The Gospel's Got You Covered

Geico had a commercial over the Christmas season. A guy standing on a ladder putting up lights on his house yells to the guy across the street standing on a ladder putting up lights. "Hey," he says, "Geico gave me a great deal on insurance." The Geico fan keeps up the conversation while the other fellow seems a bit unhappy with a shouted conversation about insurance, but every time the Geico fan yells something new, his house is more and more lit until you can see it from space. "Geico's got you covered!" That's the theme.

Why is that? Why is it that a (fictional) character in a commercial for insurance will shout at the top of his lungs the good news about his insurance and we, possessing the best of all possible news keep pretty quiet about it? If our willingness to noise about our good news of Christ is any indication, if we had that Geico insurance I'm sure we wouldn't yell at our neighbors about it. It might inconvenience them. They might not want to hear it. Look, they're kind of busy and, well, they've likely seen the commercial anyway, right? Or, in terms of the Gospel, we are pretty sure it won't be given a warm reception and they've probably heard it and, really, how important can it be? The question comes down to "Just how good is our good news?" To hear us talk about it, it doesn't seem that good.

Isn't that sad? Christ shrouded the glory that is God and put on flesh. He came to Earth, lived as a human being, ministered and suffered for people that rejected Him, and died the most humiliating death available, and we're not particularly moved by it. I mean, what if they don't like us? What if they're mean to us? Look, we have some good shows to watch and some serious internet to search. We don't say it, but there is certainly a feel at the back of our heads that says, "Look, if God wants to save 'em, He can do it." And what we declare to the world around us is "Sure, we've got some good news, but it's not that good. Certainly not as good as, say, Geico's rates."

You think I'm pointing fingers and, full disclosure, I'm not. I talked recently with some missionaries that have gone to places I can't name and been forceably and violently removed and long to get back because "Those people need Jesus and no one else is telling them." I've talked with people who have risked their lives and read about others who have given their lives for the sake of the Gospel, and it's convicting. It's convicting because, in the words of a 1978 song, Jesus rose from the grave and I can't even get out of bed. It's not you I'm pointing at; it's me. It's just that I suspect I'm not the only one that apparently doesn't know how good our good news is, who isn't grateful enough and awed enough and excited enough about my Lord to shout across the street at a neighbor with some helpful tips on where to find life.

In the commercial, the neighbor says, "Geico's got you covered" and the exuberant Geico fan response, "Like a blanket." That doesn't even begin to express what Christ has done for me and what He can do for others, and I'm stunned by my own prevalent silence. The Gospel does have me covered. How can I keep that to myself? Why am I not being a pest to everyone around me that needs the Jesus I know? Maybe that's something I should change this year.