For Wilshire Baptist Church
A couple of days before Christmas I was in a music store, waiting in line to buy a tambourine, and getting impatient. But when I heard the conversation at the counter in front of me, I jumped in and offered my two cents because I believed I had some real-life experience to offer.
A mother was asking about the best type of flute to buy for her teenage daughter, and the clerk was talking about metal finishes and popularity and quoting prices that were sky high. Having started out on the flute in band, I had what I thought was some practical advice: buy the easiest one to hold and cover with your fingers while learning the basics of blowing and fingering the notes, and then move up on quality when you’re ready. They sort of smiled and thanked me and turned back to continue their discussion. Then, while the mother and daughter stepped aside to consider the options, the clerk checked me out and I was on my way.
Thinking about it now, I have some misgivings because while I’ll step up and offer unsolicited advice about a flute, I’ve never been that eager about my Christian witness – “testifying” as it’s called. And as time has gone by, I’ve become even less inclined because too many times we Christians have come on way too strong. We’ve also stumbled and fallen in spectacular fashion and that has been incentive enough to hold back and be quiet.
I had a big “whoa” moment in the first days of my freshman year at Baylor when there was a knock at my dorm room door and I opened it to find a tall thin student a couple of years older than me. He said he was from the Baptist Student Union and he came in, sat down on my roommate’s bed, and began to question me about my faith. I was dumbfounded because I was at the world’s largest Baptist university, for goodness sake, and at that time it was still predominantly Baptist, and I was being interrogated like I was a known atheist. I was actually speechless and couldn’t find a response until my roommate came in, quickly assessed the situation, and told the proselytizer to leave.
So, before then and certainly ever since then, I’ve been hesitant to go full evangelical missionary on anybody. But then I had trouble as a kid going door to door to collect payment for my paper route or sell candy for the band. It’s just not been in my DNA to bother anyone about anything. That’s not to say I don’t admire the church groups who still have the gumption and feel the call to do that.
I think what’s happened instead is that I’ve come to believe that perhaps the best witness I can give is to be my best self – the self that the God I profess created, and not the self that I sometimes have created on my own. That in itself is hard enough with so many societal pressures bombarding us. I’m not talking about “alcohol, tobacco and cards” like in the old days of Christian temperance. I’m talking about “the seven deadly sins”: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride. And really, I’m talking about the modern manifestations of those sins: desire for someone else’s stuff, over-indulgence on getting and having stuff, laziness in relationships and responsibilities because I’m busy with my stuff, anger at someone questioning my opinions and priorities, and self-assurance that I’ve got it all figured out.
The impatience I felt while waiting at the music store indicates I believe my needs and attention are more important than someone else’s. All to say, I still have plenty of work to do on myself. On the other hand, I did say something to that young flute player that I hope will resonate: “Enjoy learning to play because music is something you can do your entire life. My wife still plays the flute, I play the sax, and we still enjoy it.” Maybe there’s some “testimony” in that.
By the way, I wasn’t buying that tambourine for myself; I’m not joining a praise band or going on the road with a folk group. I was purchasing it for someone who wanted to give it as an encouragement to a church musician.