On Making Converts

I titled this post On Making Converts. A more accurate title might be Why Making Converts is not the Point.

My wife is a nurse. If you have ever been a patient in a hospital then you know how important nurses are. They often posses certain qualities that can make or break your hospital stay. Recently I spent four days in Abbot Northwestern's new heart hospital--for a head injury. I grew very attached to my nurses.

They helped me pee. They washed me. They gave me pain medications. They walked me. They listened to me. They made sure that doctors paid attention to me. They would smile at me. They bandaged my arm. They cleaned my bloody ear. In short, they made me feel really good. They made me feel like I had an advocate, a voice, and a special place in a really large hospital. They took time for me even though they had a thousand other things to be doing.

Needless to say, when you are depending on a nurse for all of these things it is easy to get attached to them. Every shift change I would eagerly wait to see who my next advocate and companion would be. I would wonder: is she going to be nice? is she going to like me? will she make me feel good? is she cute? The last thing that you want in a hospital is to feel like you don't belong there--like you are a waste of somebody's time.

My wife had a patient who had grown pretty attached to her. In fact her whole family was attached to their nurse. This patient was dying. It was with that realization that my wife discovered how she also was really attached to this women. My wife had rarely seen a family with such gentleness, such sweetness and such love for one another.

As the family was making their final preparations my wife asked if they would like to see a Chaplain. A family member of the dying woman quickly responded by saying, No. They have never been religious and she has no need for God. My wife was heartbroken (as anyone who believes in the possibilities of rich relationships with God would be). It was already hard enough for her to say good-bye to such a sweet woman.

As my wife's shift was about to end each of the family members wanted a hug from their favorite nurse. Finally the patient asked if she wasn't going to get a hug too. Her nurse walked over to the outstretched arms to say good-bye...to say I love you...and to kiss her cheek. The patient also expressed her love to the nurse she had come to know as "cold hands." She died soon after.

Often times my wife gets to pray with her patients or to let them know of her care by saying little things to remind them of God's love. This time she chose not to even offer a "God bless you." She felt like that would have been disrespectful and unloving. It was important to honor this patient as she was dying--even, if not especially, her choice to not know God. It is only then that my wife could truly be with her patient as she died.

Sometimes, as Christians, we are never truly with our friends. For many Evangelicals, relationships with those who do not believe are contrived so that they may know God. What happens when knowing God is not desired by our friends? Is there room for respect in our love? Or do we love only to make converts?

I have been with Christians (and I once may have been one myself) who are so focused on helping others know God that they overlook the good that is in their friend regardless of whether they ever choose to know God. Does the gospel of God's kingdom have relevance apart from making converts or giving people the 'right' answers? What might that be?

If only we, as Christians, could answer that question we might be in a better place to enter into dialogue with our society. We may even be in a better place to find the goodness of God in our friends, in our art, in our culture and in the love of a dying patient.