the midst of a season of change and grief. In our training we learned that counseling people in grief is more than therapy, but helping people to define their “new normal” after a life altering change.

Though I learned many tangible things I can apply to future therapy and current ministry, I also learned something that affected me personally. The insightful speaker at this seminar challenged the participants in the seminar to write a personal loss history to track our timeline of grief. This timeline included more than just the death of loved ones, but also major changes in our lives such as divorces, moves, and changes in relationships. When the definition of grief and loss was expanded to include major losses, many people were surprised at the amount of loss they had in their lifetime.

This last week, a few weeks after I attended this grief seminar, I had to say goodbye to a few members of my ministry team. I have learned that in ministry saying goodbye is a common occurrence. When we surround ourselves with people who are obedient to the Lord, they are often called to new ministries, new cities, and new roles. Although I expected to be saddened by the most recent batch of goodbyes, I realized in the midst of my tears that I was actually grieving more than just the friendships but also the ending of this season of ministry.

Life is full of changes and we can hold on to the belief that God works all things out for the good of those who love him. But in the midst of these changes our world doesn’t give us much room to grieve. Culture tells us to suck it up, to avoid showing any weakness. But as this seminar lecturer explained “Tears are a gift from God to help us express the extent of our loss.”

We know from scripture that Christians are not excused from grief. However, just as Jesus explained to his disciples before he left, there will be a day where our grief will turn to joy.

Re-framing the conversation

Posted on May 8, 2013 by Stacey Hammons

18 men and 5 women spent the last three days as students in an intensive class at Bethel Seminary. As our instructor was introducing the final topic, I could feel my tension rising as I was steeling myself for what was coming. “The Church and Sexism” was the title of the Power Point slide. As the professor was speaking, I did everything I could to focus on what she was saying, all the while playing the refrain, “Don’t cry, don’t speak, don’t think about it.” in my head.

But as our professor continued, I realized this wasn’t going to be the typical “role of women in ministry” type of debate. See, there are basically two positions within the evangelical church (women cannot lead and/or teach in a way that puts them in authority over a man or women are free to lead in any way God calls them) and once a person has made up his or her mind, they usually don’t cross over to the other side. Christians should absolutely be having this conversation with the Scriptures and with each other, but that was not the point of today.

Today our teacher framed it a little differently. No matter what theological view one comes to on the gender issue, the reality is that there are women who have experienced real hurt from sexism within the church. A Christian worldview tells us that women and men were created in the image of God and that we as human beings have value. The problem is that women don’t always feel the same value assigned to men. Women have felt like they have no voice when it comes to the church, not heard, not important.

The professor wants us to now talk about it. A few of the men began talking. Then something interesting happened. One of the guys said, “I’d like to know what the women think.” Then, and only then, did the women speak up. For some reason we needed to be asked, needed permission to say something about the very thing we understand the most. Why did we need that? Because we have a fear of how we will be perceived when we talk about this issue. We don’t want to be labeled “that woman” who is trying to make a name for herself or advance her cause or who has a chip on her shoulder. Because we in fact are not that; we simply want to follow the call God has on our lives serving alongside our brothers and sisters in Christ, doing whatever part we have been given to do to in the kingdom of God. Seminary is too hard to be here for any other reason.

Overall, it was a good conversation. As one guy said, “I wish we could have gotten further along,” but ultimately we weren’t going to resolve this issue in one afternoon anyway. The thing is, by giving it a new frame of reference, maybe we at least took a step in the right direction.

My Jerusalem

Posted on May 7, 2013 by Melissa McCormick

A passage I have been focusing on during this immediate time in my life is Acts 1:8. In the beginning of Acts, we learn that we will receive the power of the Holy Spirit in order to witness to near and far away lands. In this verse the disciples are told to witness to Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

Sometimes when people think of missions, they imagine a far away and tropical land where no one has heard the gospel of Jesus. This misunderstanding of mission is challenged by the message Jesus gives to his disciples before he ascends to heaven. Jesus does not only name “the ends of the earth” as the goal of the disciple’s ministry.

Another city named is Samaria. In the culture of Jesus’s time, Samaritans were considered unclean, making this call to ministry difficult for the disciples to swallow. God calls us to serve those who we have a hard time loving. Personally, I can think of people who would be particularly difficult for me to serve. Though these people live just down the road, it is hard to imagine what we would have in common. BUT, Jesus doesn’t excuse his disciples from serving those who make them uncomfortable.

