Seeing is believing. So do whatever you can to open your eyes. Beware of stubbornly keeping them shut, or even squinted, out of preconceived notions or hand-me-down realities. We all have a weakness for confirmation bias. But there’s nothing quite as thrilling as seeing something that you’ve never seen before, and perhaps never even dreamt was possible.

Hearing is also believing. So do whatever you can to keep your ears wide open. Beware of keeping your world so full and noisy that you can’t hear the quietly important things. Our world is noisy enough on its own. It can be a little unnerving at first, but it’s amazing what can be heard in the silence.

Is a dangerous one. Yet it’s one of the most enticing for religious folk. It’s dangerous because our criteria for who is in and who is out can be easily based more on our own values than on God’s values. Whether it’s out of superiority or fear or anxiety or whatever, we can quickly push out those who have every right to be in as we do.

Those who are thrown out, Jesus seeks and finds.

Those who are rejected, Jesus welcomes and accepts.

Those who are denigrated, Jesus honors.

It’s easy to ignore both logic and signs.

The Pharisees were given a sign that Jesus was sent from God: He miraculously healed a man blind from birth. But they persisted in refusing to believe that he was the same man. They refused to believe the townsfolk, They refused to believe the formerly blind man. They refused to believe his parents.

The Pharisees were also given sound logic that Jesus was sent from God: God only listens to holy people. Such a dramatic healing is unprecedented. Ergo, Jesus must be from God. But they refused this simple logic on the grounds that the blind man himself was “steeped in sin at birth.” Kicking him out for lecturing them.

Saying “yes” to one thing requires saying “no” to something else. We are finite creatures. The answer cannot always be “yes” to everything or everyone. Trying to say yes is gluttony and will ultimately lead to some debilitating manifestation of unhealthiness.

This is foundational to Christian discipleship to Jesus: In order to say “yes” to following Jesus, I must say “no” to following anyone else. Every day. Multiple times a day. Carefully taking note of all the subtle, unconscious ways we take our cues from a myriad of other sources rather than him.

There’s an inevitable question. If someone keeps circling around Jesus and asking questions for long enough, a decision will have to be made. Jesus has a magnetism all his own that, once someone gets close enough, will either pull them in or push them away.

The question will not be, “So what is your assessment of Jesus?”

Not, “Are you interested in trying to abide by his teachings?”

Not, “Will you worship Jesus as God?”

Not, “Do you believe that Jesus died on the cross and then rose again?”

Not even, “Are you willing to accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior.”

We have over-complicated evangelism. At least in the streams I’ve been a part of, all the programs and tactics and bells and whistles make me feel more like a salesman for Jesus rather than a witness of Jesus. Maybe some of them are fine. If the moment calls for a certain approach, I suppose you ought to take it.

Mostly I think it’s this simple:

STEP 1) Give people a reason to ask you about Jesus.

Don’t chase them down or knock on their door or try to bribe them into listening to you. You don’t need to manufacture opportunities. Live your life well; trust the Spirit to draw people. Wait for them to ask why you are the way you are.

Is just as powerful as any other peer pressure. Remaining a part of the in-crowd can be fragile, especially if those in power have drawn a hard line in the sand on an issue.

Which is why I have some compassion for the parents of the blind man who could now see. They’re willing to admit knowledge of just enough to both acknowledge their son, but also to stay in the good graces of the synagogue leaders.

“We know he is our son.”

“We know he was born blind.”

“But how he can see, or who opened his eyes, we don’t know.”

Yes. Yes. Shoulder shrug.

The thing is, they knew. They were simply afraid to admit that Jesus was responsible. Why? Because they still wanted to go to church.

The rationale for faith that works for one person may not work for someone else.

The evidence that convinces one person to believe may not be as strong to someone else.

One person’s pace in believing may be faster or slower than someone else.

The witness one person deems credible someone else may be hesitant to accept.

What one person sees as super obvious may be obscure to someone else.

I have a small handful of personal reasons to continue following Jesus after nearly 30 years. One of the more compelling reasons is this: People just can’t stop disagreeing about him. About who he was. About what he did. About the why behind it all. About what any of it means or doesn’t mean. Honestly, if there’s someone creating this much chatter and this much heat for this long, I just want to hang around him.

Discussion and disagreement about Jesus have been going on since he walked on the earth. Which makes me think that maybe that’s all part of the plan: Keep people talking. Jesus himself left so many questions unanswered, so many things ambiguous, that I just have to believe that it was at least a little intentional.

If you start to feel like you’re repeating yourself when explaining your encounter with God, that’s ok.

We humans learn by repetition. The more you repeat your story, the deeper the Spirit’s work will go into your spirit. And the more often others hear it, the more likely they are to believe it and begin to desire such an experience for themselves.

Repetition also comes out of love. It’s why we have reruns. It’s why we create playlists and highlight reels. It’s why we re-read books or poems. Some things are simply worth enjoying all over again.