I’ve been flying a lot lately and noticed something I never paid attention to before. No, it’s not about the safety features. I’ve accepted that the unlikely event of a water landing means we’re crashing, and if I have to blow through a tube to inflate a flimsy-looking vest, I’m doomed. C'est la vie.

What’s caught my attention is that most of the planes I’ve flown on have 175 seats, also known as literature racks. Seriously, the seatback pockets often have a “Literature only” label on them. That’s basically an invitation for literature evangelism. I can’t fill them all, but I can share a few books and magazines in the racks near me.

Witness while you wink

On my last flight, I put a copy of Words of Hope (a condensed version of Christ’s Object Lessons) in the “literature rack” to my left. I positioned it so a passenger would see the title when letting down their tray table. Like many leisure fishermen, I got comfortable after casting my line and prepared to have a snack and take a nap while waiting for the “fish” to bite.

A Catholic man sat beside me, made the sign of the cross as the plane started up the runway, and prayed the rosary as we took off. I said a silent prayer as well. The higher the plane rose, the heavier my eyelids got. I cracked them open briefly as the flight attendants started offering drinks. 

When the snacks and drinks arrived, my neighbor let down his tray table, saw the previously concealed Words of Hope, took it out, and started reading. I started nodding, partly out of satisfaction, but mostly due to drowsiness. When I woke again, the man had put the book in the side pocket of his carry-on to take with him. 

God worked with my (little bit of) willingness

Why didn’t I make any small talk on this occasion? Quite honestly, I was just tired. I had been flying and driving and flying some more. I had been filling my waking hours with in-person meetings, texts, emails, voice and video calls – and trying to stuff some reading and presentation preparation into my leftover margins of consciousness. It was time for a break.

And you know what I learned from that? God still keeps His promise that His word won’t return unto Him void. Neither God nor my brother in Christ were dependent upon me being an ordained minister, a student of theology, a fast or smooth talker, or a salesperson. All they needed was for me to exercise a minimal level of willingness to share, so my seatmate could have a closer walk with Jesus. 

While some might argue that I should have offered the man Bible studies, I would simply say, “the book is a Bible study.” Words of Hope unpacks the meaning of the 10 parables of Jesus and provides life application for them. Isn’t that what a Bible study is supposed to do? That’s what seemed to be happening right next to me. 

The Word works

The Holy Spirit spoke to my fellow flyer through the cover and content of that book while I quietly stayed out of their conversation. Literature evangelists often refer to our books, magazines, and tracts as silent witnesses, and this was a case in point. 

Sometimes we might not feel like we have the right words to witness. Sometimes we might be in circumstances where we think witnessing will be awkward or offensive. Sometimes we might avoid a witnessing opportunity because we don’t feel like the best version of ourselves. Sometimes it’s OK to do in-flight outreach by simply giving the Holy Spirit something to work with while we rest. 

~Carl McRoy is the North American Division's director of literature ministries