Don’t be the Dead Sea
This post by guest author Amy Ritter.
When I have a free moment as a college student, my tendency is to fill it with something relaxing or fun: witnessing falls into neither of those categories. Some of us avoid evangelism at all costs, and others respond with a pious “I’ll pray about it,” with no intention of any real commitment.
A few Fridays ago I found myself at La Mirada High School, just a few blocks from Biola, on a witnessing day with California School Project. As we walked over in the afternoon heat, nervousness and reluctance set in beneath my smiles.
I learned about CSP watching the ministry of several friends over the last year—their passion and service is contagious. It seems that few things are more exciting in their lives than seeing young people open their hearts to God.
And I wondered why my desires and joys seemed so insignificant.
When we arrived at the school, our CSP group split into twos and threes to go and talk with students. Its funny how much anxiety flares up when approaching a stranger—and how quickly it disappears in a friendly conversation.
The first young ladies we talked with told us they were Catholic when we asked if they knew God. After discovering they were involved in church, we were able to move on to their personal understanding of God. One said she thought people go to heaven if they do good things and try to live a good life, so we talked about grace a little bit. They also told us about confession at church, which led me to tell them about how we can listen to God and hear from him ourselves, involving him in all parts of the day.
After that, we found two more ladies who sat down with us and opened up about their views of God. One of them told us flat out that she was sad a lot of the time, even though she went to church. After getting her number so that we could meet up later, our team realized it was time to meet with the rest of the CSP group.
Just two conversations and an hour passed easily—it literally felt like five minutes.
Let me speak to readers like me: Our hearts are dull to need after years of soaking in fun and relaxation. We fear approaching a stranger for violation of our comfort and are ignorant to the joy of giving away the life we have received ourselves. Maybe we have forgotten the life we received, and therefore feel we have nothing to give freely.
These ladies I talked with on a Friday afternoon had hearts with doors standing open. The life within me is the Spirit of God, and I simply made myself available as a vessel for life to transfer from me to someone else. God met those girls in their pain and their questions—I was simply present with a mouth to speak, a hand to comfort, and ears to listen.
One of my professors illustrated stale religion using the image of the Dead Sea. The Jordan River flows into the Sea of Galilee and out again, leaving behind a body of water full of life, constantly emptied and replenished. Continuing south, the river makes its end in the Dead Sea, which is so thick with mineral deposit nothing can live in its waters. Each sea has a source, but the sea that is alive is the one that is both receiving and giving life.
In many ways I have been a Dead Sea, and the only way years of built-up selfishness and comfort will dissolve is if I allow an outlet. I tasted this through CSP and I hope others can do the same, until we all have a raging river of life flowing out from us.
