It Pays To Be A Fool For The Sake Of Christ
By Kirk Cameron

I was in a major airport recently, passing through security lines and handing out one million dollar hills (gospel tracts in disguise) to the hard-working employees and commending them on a job well done. While some smiled and some exclaimed, “I’m rich-I can go home now,” still others scowled avid knowingly checked the hill for some sort of hide den advertising message.

Because I was returning from an evangelism seminar, thoughts of the fate of the lost and of sharing the gospel with them were weighing fresh on my mind, I was eager to get the gospel into their hands any way T could so that some might consider it and begin to wrestle with the issues of eternity’, But T knew that the price for sharing my faith, either with my own month or through a striking piece of Christian literature, is sure to include ridicule and contempt. I don’t like being called or thought of as a religious wing ding, nor do I ever set out to act like one. However, some will inevitably view me and my actions with con tempt. But if I allowed my actions and decisions to be determined by what others think, then my life would be no different than theirs, and I would no longer he living for God, but for the approval of man.

So after handing out dozens of gospel tracts in the form of cash, IQ tests and movie flyers, T was refilling my tired body with a late from Starbucks. There, I generously tipped the barista and the airport employee beside me with more million dollar tracts. Examining the tract, the barista asked me, “You’re a Christian, aren’t you?” I said I was, and he asked if he could share a story with me.

We sat down and talked during his break before my plane departed. He explained how he had become a Christian many years ago, hilt through life’s circumstances had become discouraged about sharing his faith with others. He said, “You’re like a lion right now—young and full of life. But there will come a time when something will happen to you, and you’ll he injured, discouraged, and need someone to restore you. That’s what has happened to me.”

I was genuinely concerned about the things that were de pressing and discouraging this man, and I insisted that we must not let anything derail us from reaching the lost. Surely there is nothing that could ever happen to us in this life that could compare to the unspeakable horror of finding ourselves in “the lake that hums with fire and sulfur:’ Even the most legitimate earthly pains cannot he compared to the experience of being cast into “outer darkness, where there is weeping, and gnashing of teeth.”

As I wondered how I could encourage this man to trust God and share his faith boldly, a concerned security guard approached me with an apology, Earlier, when I had given him. a gospel tract, he had responded sharply. He explained that his job was stressful and that, unfortunately, he had shown a bad attitude toward me. I was shocked. It had been 45 minutes since 1 had given a tract to that man, and he was still holding it in his hand, thinking about it, allowing his conscience to move him to connect with me and apologize for an unkind attitude I hadn’t even noticed.

I stood up, thanked him for his integrity and tender conscience, and asked him if he often listened so carefully to the voice of his conscience. He said he tried, and began to speak freely right there in front of my other friend, the barista, who listened intently.

It was obvious from our conversation that this man was not a Christian, and since he had opened the door in humility, I gently asked him if he considered himself to be a good person. We talked about sin, God’s wrath, the Cross, repentance, and faith in Jesus I was feeling particularly hold that afternoon, and asked the security guard if I could pray for him and his family. So we prayed—right there in the airport. I left him with an e-mail address, he returned to work, my new Christian buddy was encouraged by the whole encounter, and I hoarded the big bird in the sky. I almost missed the flight!

As I was flying home, I thought of what a wonderful morning it had been. I was tired, I wanted to go home, and along the way I had surely disappointed some people with my “religions zeal” when I handed them a tract. I thought of how easy it would have been to go back to the old Kirk, ducking the crowds, wearing the sunglasses and the baseball hat, not taking the chance of being ridiculed by anyone.

But it was because of the recent change in my heart as a Christian—a sincere compassion for the lost and a desire to see them safely in the arms of the Savior—that I did what I did.

Actually, I didn’t do much, but God blessed my efforts, foolish as they may seem, and gave me the words to speak to people I didn’t even know, leading me to two men who needed to hear about the God who loved them enough to die so they could have eternal life.

It pays to be a fool for the sake of Christ.

This article “It Pays To Be A Fool For The Sake Of Christ” written by Kirk Cameron is excerpted from Christian Professional the Spring 2008 edition.