“Send.”
Another text. Out into the ether. Never to be seen again.
For laughs, I looked back at my “conversation” with Kevin.
I scrolled and scrolled. And scrolled. Not a single response.
It was honestly comical.
The whole thread was basically just me talking to myself. For two years, I sent Kevin almost 100 invitations (no joke) without a trace of acknowledgment. Not even one thumbs up.
I brushed it off and continued my weekly invitation ritual of texting students and inviting them to whatever party or hike my FOCUS team had going on that week. As a FOCUS missionary at the University of Colorado Boulder, it was my job to provide opportunities for students to encounter the Lord through community. Whether or not they took advantage of those opportunities was completely up to them.
Some students responded enthusiastically. Others reluctantly responded. Still others asked me to stop texting them outright.
And then there was Kevin and his radio silence. I wondered if he gave me a fake number or if I somehow typed it in wrong when I met him. Maybe he gave me the number to an ex-girlfriend as a twisted joke of some sort. I was probably texting some poor girl who was absolutely clueless about who I was.
Flash forward to last year when I pulled into the parking lot of Drogo’s, the Catholic Center at the University of Colorado Boulder. I was two years removed from being a FOCUS missionary, but I wanted to see how my friends were doing.
“Tanner! Hey! You’re Tanner, right?” A student came running up to me as I stepped out of my car. I didn’t recognize his face.
“Yessir! What’s up?”
“Dude! Wild. We met one time at a Welcome BBQ my freshman year, and you got my number there. I’m Kevin. You used to invite me to things every week.”
“No way! Kevin! Good to see you again.”
“Dude. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Yeah?”
“Totally. After a while, I started to ask myself why I ignored all of your invitations. Eventually, I just had to confront myself, so I went back to Mass after basically ditching it for years.”
“Woah.”
“Yeah, and when I was there, I met another FOCUS missionary who got my number. You guys are good at that. Things kind of snowballed from there, and I’ve been in his Bible study ever since.”
“Woah!”
“And now, the craziest part of all, my life has completely 180’ed, and I want everyone on this campus to experience that as well!”
“Dude! C’mon!”
Kevin’s words hung in the air. I was dumbfounded. The same guy who I was convinced gave me an ex-girlfriend’s phone number was now completely in love with Jesus. I gave him a hug before carrying on with my day.
It’s not every day that we have the good fortune of seeing the fruit from seeds we’ve scattered. The results of an invitation are oftentimes hidden or slow-burning. I knew this as I stood there in the Drogo’s parking lot, so I made sure to plant that interaction with Kevin like a flagpole in my memory. If I ever feel discouraged or like my invitations are going nowhere, I can always look back at that moment for reassurance.
As disciples of Jesus, we’re called to be imitators of Jesus and to do what he did. Yes, that means preaching the Kingdom, healing the sick, caring for the poor, suffering well, etc. But on a more immediate and practical level, that means extending invitations to people.
We imitate Jesus when we invite like Jesus.
Jesus did many miraculous things (which we should strive to do as well), but the core of his actions were simple invitations. He scattered invitations all around Israel, like the Sower who scatters seed over all types of terrain (see Matthew 13).
He invited people to share a meal with him. He invited people to see the world through a different lens. He invited people to pray. He invited people into a relationship.
As his followers, we’re called to do the same.
We’re called to invite people to share a meal with us. We’re called to invite people to have spiritual conversations with us. We’re called to invite people to go to Mass with us. We’re called to invite people into a relationship, both with ourselves and with Jesus.
And just like with Jesus, our invitations carry tremendous power. They allow people to choose what they otherwise wouldn’t think to choose.
Put another way, our invitations open the door for people to step closer to Christ. They plant seeds that can bear tremendous fruit over time.
This can be scary, I’ll admit. Invitations innately require a certain level of intentionality and vulnerability. With an invitation comes the inevitable risk of rejection.
However, a rejected invitation plants a seed that can still blossom. If we dare to invite, even our failures can still eventually lead someone closer to Jesus. The only thing that can’t grow is a seed not scattered.
The Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) each recount the story of a rich young man who went away sad after Jesus invited him to sell everything and follow him. Each of the Gospels leaves it at that — a rejected invitation. However, one tradition in the Church holds that this rich young man went on to become the Gospel writer Mark. This rejected invitation could be perceived as a failure by Jesus when, in actuality, it was one of the most influential moments in the history of the Church.
Invitations open doors even when the door seems to get slammed in your face.
Your invitations matter, regardless of their outcome. So, keep inviting.
Send them out.
