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A newly appointed minister was preparing to deliver his first sermon. As expected, he was as nervous as a long tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs. In his introduction he misquoted Jesus as follows, "I have come to heal the dead, cast out the sick, and raise the devil."

Jesus did not want to be misquoted. In fact, he wanted to make his lasting impressions stick. How could the disciples ever forget his last impression, the Great Commission? With the mandate, he commanded they go and make his love the change agent. He wanted them to comprehend - more than they would understand anything in their entire lives - the agenda of that assignment. He wanted them to place the accent upon his uniqueness as a person-mender ... giving out technicolor flowers of hope ... going with blisters on their knees.

Today, however, are we really making it happen according to blueprint? If not, why? Is there a breakdown of communications? Have we confined evangelism to pew filling, jolly green giant building programs, fatted calf budgets, a "feelin' fine, prime-time prosperity gospel" a la tube? Wilbur Rees illustrates in his $3.00 Worth of God, "I would like to buy $3.00 worth of God, please, not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk ... I want ecstacy, not transformation; I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth."

Is it possible to reclaim the soul and mind from technolological humanism and video promised lands? Our Lord's commission is as urgent as ever. "Go for it now!" In the New Testament church the immediacy of the gospel was as welcomed as rainfall on dry ground. The explosion of the Good News principle became a radical switch from the bad news omens of Roman muscle. Today, as then, the gospel is good news, not stale hearsay. The gospel, freshly perked with hope, bubbles forth God's latest Word - even though it was forged into time nearly 2000 years ago. It never goes stale, even though we may freeze-dry it in creeds or dehydrate it in stained glass prayers.

With each generation the Good News principle breathes forth gently winds of hope. As with the barnyard birth of his Son, God chooses to touch his anointed in subtle, back street settings. He has always had a thing for dark horse unknowns.

He applauds those who come through with the winning play in the late fourth quarter. On Sunday morning, January 6, 1850, a teenager was sent to church by his mother. On the way he had to fight his way through a blinding snow storm. He never made it to his mother's church. Instead, he took a detour and found himself in "Artillary Street Primitive Methodist Church." It was a small congregation, The minister could not come. A shoemaker agreed to preach. His sermon was brief and he quickly ran out of anything to say. He looked at the fifteen-year-old who had just wandered in and said, "Young man, you're in trouble. Look to Jesus Christ. Look! Look! Look! Because Charles Haddon Spurgeon did look, he became one of the most effective and dynamic preachers of the ages. The disciples looked to Jesus and he promised he would look in their direction.Then the disciples looked to others.

Principally, evangelism involves eyeballing Jesus. From there, we look to others. His love for us is such that we love others - and affirm our own value, as well. Without his love, our faith and hope fall flat. "So faith, hope, and love abide, these three, but the greatest of these is love." (1 Corinthians 13:13) Love becomes the tough breed of the three, the bruising fullback, which must take the punishment of greed and intolerance.

Jesus customized love. That means he personalized it. That does not mean, however, that his love serves as a computer, spitting out precise answers to our moral questions. The Pharisees bombed out on that score. What that does mean is that his love serves as the fuse which ignites our minds, giving them enough rope as it were, to make those crucial choices. After all, the test of his love is made in the type of decisions we make. Consider the example of a grocer who praised a new minister who had moved into town. "Have you heard him preach?" he asked. "No, I haven't." "Then how do you know he's good?" The grocer replied, "Because his members have started paying their bills."

In the great Commission Jesus' formula for evangelism comes into full circle. That is, by teaching his truth and baptizing others with his love, his dove of peace descends our way. "I am with you always, even to the close of the age." His peace come to us, touches our anxieties, and stays with us longer than the weekend. Just like his love, his peace must overflow to others. We cannot stay at peace with our peace alone. It is to be broken like bread and shared.

A minister was talking with a man preparing to join the church. He suggested he think about serving on the church's council on ministries. "Oh, I'm not interested in anything like that. I just want to join the church," the man said. The minister continued by saying that it was customary to have all members divided into service groups. The man again replied, "I'm sorry but I didn't know this was that kind of church. I believe I'll visit other churches before making a decision to join." Finally, the minister said, "This church is known as the Church of the Savior. Perhaps you are looking for the Church of the Heavenly Rest."

Etching his laser proclamation, his call for redemption in our day will wear different gloves. Creatively, it will approach worship not as a sleepy time ritual, but a faith "happening" which communicates to Mrs. Robinson that "Jesus loves you more than you will ever know." It will beg an attitude of openness in our church school classes and sharing groups - challenging us to turn the page of change. Of course, that may step on Uncle Ben's toes and compel him to loosen his check book. The church must risk its institutional preservation in order to salvage the moral stability of its children who are confused enough by a changing world. More simply, it is retelling the old, old story of Jesus and his love; or, as D. T. Niles suggests, "one beggar telling another beggar where to find food."

Look to Jesus! He's obsessed with our future. Let's meet him now on the horizon of our faith.