A couple of nights ago one of our Mozambican friends came over for dinner. He picked up the guitar in our main room and began to play a song in Shangaan. Abigail and Alyson sat on the floor and sang along (they know most of the words to Shangaan worship songs). It was a beautiful moment to observe.
And there is a something about this scene that is very missional to me. If the gospel is like music, too often we think that spreading the gospel is like having a concert. And of course, that is part of it. There is nothing wrong with packing a concert hall or stadium to “play our song” as Christians. Billy Graham and Jesus spoke the gospel to very large audiences with amazing effects. But there is something very different when a musician comes into your home and plays. It is intimate and raw. Even though the songs are the same, the music penetrates us differently.
The same is true of the gospel. When we tell the stories of our faith, when we talk to each other about the history of God’s people in our homes, when we talk about the resurrection on a car drive, or when we take communion together over dinner, we play our songs best.
By no means am I opposed to concerts. I am just a fan of “music” in the home as well.