In Acts 1:8 Jesus first states that the disciples will be witnesses in Jerusalem. Jerusalem was in the immediate vicinity for these disciples, and would be one of the more challenging places to witness because these people were aware of the events of Jesus’s death and were aware of the imperfections of the apostles. It is possible the disciples were hoping to get out of town, away from family and friends, and search for a new community…BUT Jesus does not excuse them from ministering to those around them.

It is very easy for me to identify my Jerusalem. The thought of ministering there can make me want to disappear to the ends of earth. But as I have wrestled with the idea of answering God’s call on this season of my life, I have learned to accept that I have an opportunity to serve my Jerusalem in a way those from the outside cannot. Serving our own Jerusalem allows for a unique type of incarnational ministry.

With the power of the Holy Spirit we are called to witness to those in far away lands, those we find challenging, and those closest to our inner circle. We are to hear and accept the call to GO with the power of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes that call to “GO” can look like staying and serving in Jerusalem.

Oh My God

Posted on May 7, 2013 by Andrew Zhao

I was talking with a friend and colleague of mine, Mr. Stephen Foust, while working on a project for our Senior Integrative Seminar. I’ve always enjoyed collaborative assignments because it’s a great medium for learning about different perspectives through conversations and experience. Stephen grew up in Arkansas and was raised in the South’s conservative, Bible-beltin’ culture. I grew up in the suburbs of the Midwest in a non-Christian family. While we’ve both journeyed through seminary differently, we found that we resonated strongly with one core characteristic for Christians- the notion of being humble. Especially as current and future leaders of the church who have made studying theology and ministering to others our vocation, we believe it’s incredibly important and necessary to recheck ourselves with humility no matter how smart/capable/skilled/wise we get.
To ignore this discipline would be to risk pride, narcissism, and the wrongful elevation of ourselves. Perhaps the greatest danger is to get to the point where we are so sure of ourselves, our theology, and what we’re doing in life that we equate it directly with God, Himself. This perspective is a scary one especially to confront in another person. Then Stephen shared a reflection on this idea that I thought was incredibly profound- he said that he thought in a lot of ways, this alignment of ourselves with God (saying that we know God’s will, that we have exclusive understanding of God’s Word, act as if our words are congruent with God’s, etc.) is a direct violation of “Thou shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold guiltless anyone who takes his name in vain” (Exodus 20:7).
Traditionally, I’ve always thought that commandment meant ‘don’t use God’s name as a swear’. Basically, I shouldn’t blaspheme by using God’s name inappropriately. However, I think Stephen was really onto something. There’s more to it then that. When checking into the original Hebrew word (shav’), it loosely means ‘unreality’. We should avoid saying God’s name in a way that is lighthearted, frivolous, or insincere. Essentially, it’s treating God’s name (and culturally, a name has great significance and meaning) with the respect, honor, and reverence He deserves. We should avoid using His name or even talking about Him in a way that is careless.
So could it be that when we’re so sure of ourselves, that we might potentially be taking the Lord’s name in vain? Is not my inherent position in life one that is finite, limited, and always in process? I believe we risk undervaluing and misrepresenting the depth and unattainability of God’s character and being when we speak a little too confidently about who God is and what His will is. This is not to say anything really about God’s revelation through Scripture or the Holy Spirit, but rather to remind ourselves to not walk humbly with our God as we recognize that we are constantly learning and growing. Otherwise, we risk taking His name in vain.

so many options, so little time

Posted on May 6, 2013 by Stacey Hammons

Some babies, if you put them down with several choices of toys, will be so overwhelmed with the options they end up frustrated instead of entertained as Mom had hoped. I can so relate to that infant.

At church Sunday, I couldn’t decide where to sit. When asked to bring an appetizer to a friend’s house, I was beyond stressed over what to make. Whether it’s what to eat or what to wear to a wedding, I can become a woman obsessed with making the right choice. The toughest part of a research paper for school? For me it’s not the research or the writing, but the deciding of what to write about that most often throws me.

