Next Sunday we will complete a five-week study on apologetics in our Sunday School class. This past Friday we also concluded a five-week evangelistic Bible study through Philippians. Throughout those five weeks we invited friends and neighbors with one simple goal: to place people face to face with the gospel by opening God’s Word together.
None of those I personally invited came.
At first, that was discouraging. But as I reflected on it this week, my mind kept returning to the many Christians throughout history who also began small, seemingly insignificant ministries simply by faithfully showing up week after week.
Whether it was the Holy Club at Oxford, begun by Charles and John Wesley and later joined by George Whitefield, D. L. Moody ministering to neglected children in the streets of Chicago, Dietrich Bonhoeffer shaping disciples through life together in Nazi Germany, Francis and Edith Schaeffer welcoming skeptics into their home at L’Abri, or R. C. Sproul’s Ligonier Valley Study Center, the pattern is remarkably similar. Faithful Christians didn’t wait until they had the perfect building, the perfect budget, or the perfect ministry strategy. They simply went where people already were, welcomed them with genuine hospitality, opened the Scriptures, and trusted God to work.
The Holy Club gathered regularly for Scripture, prayer, accountability, and serving those around them. What looked ordinary became one of the sparks behind the evangelical revival of the eighteenth century.
D. L. Moody didn’t begin with a Bible institute. He began by gathering neglected children from the streets of Chicago. He believed Christians should go to people instead of waiting for people to come to church. Long before Moody Bible Institute existed, there were simple acts of compassion, Bible teaching, and faithful presence in the community.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminded the church that discipleship is formed in ordinary life. Shared meals, conversations, prayer, work, and Scripture shaped believers to follow Christ faithfully in a hostile culture.
Francis and Edith Schaeffer demonstrated something similar at L’Abri. They welcomed skeptics into their home, listened carefully to difficult questions, and patiently pointed people to Christ. Many visitors later testified that the conversations around the dinner table were just as significant as the formal lectures.
R. C. Sproul carried much of that same vision into the Ligonier Valley Study Center, where serious theology was combined with hospitality, conversation, and friendship. Ordinary believers discovered that deep theology was not reserved for seminarians—it belonged in the life of the church.
Different centuries. Different countries. Different personalities.
Yet the pattern remains strikingly similar.
These ministries were built on ordinary Christians intentionally making space for relationships where the gospel could be heard.
As I worked through these examples, I realized something. The gospel has never depended on buildings, budgets, or elaborate ministry models. It has always depended upon ordinary Christians who are willing to show up, love people, open the Scriptures, and trust God with the results.
If Christ is still the great Prophet who speaks through His Word, then our task is wonderfully simple: keep putting people in the place where they can hear His voice.
Lord willing, beginning this Friday evening, we’ll be at the Oakdale Skate Park with free hot dogs, cold lemonade, and a willingness to spend time talking with anyone who wants to stop by. No elaborate production. No hidden agenda. Just Christians making themselves available, building relationships, answering honest questions, opening the Bible, and inviting people to consider Jesus Christ.
Not everyone will stop to talk. Many will walk by without a second thought. But faithfulness has never been measured by immediate results. Throughout church history, God has often been pleased to use consistent, ordinary obedience far more than impressive ministry models.
As we conclude our five-week study on apologetics next Sunday, I hope this is the lesson we carry with us. The goal has never been simply to know more theology or become better at answering objections. The goal is to love our neighbors enough to actually engage them with the truth of the gospel.
Knowledge should move our feet.
If we truly believe the gospel is the power of God for salvation, then we should be willing to leave the classroom, step into our community, and lovingly speak to people about Christ.
Please pray that the Lord would bless this small beginning. And if you’re nearby on a Friday evening, I’d love for you to join us. You don’t need to be an expert in apologetics, and you certainly don’t need to have every answer. You simply need to love Christ, love your neighbor, and be willing to show up.
Perhaps that’s how more gospel movements begin than we realize.
