Episode 158: I Was Blind and Now I See | +Quigg Lawrence

We are in week two. Our series is called "Isn't that a cute little man on the screen?" We could have had a graphic artist, but I was at my deer stand yesterday and I'm like, I want my grandkid up there. Look at him waving to the nice people. He wants to tell them about Jesus. That's what I'm thinking he's probably doing, or get chocolate.

The Bible says in Psalm 107:

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so. Don't keep secret the mercy God has shown you.

Here's another verse, 1 Peter 3:15:

Always be prepared to give a reason for the hope that lies within you.

You don't have to make stuff up, but you just have to tell what's true. Isn't that freeing to know you don't have to be Tim Keller, you don't have to be John Piper, you don't have to be the Bible Project, you don't have to be C.S. Lewis, you don't have to be Tim Henderson—though we're grateful for all those people. You just have to be you. Give a reason for the hope that lies within you.

My Story

Now, I had a friend. For those of you who've been here twenty-five years, sorry you've heard this story twenty-five times, but it's my story. I was lost, lost as you can possibly be. No desire for Jesus or the church. I found it incredibly boring.

I remember it was 12/21/1979. I was at a debutante party in Richmond, and I see somebody across the room and think, "Gosh, that guy looks really familiar." Have you ever seen somebody—maybe they've lost fifty pounds or something's changed about them—and you kind of recognize them, but you're not really sure?

Finally, it dawns on me: "Oh my gosh, that's my good friend, Mo Gill, my surfing buddy." Now, of course, I was confused because in the summer he had bleach blonde hair, kind of like Johnny Winter or Edgar Winter—long blonde hair, really tan. He was in Virginia Beach. But now we're in Richmond, short hair, turned brown, and he just looked different.

I understand Christians don't look a particular way because they're happy all the time. There's no look for a Christian, but this kid looked like something had changed him. Maybe rebellion, maybe bitterness, maybe selfishness. God had done something in him.

He comes up to me and exchanges pleasantries. Then very quickly he goes, "How are you?" I'm like, "I'm good, man. I'm fine." He goes, "I became a Christian."

Now, this is the weirdest thing that anybody would ever say at a debutante party. I'm like, "Well, yeah, Mo, of course you're a Christian. You're not a Buddhist. You're not a Muslim. You're not a Hindu. Of course you are. You're an Episcopalian by God. Case closed."

But he didn't take that answer. He said, "No, not like that. I actually met Christ personally."

I'm like, "What? Did they get to you? Those weird religious people."

He said, "Quigg, about three months ago, I accepted Christ as my savior. I'm happy. I'm so happy."

What he couldn't possibly have known is that as much as I had a smile on, I was miserable. And Mo, instead of going on and on and on, he just said, "Quigg, I want you to have the same happiness that I have. I want you to know Christ." And he stopped.

No Romans Road, no Genesis through Revelation. He said, "I'm happy, and I want you to be. I want you to know Christ." He went out to his car and got me a copy of Basic Christianity. It was a book I read and wrestled with for six weeks before I finally said, "Uncle, I'm all in, God. I'm all in."

The crazy thing about that is two things. One, how long had Mo been a Christian? Because the last time I saw Mo, he was actually being taken out of a bar in Virginia Beach—a bar we know well called Chichos. They'd have all the lifeguards come, I think every Thursday. It was kind of a dull night for them, so they'd give us a keg of beer and said, "You drink it fast enough, we'll give you a second one." For regular customers, it was a shot in a glass and a shot in a beer for a dollar. So you can imagine people were not well behaved at Chichos.

I see my buddy, Mo Gill. This is before. He's being carried out by two Virginia Beach policemen, long hair, and he was giving them a middle finger salute. That's the last time I saw Mo.

Now we're in a different city. His hair's darker, it's short, and some of that stuff had been sucked out of him, and he's telling me about Jesus.

My question is: By what authority does a guy who's known Christ for three months tell anybody about Jesus? He couldn't help it. He had found forgiveness. He'd found mercy. He'd found life. And he loved me enough to risk it—at a debutante party—to come across and say, "I'm happy. I've met Christ. I want you to."

