Building bridges of grace
Phil Callaway (Joyce Wieler)
IT IS A PRIVILEGE to speak at this EMC conference. I am not a Mennonite, but most of my best friends are, and my ancestors were Scottish, so I am cheap. I once said to my wife, “You are only getting one cup of tea from a teabag; you can do better.” So, I am an honorary Mennonite. Better yet, I am with brothers and sisters who love and serve Jesus.
A little girl was lost in the city. Frightened, she ran up and down the street searching for home. A policeman picked her up and they drove around as she looked for a familiar landmark. Finally, she pointed to a church and smiled. “You can let me out now,” she said. “That’s my church. I can find my way home from here.” God only knows how many have found their way home because you are faithfully serving God.
At a conference in a church, I told how my mother gave birth to me when she was almost 40. Afterward, two women were clearly disagreeing. One said to me, “I don’t think mothers should have children after 35. What do you think?” I thought about that and said, “I completely agree; 35 is a lot of children!” Despite their differences, these two went away laughing together.
Years ago, a man was bitten by a dog and rushed to the hospital where tests confirmed that he had rabies. Medical science had no cure back then. The doctor said, “Sir, we will do all we can, but you need to get your affairs in order. The dying man began writing vigorously. Later the doctor returned to find him still writing. “I’m glad you’re taking care of your will,” he said. “This ain’t no will,” said the dying man. “It’s a list of the people I’m going to bite before I die.”
Many of us have been bitten by long-faced Christians who don’t make the good news look so good. But here are three things those who build bridges of grace remember:
1. The fruit of the Spirit is not prunes.
A man wrote me a letter saying, “There is no record of Jesus laughing. Why do you do this comedy thing?” Evidently, this guy had not spent much time camping with 12 other men, as our Lord did. Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
Sadly, many of us aren’t known for our good cheer. I remember sitting in church as a kid thinking, I don’t want to spend eternity with some of these people. For some, joyful Christian is an oxymoron. Like jumbo shrimp. Microsoft Works. And Vancouver Sun.
In response to our radio program Laugh Again, many tell us how God has used humour and hope to encourage them. A teen said, “I listen to you every day. So, I guess I listen to you more than I listen to my mother.” A single mom in New Brunswick told me how she and her son heard me laughing on the radio. “I didn’t know Christians laughed,” she said. They kept listening, heard the gospel, and later placed their faith in Jesus. Psalm 126:2 talks about what happened when God freed the captives: “Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things for them.’”
Some consider Christians unpleasant people, but I’ve seen humour put them at ease and make them willing to listen. Chuck Colson said, “I’ve known many people who were turned off by Christians who were just too serious, but I’ve never known one who refused to listen to someone who first made them laugh.”
In our cranky, hurting world, may our churches be joy-filled havens.
2. Don’t jump from the train when you’re in a tunnel.
Years ago a gentleman called me. “I don’t like your sense of humour,” he said. “We’re in the last days here. This is hardly a time for laughter.” What would you say? I said, “Is that you, Dad?” He didn’t find that funny. I told him that my wife had lost five immediate family members in one year, thanks to Huntington’s Disease and cancer. “I don’t know where we would be without the joy of Christ and the hope of Heaven,” I said.
Joy and perseverance amid difficulty are powerful magnets to the kingdom of God.
Joy and perseverance amid difficulty are powerful magnets to the kingdom of God. I have watched my brothers-in-law faithfully nurse my wife’s sisters through this awful disease. Their faithfulness has yanked me from complacency and complaint and coaxed me forward.
One study claims that 82% of non-religious people would be willing to have a conversation with a Christian about faith if they would do five things that build bridges of grace.
Just be present and listen. There’s a guy on our street who holds the world record for concussions. Sixty-seven! He lives just a stone’s throw away. Bad joke. But some would rather throw stones than be there and listen. People are lonely. You can now rent a walking buddy for $30 an hour. Instead, buy a pie and deliver it. Who says “no” to a pie? Humans are funny people. Our favourite topic is usually ourselves. So, ask compelling questions and you’ll catch your legal limit in friends. In fact, you’ll make more friends in a week by being interested than in a year of being interesting. Don’t just ask, “What’s your name?” say, “Is there a story behind your name?” Get them talking about what floats their boat.
Walk in their shoes. Allow them to tell their story without jumping in or defending your point of view. If your neighbours aren’t interested in spiritual things, no problem. They’re not your project; they’re people in process. Love them. They are created in God’s image with incredible dignity worth and value.
Identify common ground. Relationships are forged around food and sports, kids and grandkids. Go looking for common ground.
Talk like a real person. Don’t slip into Christianese. Explain your terms.
Be real. During a flight, my seatmate discovered that I was a Christian. He said, “I’ve had bad experiences with Christians.” I said, “Really? Me too.” He laughed. And we enjoyed a four-hour conversation about Jesus. I didn’t “lead him to Christ.” Or did I? In admitting my own struggles, a bridge was built. In asking him what he loved about his work, I discovered he counselled people suffering with Huntington’s Disease. I couldn’t provide all the answers to his questions, nor could he explain away my faithfulness and commitment.
