As I reflect on the Christians who have impressed and inspired me most, I find that actions have spoken much louder than words. Motivated by love of God and desire to model Christ, the words they spoke were seldom appeals to “accept Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior.” It was their actions, behaviors, and decisions that reflected the highest Christian values and aspirations. They didn’t talk their faith; they lived their faith.

When I was still young and impressionable, a teacher-friend of mine, Andy, (he once introduced me as his “former friend and student”) moved into my neighborhood and he raised the bar considerably in the realm of “put your money where your mouth is.” In the summer he would grab me to traipse through our block looking for houses that needed yard work, painting, repair, then we would offer to do whatever was needed at no charge. Winters we pushed stuck cars out of snowdrifts and shoveled walks and plowed driveways. Autumn we raked, spring we planted and cleaned – all wherever there was need, never accepting payment (even when paint and tools came from personal pockets). Andy, a Quaker, told me once, and only once, that he simply did for people what he would like to be able to do for God.

Hazel was a happy, friendly spinster lady who had no children of her own, so she adopted everyone else’s children as nieces, nephews, cousins, grandkids, and step-kids. Her home was filled with stuffed animals and she generally had cartoons playing in the background on her television. Hazel was also know in the community as “the Muffin Lady.” Two or three times each week Hazel would bake dozens of muffins, take them still warm into the town, set up a card table outside the low-income welfare hotel, and give anyone and everyone who wanted one a fresh muffin. No charge. No expectation of return. She happily told people that loaves and fishes were beyond her, but muffins were great because no matter how many you gave away, you could always make more! Her motivation, she said, was to share the blessings she received from God and to make life just a tiny bit sweeter.

Mona was a member of a wealthy and powerful family. When she was in her early sixties she finally moved out on her own, saying she was a little ashamed of the way her family had made its money, and after committing her life to Christ, determined that she would find ways to use family money for the common good. She got an upstairs apartment across the street from the Unemployment Office in town and she noted that people would begin lining up on the sidewalk around 6:30 each morning though the office didn’t open until 9:00. So, she started making coffee, bought some orange juice and donuts, and began offering same to those standing in line. Over time the property next to the Unemployment Office came up to sale, so Mona bought it and set up a coffee shop on a donations-only basis. She hired a handful of people, most with some form of physical or cognitive disability, and gave people a warm, safe, and dry place to wait while enjoying a light breakfast. She decorated with space with inspirational sayings. Mona always said that she had no choice; once Christ came into her life she simply had to do for others.

Carl was a mountain of a man. Standing about 6’10” at 300 lbs. with a booming baritone voice, a Bluto-esque (a reference to Popeye’s nemesis, indicating how old I am…) beard, and a dazzling smile, Carl would invite people out to lunch and talk about anything they wanted to talk about. But at the end of each meal, Carl would give those willing a Bible, telling them how it had changed his life, and asking them if they would do him the favor of reading the Gospel of Luke. He would also offer to pick them up the coming Sunday and take them to church with him. Rarely did Carl show up on a Sunday without a few folks in tow. Over the years Carl brought unhoused individuals as well as high-priced lawyers, third-grade teachers and ex-convicts, drug addicts and doctors, unwed mothers and local politicians. He told me that he gave away about 300 bibles a year.

None of these people forced their faith on anyone. None of these people debated theology or argued scripture. None of these people judged others; they simply sought to serve – to sow the seeds of Christian virtue as it were. They didn’t have to convince anyone of anything; they simply let the light of Christ shine out through their lives.

As I view the “angry Christian rhetoric” (what a sad contradiction in terminology as well as ethic) I grow weary and depressed. Our faith is a gift, not a weapon. Life in Christ is not a talking point, a judgment, or a competition. We offer Christ in whatever form Christ manifests in us through the Holy Spirit. Should we talk about our faith? Certainly, but as the grace and blessing it is to us, not as a product we are obligated to push and sell.

We are the body of Christ. People should be able to note subtle but significant differences in us before we ever open our mouths. Evangelism as we understand it, is a relatively recent phenomenon. Without publishing, broadcasting, social media, digital recording, or public speaking skills and props, Christian witness depends/depended on “the outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual graces.” Evangelism is not dependent on what we say and how we say it, but on what we do as we discern and do the will of God.