Did we show the little video? We got a video. Don't judge this. In my head, I was like, "Okay. I'm going to accept Christ in front of everybody right now."

Then I'm gonna go home and snort drugs until I don't wanna do them anymore. And that was my way of thinking. So I received Christ at the church. I went home, neglected my daughter and put her in front of the TV. I remember I grabbed a $100 bill. I always used a $100 bill for some reason, pride or something. I chopped up my crystal meth, got it all smooth and powdery, and I snorted a big old line. And I held the bill, I looked up, and I said, Jesus, if you're real like that pastor said, then you gotta take these drugs from me. Come into my life. Come into my heart. And I just got quiet. I said, search me right now. Search my heart. And I stayed silent. And I said, you know I wanna quit. You know I wanna be a good dad for this kid. She lost her mother to drugs, and she's gonna lose me if I don't quit.

Father, I felt so much fatherly love from heaven, and it was like, I don't condemn you. I love you. I love you. It was just love, love. And instantly, that love from God came into me. It was so powerful that the next day, I threw away all my drugs, and I quit. I was like, I'm quitting, and I'm gonna raise my kid because I got the blood from God coming to me, and then it came out of me to my kid. It changed me. My heart was changed like that. And I was like, "Janea, daddy's gonna be home with you all the time. I'm quitting my career." And her face lit up, and she's like, "For me?" You know, she felt so special. And God used her to save me, to save her life later on.

You know what the sick part is? When I first saw that video, I'm like, what a freak. Like, what's wrong with that guy? Look at all his tats. Look at his weird hair. What does a Christian look like? Brian Welch is a Christian. He loves Jesus, and he's unashamed to tell you because he wants you not to be in the grasp of the evil one. Let me tell you, what you're seeing there is somebody who was in the hands of Satan, and he had adulation. He said, you don't know what it's like to stand in front of 50 or 60,000 people, and they all think you're the guitar god, and they worship you. And he had the money and all the drugs. He had everything, but he was miserable. His wife or girlfriend, mother of his child died of drugs. And he said he stood under a fountain of God's mercy. And he said, that's what I've been searching for my entire life.

If that dude has the courage to share his faith, my question is, what about us? What about us?

The Great Commission

We know the great commission, don't we? You know the commands. Like, here it is from Matthew 28. It's actually in all four gospels.

Jesus said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations. Baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Teach them to observe everything I have commanded you, and lo, I am with you always to the end of the age." — Matthew 28

That's pretty important. It's like some of the last words Jesus said to his followers. So there's no problem with clarity, is there? Is that pretty clear to you? Go therefore. All authority has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations. Make learners. Make people who are going to follow Jesus. Baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, teaching them. He doesn't just want people getting saved. He wants to teach them to obey everything I've commanded you. Lo, I am with you always to the end of the age.

So what's the problem? What's the disconnect? Personally, I think God is getting ripped off. I think he gets very little bang for his buck. If you took all the billions of dollars that we spend on churches and programs and organs and cool things and Sunday schools and VBSs and all that, I don't see many of us even sharing the basic hope that lies within us. We've received mercy, but it's like we're hoarding it.

The question is why? Well, somebody could say, "The reason I don't share the hope that lies within me is because I didn't know there was a command." Oh, please. It's in all four gospels. So we can't really use that excuse that we're unaware of the command. You've heard it today. If nothing else, you've heard it. There's a command. Go make disciples.

Why else might we not do what the Lord commanded us? Well, maybe we're afraid that we're not qualified. Hey, man. I got seven years of seminary. I took Hebrew. I took Greek, and you put me down with somebody who's really smart and unsaved and I start getting the jitters because I think maybe he or she is smarter than me, and they're going to ask a question I don't know. So I'll just wait until they ask me something easy. I'll let Tim do it. I'll let John Piper do it. I'll let C.S. Lewis. I'll let the Bible Project do it. I'll let somebody else do it. Because even after seven years of seminary, does this clarify some things? It's not the number of years. Mo Gill had known Christ for three months. Some of us are unaware of the command.

