Gospel Witness
Have You Ever Witnessed About Your Faith Like My Neighbor Joe?
“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” (I Peter 3:15 NIV)
“God loves you, John, and He has a plan for your life.”
“Are you kidding? Who says there’s a God?”
“Oh, God exists,” my neighbor Joe continued. “You can be sure of that.”
We were standing in front of his house while he watered his lawn, talking about the reasons my life was out of control. Joe Steward and I were fellow wannabes in our early 30s who had moved to Hollywood years earlier to pursue our dreams in the movies, his as an actor from Illinois and mine as a screenwriter from Minnesota.
We had talked several times about our mutual aspirations, but that day he saw my distress and told me why my stalled career hopes had left me furious and riddled with despair.
“You’re miserable, John, because you’re not aware of His plan for you.”
“God has a plan for me?” I shrugged. “Let’s say you’re right, Joe. What do you suppose I should do about it?”
“Well, the sure way to know God and understand His purpose for you is to know Jesus.”
Perplexed, I was not ready to hear those words, let alone heed them. “Sorry, I’m not buying it.” But it turned out that our conversation became the hinge, the pivot that would transform my life three weeks later.
So let’s pause, gentle reader, and let me ask:
When was the last time you “gave the reason for the hope that you have” to a non-believer? Often Christians shy away from the role of evangelist, which some may consider aggressive and tone deaf. But every Christian is called to give witness to their faith at appropriate times.
The idea of approaching someone to “give your testimony” can make a Christian anxious and uncomfortable, but what do you do when someone who is desperate and confused approaches you for help and understanding and you discern it’s an opportunity to share the gospel?
Such was the case when Joe was watering his lawn that evening in 1977. He looked up, surprised to see me coming. As I drew closer, he noticed my foul mood and lowered the hose in his hand.
“Something’s wrong, John. You’re beside yourself. What is it?”
Enraged, I pointed to the huge H-O-L-L-Y-W-O-O-D sign on the hillside three miles away, visible through the palm trees lining the street, and burst into a tirade about “the vipers in Hollywood who kill deserving careers.”
I repeated details about my phone call just moments before from a prospective producer who praised the movie script I’d submitted to him — “I stayed late in the office to finish your fine story, John” — yet still rejected it. “Another in a long list of stupid rejections, Joe.”
Again he asked, “Do you know God loves you?”
Joe’s question stopped me cold. “God? What’s He got to do with it?”
“He has a plan for your life.”
“Really? A plan?”
Joe remained silent. I stared at him.
“What does any of that have to do with what’s going on with me?” I asked.
“If you knew God personally, John, you wouldn’t be going through so much turmoil.”
“Get serious, Joe. What do you mean personally? You’ve been jerked around by the same system that I have.”
“True. But I depend on the Lord.”
I looked straight into his eyes trying to fathom his drift. I drew a blank.
“You’re angry right now,” he said, “because things aren’t going your way. That’s pride.”
“Pride? I’m the least proud person in the world! I’ve got nothing to be proud of!”
“Pride is when our little plans don’t go the way we want and we get all bent out of shape about it.”
Bull’s-eye. The impact of his words hit me hard.
Joe added, “What He wants is for us to talk to Him about our problems.”
“Problems? Yes! The jerks who run Hollywood don’t know quality when it hits them in the face. Five years of hard, uphill work with nothing to show for it. That’s a long time waiting for a break.”
“God is waiting for you to turn to Him.”
I struggled to grasp his spiritual spin on my dilemma. How could Joe, a country boy from rural Illinois with a barrel chest and an untamed beard, understand me? “So who says there’s proof God even exists?”
“People of faith all through the ages, that’s who. God exists for us as plain as the nose on your face.”
I nearly gagged. “What’s your evidence, Joe? I see no reason for believing myths like that when so many unfair and evil things happen every day. I suppose you believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny too.”
Unfazed, he looked at me kindly and said, “Jesus is the sure way for anyone to have intimacy with God.”
I simply could not absorb what he was saying. Sarcastically, I pressed my point. “What about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny?”
“Look,” he pointed out, “you have a choice, John. The reason you’re frustrated is because you’re not following God’s plan for your life. You and He aren’t connected, it’s that simple.”
Deep down on some nonverbal level, I related to his words and felt stirred by his confident attitude. The authority behind them hit another bull’s-eye.
“For one thing,” I countered, “Christ died 2,000 years ago.”
“Absolutely right, John.”
“So how can you know Him today? You talk as though He’s alive.”
“He is.”
“Please, spare me.”
“He died 2,000 years ago, true, but He was raised from the dead three days later.”
“What! You actually believe that?”
He absorbed this last jab with a nod. His face remained calm. Like me, he knew the same frustration I endured professionally from his failed auditions, but here he was peaceful about it. It jarred me.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got your little crutch.” I turned and started walking away — still fuming, but puzzled.
A few feet later, just as I reached the curb, I stopped. “If what you say is true, Joe, what do you think I should do about it?”
“Have you ever read the Bible?
“Uh, not really. Sort of. A little, I guess.”
“When our little plans don’t go the way we want them to, odds are they’re not fitting into God’s plan. Thinking that our way is the only way is pride.”
That zapped me. I’d tried everything to find answers and meaning in life: hard work, the American dream, philosophy, astrology, alcohol, sex, drugs, but nothing had worked. The riddle remained unsolved. “OK, so . . .?” I asked.
“So read the Gospel of John.”
Something penetrated my mental armor. John, my own name. It stuck. It intrigued me. Was there a book somewhere with my name on the cover? “Why?” I asked Joe.
“The Gospel of John talks about why Christ came to save us from our pride. If you want to go one better, read Romans.”
“Why Romans?”
“John tells us why Christ came to us. Romans tells us why we need to come to Christ.”
I stood there, wordless. Could he somehow have a point? Joe kept watering his lawn, hose in hand, allowing me my space. I walked away, mulling over everything he had said, realizing vaguely that it was an angle I’d never investigated.
Joe’s witness made the difference
From that day on, my life swirled in a new spiritual realm — both earthly and heavenly realms at the same time. As I look back 44 years to that day, the power of Joe’s witness launched the pivot point of my life’s path because his words pried open my soul to surrendering to Jesus three weeks later.
That’s another story for another time, however, because the focus of today’s message is the power and manner of Joe’s witnessing. Consider:
1. It started spontaneously and stayed conversational.
2. He was ready, as the scripture at the top directs: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone.” (I Peter 3:15a NIV).
3. He remained unperturbed by my sarcasm, skepticism, disbelief, and mockery: “But do this with gentleness and respect.” (I Peter 3:15b NIV).
4. He allowed me space to evaluate his statements of faith without pressuring me for a decision.
5. His tone of respect recognized my dignity and autonomy; it sounded more like an invitation than arm-twisting.
6. His witness worked! Everything in my life until then was a “before” and everything following it was an “after” leading to the most profound and transformative change I’ve ever experienced.
I will forever be grateful to Joe Steward. I love how he patiently made the gospel clear and compelling — all while deflecting my cynicism and ridicule. Although he never became a movie star, for me Joe performed his greatest role as a disciple of Jesus who spoke the truth boldly to his unruly neighbor. In my eyes that made him a leading man.