Very few decisions have come easily and assuredly in my life. In fact, I can name them:

Marrying Jim
Faith in Jesus as Lord of my life
Having 2 and only 2 children

That’s it – three things in all my years of life. I have thought this to be one of my biggest weaknesses – I’m just not very decisive, that has to be a weakness, right? Maybe not.

Maybe, if I just look at this “weakness” from a different perspective, I can see God wiring me this way as a gift. It is the gift of yearning for a simpler life. For example, if I can’t decide what to wear, that means I have too many options in my closet. To remedy that, relieve a lot of stress and save time, I get rid of all the excess by giving it away. Everybody wins.

Narrowing my choices does a lot more than simplify my life; it focuses and frees me. I can focus on what God wants me to do if I stress less. (Less options = less stress). At the same time, my brain is free to think about the things I really do need to decide. What are the choices in front of me that God wants me to select?

The thing I realized is that I actually do make decisions about some things. These may not come easily, and often only with much prayer, BUT they are things of which I am sure. Seminary, teaching and investing in relationships are all things I say yes to. Helping others in ways that God has wired me to help is an easy call. (Trying to do things I’m ill-equipped to do has gotten me in a lot of trouble, but I’m saying no more often – it’s better for everyone!!)

Too many options overwhelms, frustrates, and ultimately stagnates me. Paring those down gives me incredible peace and gets me moving in the right direction. So here’s what I do: avoid restaurants with 10-page menus, let my husband handle selecting seats at the movies, always order the same thing at Starbucks and ask my daughter which outfit to wear. This works great for me. What about you? Does anyone else have trouble deciding when there are too many options?

My Friend St. Francis

Posted on April 22, 2013 by Melissa McCormick

In my Christian Lives in History class, we are given the opportunity to study major figures in the history of the church. One character that has recently stood out is St. Francis of Assisi. St. Francis is one of those people whose lives you read about and compare to your own life, causing immediate feelings of conviction. In his younger years, St. Francis renounced all of his inheritances and possessions to better serve God and man, through a life imitative of Jesus and the apostles. As I type on my new Apple laptop…I cannot help but feel a little intimidated by this man.

The specific reading I did about the saint came from The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi and describes just another day in the life of St. Francis where he cures a leper and then flees town to ensure that God gets all the glory. What a saint…Literally!

I think it is so easy to place these historical figures on a distant pedestal. Placing them on a whole different level of spirituality that is so far away from us helps us not compare ourselves to their miraculous lives marked by radical obedience. Though undoubtedly gifted in extreme ways, St. Francis was still a human. So what part of his approach to ministry can I apply to my life?

An element of the story of St. Francis and the miraculous healing of the leper that I find motivating is the willingness of St. Francis to seek healing for this leper in things seen and unseen. The author of The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi explains that when St. Francis encountered this leper who had been disregarded by the rest of the community, he “began to pray and prayed most earnestly” for the healing of the leprosy AND the man’s salvation. St. Francis overcame any restrictions of fear of failure and fear of other’s opinions, and prayed earnestly for a man who earnestly needed prayer. The man repented and received Jesus, solidifying healing for both his outward disease and his inner soul.

Often as Christians it is easy to focus on the way those in our care are behaving. Does their lifestyle contain outward sinful behavior? Are they serving the Lord and aiding our pastoral agendas in the community? When we focus on the performance driven definition of spirituality often it is the inner souls of individuals that can be neglected. It is possible to follow a moral rulebook, and to serve at various posts on Sunday morning without being internally transformed and renewed by the truth of Scripture. St. Francis was not looking for the outward healing to prove his point, he stayed and prayed earnestly for the inward healing. This is the kind of minister I want to be.

Sometimes tragedy can get close

Posted on April 16, 2013 by David Clark

You never wake up thinking something bad is going to happen.

And surely we did not wake up yesterday thinking something unusual would happen in Boston. I did know the Boston Marathon was on. A good friend, Dave Ashmead, had qualified to run this year, and Ty, my son, and Renee (we call her ‘Nee’), my daughter (in-law), would be in Boston to hang out with Dave and his wife, Allie, for the big event.

I also know that about 27,000 people would run the race, because I’ve got just enough geek in me to look that kind of stuff up. Randomly, it happens I Googled this info a couple weeks ago.

But I didn’t know … what we now all know: The bombs went off. Three are dead. Scores are wounded. And the Boston Marathon will never be the same.