Some are fearful. Number three, some of us really just don't love our friends. That's what it boils down to. It's like a selfishness. We just, bottom line, do not love our friends. Because if we loved them, we would at least share the hope that we have in Christ, the mercy we've received. Related to that is maybe we're just lazy. I don't want to do it because I don't want to do it. We're just lazy. But I think the fifth reason may be the main reason. We're just afraid we're going to lose our friend. We're afraid that if we share what the Lord has done in us, the cleansing, the mercy, personal relationship, that they're going to think we're a freak like I began to think Mo Gill was a freak.

I want to help you overcome your fear. I want to help you overcome your fear because you probably like me think I have to be smarter and I have to have just this brilliant apologetic. And then when I figure all that out, then I'll be qualified to share the hope that lies within me. But here I am 62 years old. I've been a Christian for forty-one years. But that day is really coming, Lord, where I'm really going to share my faith. Mo Gill had been a Christian three months. He knew nothing except the hope that he had in Christ.

So today, I want to unburden you. You do not have to be Tim Keller. You do not have to be C.S. Lewis. You don't have to be John Piper. You don't have to be a seminary professor. You don't have to be the Bible project because you're not, and you can't. But guess what? Those guys have led some people to Christ. They've taught a lot of people, but they are never going to reach your friends. They won't. They don't have relationship with your friends. They haven't earned the right. Only you, of all the people on the planet, for all the people who've ever been born and inhabited this planet, you are the messenger that God has appointed to talk to your friends. Take a deep breath. There's no pressure. You can't convert anybody. You can't give faith to someone. Try it. You might as well talk to the wall. But God can use you. He can use even a donkey to speak the truth. Tell your story.

See, I think the devil very quietly and deviously whispers, "Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are? You think you're going to share faith with somebody?" The devil says, "I could name every one of your sins right now. I could shame you. Get back in your corner, boy. Shut up." See, the devil's whispering this because he knows Christ has appointed us to be bearers of good tidings, to be ambassadors. Or there's another lie. Not only does Satan whisper, "You're not qualified. Nobody's going to listen to you." The other lie is this, and I've actually preached this and I'm embarrassed to say it. "Preach the gospel at all times, and when absolutely necessary, use words." Doesn't that sound so spiritual? "Preach the gospel at all times and when absolutely necessary. Oh, if it comes to that, use words." Yeah, see, that sounds so polite, so patient, so non-religious, so approachable. But what happens is as church people, we always think, "There is a truth, right? People when they see your good deeds, they give glory to your father in heaven. Right? You're a light on a hill." But friends, there's a time where we have to use words. They don't have to be John Piper words, but we have to use your words and my words.

How then can they call on one whom they've not believed? How can your family, your friends that don't know Christ, how can they call on somebody that they haven't believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they're sent? As it's written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news? — Romans 10

Friends, there is a time to speak. As a church, we need to realize we don't need to yell at people. We don't need to be an apologist. We have to give a reason for the hope that lies within us. We just have to tell the truth. So unburden yourself of the heavy lifting. Recognize that the Holy Spirit will do the work if you simply put your big toe into the circle. If you simply step forward in love and say, "I don't know much, but I used to be blind, and now I see." Don't embellish, just tell the truth.

Now let's look in scripture. Do you have your Bible or a Bible app? We're in John 1. I'm going to give you two biblical examples. John 1, verse 35. It says:

The next day, again, John was standing with two of his disciples. He looked at Jesus as he walked by, and he said, "Behold, the lamb of God." — John 1:35-36

The two disciples heard John the Baptist say this, and they followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following, and he said to them, "Who are you seeking?" And they said, "Rabbi, which means teacher, where are you staying?" And he said, "Come and you will see." So they came to see where Jesus was staying, and they stayed with him that day for it was the tenth hour.

And then one of the two who heard John the Baptist speak and followed Jesus was Andrew, Simon Peter's brother. One of the two who heard this good news about the lamb of God was a man named Andrew.

