If you’ve flown recently, you have probably made the same observation I have: No one pays attention to the pre-flight safety videos. There may be the occasional uptick in interest after a well-publicized crash or near-disaster, but soon old habits return—people stuff their AirPods into their ears and stare at their phones rather than watch the briefings.
The airlines appear to have responded to this apathy by trying to make their videos eye-catching and clever. Air Canada no longer shows passengers on a plane but actors outdoors in a variety of Canadian locations. Lufthansa does something similar, though with more of an international feel. United follows some strange Rube Goldberg contraption across a bunch of green-screened locations. The videos are longer than ever and rather abstract. And as far as I can tell, people aren’t any more interested in them than their predecessors.
I can’t prove it, but I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that safety actually decreases as the length and abstractness of these videos increases. They may be clever and may have great production values, but my guess is that overall comprehension diminishes as the few key facts get obscured behind a mass of images and locations.
I had a fascinating experience recently. I invited a friend to church who is a committed follower of a different faith. “Come and learn how Christians worship,” I encouraged him. And he was glad to do so. The sermon that day was on the book of Romans and the wonder of being justified by grace through faith. The pastor could hardly have been clearer in his explanation of the gospel. My friend opened a Bible for the first time in his life, read along, and appeared to be listening with interest and attentiveness.
In the days that followed I asked him what he learned from the sermon. His answer was along these lines: “Your religion and mine are the same—be a good person, do good things, and God will reward you.” It surprised me that he could have listened so well but learned so little—that after 45 minutes of clear exposition, he got the message 100% wrong.
You’ve probably had experiences like this in your own life. You explain the gospel to someone and they just don’t get it. It seems like they can’t get it. You say “grace” and they hear “works.” You say “free” and they hear “earn.” You say “faith” and they hear “toil.” It can be frustrating. It can be discouraging. And it can cause us to wonder if we should change either the medium or the message (or maybe both).
You say “grace” and they hear “works.” You say “free” and they hear “earn.” You say “faith” and they hear “toil.”
Many Christians and many churches have essentially done what the airlines have done. Seeing that people are either not interested in the message or are not understanding it, they try to repackage it. They dress it up. Instead of delivering the plain truth, they deliver something that is attractive but opaque, something that is meant to catch eyes but actually leaves people further from actual comprehension. But that’s no solution, for the problem is not with the gospel but with the one hearing it.
As we share the good news with others, we all eventually witness the truth of 2 Corinthians 4:4: “The god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” They don’t see because they can’t see and they can’t see because God has not yet removed the veil that keeps them blind.
Our task is not to dress up the gospel and not to change the message to make it more attractive or palatable. Sure, we can express that same truth in fresh ways and speak in words appropriate to a specific listener. But we cannot change the message and must not fail to speak it. Our God-given task is to preach and plead—to continue to preach the truth lost men and women need to hear and to plead with God that he would do what only he can do—that he would remove the blinders from their eyes and give them eyes to see the wonders of his beauty.