Sometimes tragedy can get close.

When I saw the news yesterday on my computer I thought: “Ty and Nee, Dave and Allie, are in Boston. No way they were hit by the bombs. There are tens of thousands of people there. No way.”

It turns out they were standing a block away from the explosion. (Dave is fast. He’d finished his run an hour before. By 2:50 p.m., the four friends were just walking around together.) Here’s what my son explained: “We were walking in the direction of the explosion and were stopped by a metal barricade. We then paused at the street map in the photo to figure out another route. We paused for about the same amount of time it would have taken to walk the length of the building that separated us from the explosion.”

Here’s the Google Map picture Tyler sent, showing where they were standing:

They were walking down a street. They stopped to look at a map. The bomb went off 100 yards away. If they had kept walking as they intended …

This happened to me before.

August 1, 2007, 6:05 p.m. The 35W bridge that crosses the Mississippi River in downtown Minneapolis collapsed.

My wife, Sandy, had driven across the bridge a minute before.

When I learned of the collapse, I first reacted rationally: What happened? Is Sandy OK? What was the timing? What caused this bridge to fall? On and on … details of the event. Some answerable; some not.

The next day I felt shaken. Tears came. What might have been? What if? What then …

What do we know?

I’ve taught Christian theology for over 30 years. One course I’ve taught is: “Perspectives on Evil and Suffering.” What I’ve learned is … there’s a lot I haven’t learned.

Why did a police barricade stop my family and friends a block away from the bomb? Obviously, the barricade did not stop others. Some were right on top of the bomb, and they’ve literally lost life and limb. Why? I don’t know.

I’m often reminded of what I don’t know. I remember a professor of mine saying, “The more you learn, the more you’ll learn … you have much more to learn.”

Sometimes people focus on the details. Why did the 35W bridge collapse? The NTSB said something about the steel gusset plates being designed improperly. That answer does explain “Why?” at a certain level. But it’s pretty unsatisfying. It doesn’t answer the deeper “Why?”

So, obviously, we don’t know everything. But do we know anything?

Here’s one thing I know. Whenever I teach “Perspectives on Evil and Suffering,” I invite people who have suffered significantly to share their stories. And the stories these incredible people tell are just unbelievable. But even more incredible is their bottom line. Over and over, those who have suffered have said: “Don’t get me wrong. It was horrible. But I am also thankful for my suffering. For without my suffering I would not know God as I do.”

Here’s another thing I know. Atheists won’t buy it. I know there are skeptics for whom the previous paragraph will bring disgust and even contempt. I had dozens of such conversations, and I get what they’re saying.

But with all due respect, I do know this: I can point to many friends—people of faith—who have walked with Christ through suffering. And I believe them when they say: “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve found God in the middle of my suffering.”

I’ve never suffered terribly. I can’t say I fully understand what these friends are saying. But I believe them.

The story we find ourselves in is true.

We who follow Jesus Christ live in the light of Good News. God is redeeming a broken world—a messed up, falling-apart-at-the-seams world. That’s real. But it’s not all that’s real. God’s doing something about this world. God is bringing healing and causing restoration. That’s real, too. Part of the reason we suffer is that God’s work isn’t done. And another thing: I’m pretty sure God is inviting us into that healing work.

There’s a lot we don’t know. We certainly don’t know about tomorrow. But I say we invest our full selves in each day. We live. We love. We work. We serve. And our lives are in God’s hands.

Ty and Nee, Dave and Allie, I love you more than life itself. Let’s Skype soon.

Do-Be-Do-Be-Do

Posted on April 16, 2013 by Stacey Hammons

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells. God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day. Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come and see the works of the Lord, the desolations he has brought on the earth. He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he burns the shields with fire.

“Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.” Psalm 46

The theme in my life lately has been “doing” or more accurately “overdoing.” I have often said that if God calls me to do something then I can trust that he will provide the time and resources to do it. But, in spite of my “best intentions” I have once again found myself without time or resources (or energy!!) to do it all.

Right now, I’ve been asking “what’s next in ministry?” and “what do I do to help my husband?” and “have I done everything I can for my kids?” I get so busy with trying to do the right thing and constantly asking God what to do that I forget to just be. God says, “be still” and I say, ok, just as soon as I get finished with this project. Next week. Next month. Next year.

