One of the fundamental tenets of Jesus’ teaching and preaching was that it demanded a response. The whole process of responding to the gospel of Christ and his kingdom is called conversion. It is through repentance and conversion that one becomes—and remains—a member of God’s alternative community. But the conversion process is not just an emotional decision made by an individual about the spiritual priorities in his or her life. Conversion certainly involves the individual, and addresses the spiritual and the emotional dimensions of life, but it includes much more than that. Let me simply note that conversion, in the scriptures, always includes at least seven elements:
- Conversion always involves a turning from (repentance) as well as a turning to.
- The call to conversion goes out not only to unbelievers, but to believers as well. This was particularly true in the Old Testament. Indeed the call to repent and be converted was normally addressed to Israel.
- Conversion is always contextual. It is linked to a specific moment in time (God’s kairos), to a particular person or group, to a particular place or situation.
- Conversion always implies a transfer of loyalty or allegiance. It implies an exchange of lords. It means becoming citizens of the Kingdom of God.
- Conversion always involves an element of self-denial. Conversion is exactly the opposite of entering a state of relaxation and rest, for it involves losing oneself, leaving the self behind, and taking up a cross.
- Conversion is a journey into the unknown. To follow Jesus implies a certain insecurity and homelessness (Matthew 8:20). This pilgrim’s existence corresponds to God’s pattern of leading His people Israel through the desert, in order that they might remain dependent upon God daily.
- Conversion simultaneously implies new relationships with both God and humankind. It is vertical and horizontal, spiritual as well as societal (James 2:19-20, Hosea 12:6).
Conversion, then, involves a whole new way of life, a turning away from other loyalties to follow Christ. It means abandoning those things to which one is most attached and devoted. The fruits of repentance and conversion are as diverse as are the contexts in which the conversions take place. For some, like the apostle Paul, conversion meant a whole new attitude toward human relationships, so that he treated people in a new way, with love and respect (2 Corinthians 5:17). For others, like Zacchaeus, conversion was linked to abandoning his unjust practices and his obsession with material wealth.
The danger, of course, is that we can minimize or ignore some of these dimensions of the conversion process, and fall into what we might call cheap or selective conversion. That’s where only certain parts of the gospel are really accepted, and so whole areas of our lives—consciously or unconsciously—remain unconverted. Cheap conversion allows us to make some peripheral sacrifices without being forced to come face to face with the costly, absolute demands of God. Cheap conversion compels us to pass the sermon on as easily as if it were the collection plate, so that we think the message God is speaking is to someone other than ourselves. Cheap conversion allows people to blame others when needed change doesn’t come—rather than seeking to change ourselves.
No, becoming a member of God’s community is a risky affair, because it means being ruthlessly honest with one another. It means demolishing all of the walls that protect us, and opening ourselves to God and to others.
Who is able to do such things? Or as the disciples put it, “Lord, who then can be saved?” In our own strength, none of us are capable of such a radical conversion. That’s why conversion is ultimately the work of God in us, and not something we can do ourselves. For no one can come to Jesus unless he or she is drawn by the Father (John 6:44). We can only respond to God’s gracious invitation with heartfelt repentance and sincere trusting faith, with the assurance, as scripture puts it, that “God is faithful; by Him you were called into the fellowship of His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord” (1 Corinthians 1:9).
Jesus offered a whole new way to be the people of God in the world. He presented a new definition of community, where the old barriers have been torn down; and, a new interpretation of the present time, that in his life and ministry the new age of God’s Kingdom had come; and he issued a prophetic call to true conversion.
But how are all these realities to be lived out by those of us who are seeking to “no longer be conformed to the patterns of this world” (Romans 12:2) but to be transformed by Christ and his message? Life in God’s new family, in Christ’s alternative community, is to be typified by a lifestyle of boundless compassion towards others. The “pattern of this world” that Paul spoke of is inward–looking and characterized by human self-centredness, selfishness and self-assertion. But the compassion that Christ lived out and expects from those who follow him is outward-looking, outgoing and other-centred, like the very nature of God Himself.
Indeed, the whole story of Israel is a narrative of a God who is passionately committed to love an undeserving people, and through that loving covenant relationship with Israel, to extend His saving blessing to all the nations of the earth. God’s heart of compassion was the compelling reason the Son of God left his home in heaven and humbled himself to become a human being in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. And this compassion was at the very core of Christ’s ministry and teaching.
We see it from the parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus asked the lawyer, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer had to admit grudgingly: “I suppose it was the man who had compassion on him.” And Jesus said, “Go and do as he did” (Luke 10:36-37).
Upon whom did Jesus show compassion? Listen to this litany of persons mentioned in the gospels: Jesus offered compassion to the poor, the blind, the lame, the lepers, the hungry, the sinners, those who weep, the sick, children, widows, captives, the persecuted, the down-trodden, the last, the least, those who are weary and heavily burdened, the lost sheep, and on we could go. (See Albert Nolan, Jesus Before Christianity.) Yet these were the very same people that the Pharisees labeled as sinners, and the “rabble who knew nothing of the law” (John 7:49).
What a contrast between the boundless compassion of Jesus and the total lack of compassion of the Pharisees, with their cold, hard, judgmental attitude! Jesus had a heart for those who were lost; indeed he said that he came to seek and to save those who were lost (Luke 15). And he judged people in accordance with the way they treated these lost ones. For Jesus, compassion was to be the one, overriding characteristic of God’s new community, and the test par excellence of true discipleship.
And what does a community shaped by the compassion of Jesus look like? We are called to be a community that finds our identity and life in Christ and his cross. We are to be a community that is loving and united, hospitable and sharing. We are an evangelizing, missional people, vigilant in prayer, gifted by the Spirit for service, and holding each other accountable to grow in grace.
Now that’s a truly tall order, indeed! And we are still very far from the ideal. But because of what Christ has done for us on the cross, it has now become a possibility for us … and a responsibility!
By the power of God’s Spirit, we are called to press on and strive for this vision of the alternative community, because the very credibility of the gospel is at stake. That was the thing that excited the interest of non-Christians in the first century: the quality of brotherly love in the new Christian communities.
Numerous mission historians have written that the central factor in the rapid and spontaneous expansion of the church in its first centuries of existence was the quality of life and relationships that it provided for its members. Wherever Christians popped up, they roused the interest of the populace because there were no observable social barriers between them. Historians calculate that by 300 A.D., fully half the population in the cities of the Roman Empire were Christian. And this expansion occurred not because of some well-organized missionary strategy but through the winsome witness of thousands of ordinary Christian believers. And we also know that their verbal witness would have been useless had it not been sustained by their community life, and their compassion towards all, including non-believers.
These factors undoubtedly attracted attention to the early church, including both admiration and persecution. But one way or the other, the church in the first century surely provoked a reaction for the world around them, which is more than you can say for most churches today.
The point, which is as valid in our day as in the first century, is that you don’t evangelize people just by speaking to them. People will always believe their eyes first. And they will never believe something they hear—no matter how beautiful and attractive it is—when it is flatly contradicted by what they see. All our efforts at evangelism and discipleship will be less than useless unless something is done about the credibility of the quality of our lives.
The real stumbling block to evangelism therefore often happens to be the church itself—the very church whose reason for being is to be a pointer to Christ and to attract men and women to him! The church is called to a continuing conversion. The key to the renewal of the church will not be found through a marketing scheme or a church growth campaign or adopting the latest trendy program. It will be found when we rediscover our calling to be the people of God, living out a lifestyle of transparent, practical, Spirit-filled love for our neighbours, and especially among our brothers and sisters in the household of faith.
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