Yesterday I had an experience that, truth be told, I would never have expected in a million years. That’s not hyperbole! This struck out of the blue without any warning. It left me with a crinkled brow wondering, WTF? Now, it may sound like some earth shattering event took place. Something that completely rocked my world. It wasn’t. Not by any stretch. It was a surprise, though. A scratch-your-head-and-you-head kind of surprise.
I received a piece of mail. Yeah, just an envelope with stuff inside. It was addressed to me. It looks like the sender used a home ink jet printer to address it. The return address simply stated, “Narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, few there be that find it.” That’s it. No real return address. No name. No nothing except some King James verse without any context. Inside of the envelope there was no note or letter. There was, again, nothing to identify the sender. There were simply 2 religious tracts produced by a guy named Jack Chick. Now, for those of you who don’t know, Jack Thomas Chick was a fundamentalist cartoonist who produced small comic-like tracts with some kind of pre-millenial gobbledy-gook. These were designed to instill fear into the reader that would force the reader to make a choice to follow Jesus and avoid whatever mean and hateful future awaited them.
At first, I was a bit miffed. Apparently, the sender has so much concern for my immortal soul that he/she was willing to look up my address and spend postage to send these. If you’re reading this, thanks for that. I guess. But, what initially ticked my off was that the person appears to be a coward hiding behind the veil on anonymity. Not afraid to perhaps offend someone. Yet, too afraid to stand up and be accountable.
That was my initial reaction. Then, I laughed and tossed the stuff in the recycle bin.
However, as I reflected on this I realized something.
This was me 50 years ago. Way back then, when Chick was still alive and producing his nonsense, I was that guy at the mall or at the park quietly walking up, and with shaking hands, handed Chick tracts to anyone who would accept them. Of course, we were supposed to then engage with those folks and explain to them the Four Spiritual Flaws or the Roamin’ Rode way to salvation. Because, we knew that unless these poor unbelieving heathens confessed their sins and recited the magic words that we told them to say, they would be lost to eternal flame and torment. We didn’t wait. We handed of our treasure and trusted that God would miraculously touch their hearts when they read about the coming apocalypse of the inevitable ending of their misguided life. Remember the “narrow way” thing? I put my heart into that kind of ministry. Either as a performer on stage, (again separated from real people), or dropping hate filled missives to people I thought were in the gravest of danger. I think that all of us who were caught up in that time felt like we were doing our job as true disciples of Christ. We were doing the work of the evangelist. We were the Watchmen on the wall warning the poor, ignorant, unsuspecting multitudes of the impending doom that was coming over the horizon. We were deadly serious about that work. We were also cowards who really never wanted to engage with people. So, we timidly passed out our tracts. Or, we hid them in library books so that someone might actually find it and read it. I know some that went to adult bookstores just to place the tracts in the merchandise that these ‘angels of hell’ were distributing.
So, I can sympathize with my anonymous friend. It’s hard to look someone in the eye and tell them that they are in danger of hell’s torment.
Or, it may be that, like me, this person has doubts about that. Is this truly the way things will work out? Will a Just and Righteous God actually condemn people, most of whom are completely unknowing about our God? Does this person feel a tinge of embarrassment about intruding on a complete stranger’s life? Maybe a bit of all of the above.
I have no ill feelings toward this person. I would, however, sit down for a cup of coffee and chat rather than deal with all of the cloak and dagger stuff. It’s always better to talk about things than to make untrue assumptions about others. At least, that’s what I’ve learned over the past 50 years.
If the person who sent these to me is reading this, I extend that invitation to engage. After all, didn’t Jesus tell us to love one another? I’m neither you enemy nor you mission field. If you don’t want to talk. That’s OK. I’ll continue to lift you to God in prayer. I will also ask you not to waste your postage on me. Chick tracts are by far the worst evangelistic tool ever invented. I won’t read them.
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