Maybe other people like the craziness of life like I seem to. I am energized by chaos in a weird way. It motivates me to focus on doing one thing at a time (I did not get the multi-tasking gene). Today, for example, I’m writing this blog, preparing for a workshop this weekend and finishing my school assignments. Also, I have to go to my part-time job, finish some laundry, cook dinner, work-out, take care of the dog, shower and get dressed, make sure I drink enough water and pray for all the people I told I would be praying for them. The list can be endless – check email, respond to texts and phone calls, pay bills, clean the bathrooms…you get the point. It’s a long list of doing without much being. I feel very strongly the Holy Spirit urging me to STOP.

“Be still, Stacey, and know that I am God.”

Psalm 46 makes it clear that God will be God. He will be exalted. He will be the Lord Almighty because he that’s who he is. Not because of anything I do. He is in fact my strength. I can only do because he is.

So today I stopped trying to figure out what exactly I should be doing, or what anyone else should be doing (or what I can do to get them to do what they should be doing) and just rested in being.

Be still. Be loved. Be forgiven. Be thankful. Be blessed.

The doing will come as it always does, but it must not come without the being.

The Art of the Sale

Posted on April 15, 2013 by Andrew Zhao

Yesterday I bought a new acoustic guitar- a Breedlove Passport C250. Feel free to look it up- she’s a real beaut (I named her Geethali). Breedlove guitars are high-quality instruments that don’t require the musician to pay a ton for the brand (i.e. Taylors and Martins). I even made the trek out to Oakdale to get the particular guitar I wanted.
My friend Daniel and I walked into Guitar Center and started talking to one of the salesmen there. My past of business school and sales flooded back to me all at once.

See, being in seminary and doing ministry- there’s a high degree of emphasis on authenticity. I try to be genuine and I try to create spaces for others to do so as well, so that we can grow together in truth. To me, that’s an important element of Christian community. So when I encountered a young man displaying all the tricks of the trade that I learned back in the day, I couldn’t help but notice the extreme contrast.

First, let me be clear- the salesman was very helpful, friendly, and he wronged me in no way at all. He was also cheerfully excitable to a fault. Rather, two things happened that caught me off guard initially, but then I recognized what was going on. The first was that he made assumptions about me and then talked to me based on these assumptions. Apparently, after looking Daniel and myself over, he thought that the best way to pitch guitar insurance to me was to make the appeal that it would cover damage done by my idiot friends who could step on my guitar or might get beer all over the electronics. I told him I might have idiot friends, but they weren’t that idiotic. I live in a house with responsible adults and I don’t leave my guitar lying on the ground.

The next thing he did was he tried to rationalize and indirectly pressure me to buy that guitar insurance: [disclaimer: guitar insurance is not inherently bad. I just didn’t want it] he said I should buy it today because I might forget later, Minnesota weather would warp the guitar, he likes to ‘go big’ with his purchases so perhaps I should too, etc.
Again, he’d done nothing wrong. It’s what you’re taught in the business/sales world- connect with the person, become their friend, they won’t know they need something unless you explain to them why they need it, etc.

As I processed this encounter in my mind, I couldn’t help but think about evangelism. Sharing the Gospel with others can certainly take on this same mindset. I could go up to another person and assume that they want to hear the Good News in that very moment. I could try to ‘argue them into the kingdom” and explain to them why Christianity just makes sense. Or I could defend the attacks against Christianity. Or I could paint elaborate scenarios about planes crashing and asking folks where they thought they would go after they died.
My felt urgency to evangelize would trump the need someone might have to just be heard. The reality could be that a person has truly wrestled with their faith and they don’t need to hear a reinforcement of the notion that Christianity is simply “you’re going to hell, repent”. Or the reality that someone has been hurt by the church and doesn’t need another Christian to lack empathy or love for their story. Or the reality that someone might actually be Christian and might not actualize their faith in the same way. [I’ve had people continue to go through a tract with me even though I kept iterating that I was a Christian and was totally already on board!].
At the end of the day, the product is incredibly and profoundly beautiful. The product is life-changing. But we have to make sure we don’t tarnish it or hurt opportunities to share it’s love by getting too caught up in the art of the sale.