He, Andrew, first found his own brother, Simon, and said to his brother, "We have found the Messiah," which means the Christ. And he brought his brother to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, "So you're Simon, the son of John. You shall be called Cephas," which means Peter. — John 1:41-42

Andrew was a fisherman, probably smelled like a fish, probably did not speak the queen's English, might have had a couple of rough words in there. All he knew is that he had met Christ. He had met the king of kings and the Lord of Lords, and he loved his brother. Even though they probably had fist fights, he loved his brother enough to say, "Jesus, I want you to know him." That's the first thing he did. He didn't wait till the time was right. He didn't wait till he had his theology mapped out perfectly. He just knew that he had a joy and a reality that he wanted his brother to know.

The Man Born Blind

Now I want you to go to another story—the man born blind. This is a great one. Go to John 9, beginning at verse 24.

For the second time, they called the man who had been blind and they said to him, "Give glory to God. We know this man, Jesus, is a sinner." And the blind man answered, "Well, whether Jesus is a sinner or not, I don't know. One thing I do know was that I was blind, and now I can see." — John 9:24-25

He ain't Tim Keller, y'all. He's just telling his truth. You know what social media is like—just tell your truth. A lot of times, just telling your truth is just telling your lie. Sometimes I think the church needs to start telling our truth. We can tell what is true. What has Christ done? If you are a follower of Jesus, or maybe not even a good follower of Jesus, he's done something in your life.

"Whether he's a sinner or not, I don't know. The one thing I know is I was blind. Now I see." And they said to him, "What did he do to you? How did Jesus open your eyes?" The blind man answered, "I have told you already and you would not listen. Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become one of his disciples?" — John 9:25-27

I love this. The guy is not afraid at all. He's bold, and he's trying to convert them, just like Paul before King Agrippa.

The man answered, "This is an amazing thing. You do not know where Jesus comes from, yet he opened my eyes? Are you kidding me? We know that God does not listen to sinners but anyone who's a worshiper of God and does his will, God listens to him. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he couldn't do nothing." And they answered him, "You were born in utter sin. Would you instruct us?" And they cast him out. — John 9:30-34

The blind man was unafraid. He says, "I used to be here, and now I'm not. I used to be there but now I'm here. I used to be buried under my sin. Now I know forgiveness. I know mercy. I used to be blind, but now I see."

How Did You Come to Faith?

Just interested—how did you come to faith? If you came to faith watching a TV show, a televangelist, raise your hand. Yeah, same as the other ten times I did this. If you came to faith because you listened to some brilliant guy who kind of argued you into the Christian faith, like Ravi Zacharias or Piper or one of these brilliant people, even CS Lewis—if you came because you read their book and came to Christ, maybe that's possible. Raise your hand. Well, I don't see any.

Well, then how did you come to faith? Did you just wake up and get smart one day? I'm guessing for ninety-five percent of you, there was somebody in your life. It could have been your mom or your dad. It could have been your grandmom. It could have been a scoutmaster. It could have been an orderly in the hospital. Somebody loved you enough—not to out argue, but just to tell you the truth. Just to tell you what they know to be true, that they once were blind and now they see.

Friend, you can live the rest of your Christian life promising God that one day—really, really, really, really—I'm going to get out of the boat, and I'm going to start speaking of your kindness and goodness.

How many decades will go by before we finally get the courage? I want to unburden you of thinking you have the power to out argue somebody or bring anybody to faith. You can't. But what I will tell you this: if you will just tell the truth, tell what the Lord has done, don't embellish it. God will use you just like he used Mo Gill and that tatted fellow who used to play in corn. I think he's now back in the band.

Oh, what do you mean? He's back in the band. That's a heavy metal band. He said, "Yeah, you know, I took five years. Just like Saint Paul had to go away. I took five years and I got strong in my faith. I studied God's word and then I reestablished relationship with my bandmates. And he says, I don't do drugs anymore. I don't do any of that stuff anymore because I've experienced the love of the father."

Maybe one day, your friend will say the same thing. Amen.