Using Everyday Language as a Missional Liturgy

In Genesis 41, Joseph is brought before Pharaoh to interpret his dreams.

Pharaoh exclaims to Joseph, “I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream, you can interpret it.” Responding, Joseph pointedly states, “It is not in me; God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer.” Strikingly, Joseph tells the so-called “god” that his God is the true interpreter of dreams and will be the one working through him to deliver Pharaoh a favorable answer.

Joseph could have simply stated something like, “Yep.” Rather, his response reveals how we can use our language as a missional liturgy.

Liturgy could be defined as a practice prescribed for public worship; therefore, language as a missional liturgy would be using our everyday language to point people to the lordship and kingship of Jesus.

Joseph wasn’t the only one who used language as a missional liturgy. Men and women throughout Scripture exercised their words, their everyday verbiage, as a missional liturgy.

Another example can be found in the New Testament. The proclamation that “Jesus is Lord,” particularly in a Roman governmental climate where Caesar was lord, is certainly an example of language as a missional liturgy. While the proclamation that “Jesus is Lord” still functions as a missional liturgy, it does not carry as much weight in the North American context, given that the linguistic use of “lord” carries little meaning. In fact, most people today, when they hear the term “lord,” probably think back to medieval times, when lords ruled the lands.

Although the language that Joseph (and others) used was counter-cultural, missional, and liturgical, it was still ordinary, common, and natural—language used in everyday, simple conversations.

This is something believers need to recover in order to be effective witnesses in today’s pluralistic, secular world. However, there are three major obstacles we must be aware of in order to employ language that is missionally liturgical.

First, we must be aware of our doxological assumptions. Doxological assumptions can either be that we assume the person we are talking to believes the same way we do, therefore we have no need to stress the importance and weight of God in our life; or we assume the person already knows how important God is to us, therefore we (again) have no need to stress it.

Second, we must be aware of the dichotomy that has developed between public facts and private values. Over time, our growing pluralistic and secular culture has privatized faith as a personal value—not a public fact (to read more about this, see Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society). As a result, it is easy to privatize our faith in God by omitting Him from our daily conversations and only invoking Him in prayer, church, and Bible study.

I think this obstacle will be the most difficult for many, because bringing the private things in our lives out into the public may be uncomfortable.

Third, we must be aware of how mechanical evangelism has become, reducing it to rehearsed presentations. There is a great need to reset ourselves to be natural, composed, and authentic. Personal evangelism is not a set of rehearsed propositions to deliver mechanically.

Please do not misunderstand; I am not against evangelistic training. However, I do believe teaching evangelism like a math class equips people either to learn something they will never use, or to memorize steps they mechanically regurgitate.

Personal evangelism is simply about bearing witness and personally proclaiming Jesus as Lord, God, King, and Savior.

In what ways can we use simple, everyday language as a missional liturgy, publicly pronouncing the lordship, headship, kingship, and glory of Christ in our lives?

As I close, here are two examples I hope will inspire your creativity:

When someone asks you, “How are you today?” your response can be something like, “Jesus has been so good to me,” “I am loved by the King,” or “I am graced.” Responding like this expresses that your condition is not based on how you feel or what has happened, but on your identity and position in King Jesus.

When someone asks you, “What do you do?” your response can be something like, “I serve Jesus as a barista at Starbucks,” or “Jesus has called me to be a teacher.” Responding like this expresses that your identity is not wrapped up in your vocation, but in the vocation Christ has called you to, or in how you use what you do in the service of King Jesus.

In closing, there is a great need for believers to have a paradigmatic shift in the way we use everyday language. If we can find natural ways to express the kingship of Jesus and His lordship over our lives in everyday conversations, then we will be able to use our language as a missional liturgy.