There were six of us who accompanied Lee that day, and we were a motley crew: Four white guys, two Nigerian immigrants and Lee, who is a stocky African-American with a broad smile and a contagious laugh. All of us were eager to share our faith and pray for people’s needs.
We split up into small groups and I tagged along with Lee. He had an uncanny way of breaking the ice when we walked up to strangers.
“Hey, how y’all doin’?” he asked three people sitting on the steps in front of an apartment building. “This is Pastor Lee, and I’m Reverend Lee. He’s my brother from another mother.”
We all laughed and then Lee began his familiar spiel. “I need to ask you a question,” he told a man who was holding a cigarette in one hand and a liquor bottle in the other. “If something happened to you, God forbid, where would you spend eternity?”
We asked that blunt question to about 30 people that afternoon—including an 83-year-old woman named Ms. Irene who was not sure of her salvation even though she said she attended church. We led her in a sinner’s prayer while we stood at the intersection of Monument and Collington. Then I escorted Ms. Irene across the street so cars wouldn’t run over her.
We prayed with all kinds of folks on the sidewalks. A guy named Lesley admitted that he had an addiction and asked for God’s help to break it. A woman asked if Lee’s church could give her a ride to services on Sunday. A young Asian man named David admitted that he was a backslider and listened as I shared the story of God’s unconditional love for prodigals.
A beggar with crippled feet told me that he knew he needed salvation. I put my arm around him while we prayed the sinner’s prayer together on the steps where he begs for spare change every day. Then a lady we had prayed with 15 minutes earlier walked by and offered to take the beggar to church with her.
Most of the people we talked to were friendly and receptive—except for two angry guys who said they had no use for Jesus because they followed an Afro-centric religion. One drunken guy who prayed with my friends Danny and Brandon became instantly sober and then abandoned his 12-pack of beer on the street. By the time our team reconvened in a parking lot, at least a dozen people had given their hearts to the Lord.
Lee has been sharing the gospel in this needy neighborhood for almost two years, and he also takes teams from his church, Evangel Cathedral, to malls and bus stops in suburban areas of the city. He has recorded more than 23,000 decisions—but his mission is not about collecting names for a report. He simply believes in a literal interpretation of Luke 14:23, which commands us to “go out into the highways and along the hedges, and compel them to come in” (NASB).
I asked Lee why he thinks many Christians aren’t involved in personal evangelism. He offered three reasons:
1. Fear. Many simply have never shared their faith or don’t know how to open a conversation about it. Others don’t like to be rejected.
2. Lack of training. Many people assume they don’t have the knowledge to answer tough questions. Others are not sure about their own salvation. “How can they lead someone to Christ if they really don’t know if they are saved?” Lee asks.
3. Apathy. Says Lee: “Many Christians just come to church to be fed. The spiritual needs of other people don’t affect them.”
Ouch. Although I’ve done street ministry before and was active in personal evangelism as a college student, I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I intentionally went into any kind of neighborhood—rich, poor or middle-class—to witness. And even though I frequently go on ministry trips to foreign countries, I realized this weekend that I am shirking the Great Commission if I avoid sharing my faith in my own backyard.
After only a few hours with my brother Lewis Lee, I was convicted that soul-winning should be a lifestyle. I hope you’ll make it yours.
