“The Ordinary Means of Ordinary Outreach: Reaching Our World without Losing Our Way, Part 3: The Word”

Nick Robison

One of my wife’s and my favorite date night pastimes is “people watching.” People fascinate us, and seeing them out and about in their element is always entertaining. One of our favorite observations is a couple clearly on a first date. The nervousness is palpable—especially for the guy! I particularly enjoy watching when he is waging an internal war over what in tarnation to do with his hands! Does he put them in his lap? Does he lay them flat on the table? Or should he strike the “thinking man” pose? Ah! That’s the one! Now she’ll be so impressed by how thoughtful and deep you are that she’ll surely want to marry you before you leave this Whataburger!

But not all episodes of “people watching” are awkward rom-coms. Sometimes, they are heartwarming. Just the other day, we were seated next to a large group celebrating something. Among them was a man who stood out to me because, whenever I heard him speaking to someone, it was clear that they had never met before. At the close of the night, he got up, walked over to a woman standing next to my seat, shook her hand, and offered what might have been the most genuine display of appreciation I have ever witnessed. All he said was, “Thank you so much for inviting me! I had the greatest time!”

I have heard plenty of people say similar things when leaving a gathering, but I do not believe I have ever heard anyone mean it quite like he did.

There is something special about being invited into someone else’s world. It makes a person feel like they belong, rather than being an outsider. And that is, ultimately, what the Christian is trying to accomplish in outreach. Through the grace of God in us, we are reaching out to people so that we can bring them into our world—into the "world without end," the Kingdom of Christ.

This article is the last in my three-part series on outreach and the ordinary means of grace, but it is certainly not the least, as it deals with the preaching of the Word of God. There is nothing people outside the church need more than preaching. Jesus was sent by His Father so that He might preach, and so He made it His chief priority to go throughout Israel proclaiming the Good News of the Kingdom of God.1 Paul’s great purpose in ministry was to show people that the way to God was not through works but through faith, and so he dedicated his life to preaching and raising up preachers.2 Even the apostolic church itself was structured in a way that freed men to devote themselves to prayer and preaching.3

For these reasons, the church of Christ throughout the ages has emphasized the primacy of preaching. The Second Helvetic Confession states that the preaching of the Word “is the Word of God.” The Westminster Larger Catechism, in its answer to Question 155, declares:

“The Spirit of God makes the reading, but especially the preaching of the Word, an effectual means of enlightening, convincing, and humbling sinners; of driving them out of themselves, and drawing them unto Christ; of conforming them to his image, and subduing them to his will; of strengthening them against temptations and corruptions; of building them up in grace, and establishing their hearts in holiness and comfort through faith unto salvation.”

All of this is to say that preaching is critical to the salvation of sinners.

Because of this, the Christian church—by having preachers who are, to borrow the language of the Helvetic Confession, “lawfully called”—has something wonderful to offer our communities: the special means of their salvation.

And so, I am baffled when I hear some claim that inviting someone to church is not “evangelism.” Technically, they may be correct, but practically and pastorally, they are mistaken. Not everyone has the gift of gab. Not everyone can openly discuss their faith with everyone they meet. Some are so conflict-averse that the mere thought of challenging another person’s beliefs is paralyzing. But regardless of how eloquent a Christian may or may not be, anyone can say, “Why don’t you come to church with me?” There, the preacher can make an appeal from the pulpit, and by the Spirit’s power, his weak words can become the means of grace that brings about a new heart—one that believes in Christ and cherishes all His benefits.

And if I might toot my Reformed and Presbyterian horn for a moment, we in the ARP have something special to offer the world. Even before I was Presbyterian, I always noticed that there was something different about Reformed preaching. It was always biblical, unashamed of God’s power and sovereignty, and rooted in history. Whenever I hear a Reformed preacher quote Augustine, Chrysostom, Calvin, Luther, Sibbes, or others, I am blown away by the realization that our faith stands on the shoulders of such giants.

Our world—and, sadly, even our churches—have become obsessed with the new. But younger generations seem increasingly suspicious of novelty and are searching for something true. And what better testimony is there to truth than its antiquity? Truth does not have an expiration date, nor is it bound by space or time. God is truth, and because of that, truth mirrors his perfections. It is eternal, infinite, and transcends every fleeting trend a fallen world can devise. The ARP, and other historically Reformed denominations, have something ancient and unshakable to offer the world: the truth of the Word, handed down to us by God Himself and proclaimed by the mouths of giants.

So, dear Christian, invite as many people as you can to church! There is nothing they need more. But for a sermon to be of much use to an outsider, it must be evangelical. And here, I must make an appeal to preachers: Be careful to season your sermons with evangelistic zeal.

There are two reasons for this. First, chances are that not everyone in your congregation is a believer. How many times in ministry have we encountered people who tell us that they had been in church their whole lives—attending every Lord’s Day, sitting in Sunday School classes—only to be converted in old age? I have even heard stories of ministers who were converted through their own preaching! If a minister himself can be unconverted, is it not possible that many elders, deacons, and members in our congregations are unconverted as well? And what is the power of God unto salvation, if not the gospel? And what makes the gospel effectual for salvation, if not the Holy Spirit joining His power to the fallible voice of a preacher?

The second reason our sermons should always be infused with evangelical zeal is that we preach Christ! I once had a physicist explain how gravity works. He said it is like placing tennis balls all over a trampoline. When undisturbed, they remain scattered. But when you throw a bowling ball onto the trampoline, its sheer mass collapses the fabric and pulls everything toward it. That is how gravity works—and it is also how Christ works in a sermon.

The glory of Christ crucified is so massive that it must draw every element of a sermon to itself. All doctrine, all application, all illustration must be directed toward the glory of Christ on the cross. Christ must be the center of our sermons’ solar system, with everything else in orbit around Him. This is why Paul said, “I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2).

When Christ is central to our preaching, sinners are drawn to Him. And not just unbelievers— believers, too, for they are sinners as well. In fact, the believer only grows more aware of his need for the cross. As Martyn Lloyd-Jones once said:

“The true believer always feels the power of the Word and can always be convicted by it... there is something essentially wrong with a man who calls himself a Christian and who can listen to a truly evangelistic sermon without coming under conviction again, without feeling something of his own unworthiness, and rejoicing when he hears the Gospel remedy being presented.”4

So do not think the gospel is too old-fashioned to work. To the world, it is foolishness, but to those being saved, it is the power of God. Trust not in your own strength or ability, but in the power of God, who works through sermons—even those that are not all that good.

I leave you with these words from The Valley of Vision, which have encouraged me in times of weakness and, I hope, will encourage all who feel lacking in gifts:

'“When I am discouraged in my ministry and full of doubts of my self,

fasten me upon the rock of thy eternal election, then my hands will not hang down,

and I shall have hope for myself and others. Thou dost know thy people by name,

and wilt at the appointed season

lead them out of a natural to a gracious state by thy effectual calling.

This is the ground of my salvation, the object of my desire,

the motive of my ministry.

This is my ministry, my life, my prayer, my end. Grant me grace that I shall not fail.”

1 Luke 4:43

2 Rom. 10:14-17

3 Acts 6:1-4

4 Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1972), 150.