This is a time when deconstruction and exvangelical are major hashtags.
Any path is valid except the historic Christian one. “Just live your truth,” is the mantra. We’re self-oriented, not truth-oriented. Interestingly, a crisis is almost always the fuse that ignites this departure from our churches. How we deal with life’s difficulties speaks volumes. People want to know if faith makes a difference in our marriage, our singleness, our parenting, infertility, pain and doubts.
In our lonely, disoriented world, may we be known for our warmth and steadfast commitment.
How we deal with life’s difficulties speaks volumes. People want to know if faith makes a difference in our marriage, our singleness, our parenting, infertility, pain and doubts.
3. Live so the preacher won’t have to lie at your funeral.
My Dad was an ordained minister with the Evangelical Free Church. I think we liked that denomination because there was no tithe, it was free! But I know enough about ministry to know that, outside of being a mother, you have the highest calling. Chuck Swindoll was once introduced as a suppository preacher. I asked him, “What did you do?” He said, “I got up and supposited the word, Brother.”
When he died, my father didn’t leave much behind. Or did he? John Lennon, the famous ex-Beatle, was worth $530 million when he died. But biographers paint him as a lonely, frightened man, fearful of the future, unable to sleep with the lights off. His son Julian said, “My father was a hypocrite … Dad could talk about peace and love out loud to the world, but he could never show it to the people who supposedly meant the most to him: his wife and son … the only thing he taught me was how not to be a father.”
My father was several postal codes from perfect. For one thing, he always started songs too high. But he sang my mom’s praises for 62 years. And he never seemed to get over the fact that God had redeemed him, a sinner, saved by grace alone. I don’t recall a day when he missed praying or gazing at an open Bible. He didn’t chase money or notoriety, he chased after God. I first heard him say “I love you,” when he was 77. I never doubted that he did, but it was nice to hear those words.
As I reflect on those who have impacted my life, five words come to mind that form an acrostic for grace.
Grateful. She was six weeks old when a doctor misdiagnosed her illness and put a poultice on her eyes, robbing her sight. She would never see the faces of friends, flowers, or the magnificence of the stars. But when she was older, her mother told her that “two of the world’s great poets were blind and that sometimes Providence deprived persons of some physical faculty so the spiritual insight might more fully awake.” And did it ever.
Fanny Crosby went on to write over 8,000 hymns including one of my favorites, “All the Way My Saviour Leads Me.” At the age of eight, she wrote, “Oh, what a happy soul am I, although I cannot see. I am resolved that in this world contented I will be. How many blessings I enjoy that other people don’t. To weep and sigh because I’m blind, I cannot and I won’t.” Gratitude is the great secret of the joy-filled life.
True service for Christ is always rooted in thankful hearts.
Rustproof. At my age, I don’t even know what to wear. “Do I wear boxers or briefs?” I asked my wife. She said, “Well … depends.” A 93-year-old friend was asked, “Do you like the loud music in your church?” He said, “I like the people who like that music.” When I grow up, I want to be like him. I want to die young as old as I can.
Amazed. My mother caught me smoking when I was ten. My older brother told me what would happen. “She’ll cut your lips off!” But she didn’t. Mom merely said, “Smoking won’t send you to hell. It will just make you smell like you’ve been there.” May we never cease being amazed by God’s grace. He constantly uses the most underqualified to do his work. Because we know we can’t do it without him. And when good things happen, we know exactly who gets the credit.
Compassionate. I grew up below the poverty line but witnessed outrageous generosity and hospitality. The message of the cross reaches our hearts and clear down to our wallets. We don’t hold money in our hearts, but in our open hands. We know there’s pain in every pew, so we reach out with compassion.
The message of the cross reaches our hearts and clear down to our wallets. We don’t hold money in our hearts, but in our open hands.
Expectant. After teaching about heaven, a Sunday School teacher tested her students: “If I sold my house and car and gave all my money to the church, would that get me into heaven? “No!” the kids answered. “What would get me into heaven?” she asked. A little boy said, “You gotta be dead!”
Those who think most of the next world make the greatest difference in this one. We expect God to do great things. He has throughout history; he’s not about to stop now.
When I turned 35, my son said, “Dad, you’re half dead.” So, I tucked him into bed. And removed him from the will. Actually, I started thinking about what I wanted on my tombstone. There are funny ones: “See, I told you I was sick.” The wife of a man known as a womanizer put up this epitaph: “Frank. At least I know where you’re sleeping tonight.”
I thank God that this will not speak of any of our lives. What do I want on my tombstone? “He found God’s grace too amazing to keep to himself.”
That is you, my friends. Keep it up. God bless you as you live with joy, perseverance, and integrity—all the way Home.
This message is based on one of Phil’s presentations at EMC Festival 2024 in La Crete, Alta., held June 28–30. Find the videos here.
