A Soul‑Winner

Mark 16:15; Proverbs 11:30

Introduction: God’s Priority One

Every person you meet—everywhere, every day—has a soul. That soul will be in Heaven or Hell for eternity.

“Every person you'll ever meet everywhere has a soul, and that soul is either gonna be in heaven or hell for eternity.”

Soul‑winning is not a side ministry. It is not the calling of a select few. It is priority one with God.

Jesus said:

Mark 16:15 KJV 1900

15 And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.

Why do we treat this command with such callousness?

This is not a suggestion. It is not a ministry elective.

It is the marching order of the church.

Proverbs 11:30 declares:

Proverbs 11:30 KJV 1900

30 The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life; And he that winneth souls is wise.

If soul‑winning is wisdom, then neglecting it is folly.

I. A Soul‑Winner Obeys the Command of Christ

“We witness because it’s commanded.”

Jesus did not say, “Consider going.” He said, “Go.”

Dr. Gibbs states plainly: “Would you mark this down? That’s a command. Every one of us is under this command.”

A. Soul‑winning is not optional

There is no such thing as a good Christian who does not witness. We often define “good Christians” by what they don’t do—don’t drink, don’t swear, don’t watch filth. But Jesus defines love by obedience:

John 14:15 KJV 1900

15 If ye love me, keep my commandments.

And one of those commandments is soul‑winning.

B. The tragedy of silence

“According to Dr. David Gibbs Jr., based on nationwide data gathered through their legal ministry (Christian Law Association), less than 6% of Christians in fundamental Bible‑believing churches ever witness to anyone — and only 4% of those do it faithfully.”

That means 94% of believers are sitting in the bleachers while the world races toward eternity.

C. The crippled pastor—obedience despite limitation

Church, let me tell you a story Dr. Gibbs shared — a story that ought to stir every heart in this room.

A pastor in New England called Dr. Gibbs and said, “They passed a law to stop me from witnessing.” Dr. Gibbs asked what made him think the law was aimed at him. The pastor said, “Because they put my name in the law.” They literally wrote legislation saying it was to stop this preacher from telling people about Jesus.

When Dr. Gibbs called the attorney general of that state, the man admitted it. He said, “We can’t explain it. This fella is absolutely — like Superman on steroids — when it comes to telling people about Jesus Christ.”

Imagine that. A man witnessing with such fervor that the government tries to outlaw him by name.

But the story gets even more remarkable.

Dr. Gibbs flew to meet this pastor. When he stepped off the plane, he saw a severely crippled man holding a card with his name on it. His body was twisted, his hands were gnarled, and he dragged one leg behind him. Dr. Gibbs said, “Brother, the church should have sent someone else. You’ve obviously got some real physical problems.”

The man looked at him and said, “Brother Gibbs, I am the pastor.” Then he said words that ought to shake us to our core: “I am very damaged goods, but I’m a good soul winner.”

He explained that his hands trembled so badly they rubbed adhesive on them so he could hold gospel tracts. Sometimes the tract fell loose, and people would run to help him — and then he’d give them the tract.

He said, “It’s a command… I don’t want God to understand. I want to obey.”

Church, think about that.

A man so physically broken he could barely walk… A man so persistent in witnessing that the state tried to outlaw him… A man so committed to Christ that he said, “I don’t want God to understand — I want to obey.”

And as they walked through the airport, he witnessed to every single person in the baggage area. He witnessed to the parking attendants. He witnessed to everyone he could reach.

Why? Because he believed every soul mattered. Because he believed soul‑winning is a command. Because he believed obedience is better than excuses.

He said:

“I am very damaged goods, but I’m a good soul winner… I get the privilege of obeying God’s command.”

II. A Soul‑Winner Loves the Lord

“We witness because we love Jesus Christ.”

Love is not measured by emotion—it is measured by obedience.

A. Moody’s commitment

D. L. Moody vowed never to go to bed until he had witnessed to someone. One pastor in the text followed that example and testified:

“For the last seven years, I’ve not missed a day.”

Why? Because he loved the Savior.

B. The midnight gas‑station revival

The attached text contains one of the most remarkable witnessing stories you’ll ever read. A pastor walked into a gas mart at 2 AM and asked the clerk:

“Are you ready to die?”

It was clumsy. It was awkward. It was not polished.

But God used it.

A saved clerk rejoiced. A grieving mother’s daughter fell to her knees and was saved. Two truck drivers walked in, saw the scene, and asked to be saved.

A revival broke out in a gas station because one man loved Jesus enough to speak up.

He later said:

“You never asked the Lord to use you. You have not because you ask not.”

A soul‑winner asks God for divine appointments.

III. A Soul‑Winner Loves People

“We do it because we love people.” — Dr. Gibbs

A. Penn Jillette’s rebuke

Penn Jillette, an atheist magician, once said:

“If you really believed that the Son of God died in your place, and if you really believed that what he did on that cross was to pay for your sins, and if you really believed it's a free gift from God, if you'll just ask him to save you… how much would you have to hate people to not want them to know about it?”

His logic is devastatingly simple:

If Christians truly believe the gospel… If we truly believe Heaven and Hell are real… If we truly believe salvation is a free gift…

Then silence is hatred.

It’s a rebuke from someone who doesn’t even believe in God — yet understands the implications of the gospel better than many Christians.

B. The hospital scene—Hell is real

Church, let me take you into a hospital room — a place where eternity felt closer than the air in the lungs of the man lying there.

A young man named Toby, a college student from Dr. Gibbs’ home church, worked as an orderly in the city hospital. His job was simple: push patients on a gurney wherever the nurses told him. But one night, he witnessed something that changed his life forever.

A man had been horribly burned in a chemical explosion. This wasn’t an ordinary burn. The chemical he stole from work ignited violently when it touched water. He had poured the entire test tube into a sink full of water, and the explosion blew him backward, burned the ceiling, and left his skin covered in a chemical that continued to burn as it clung to him.

They rushed him to the hospital. Toby and another orderly strapped him down, but the man was in such agony that he kept breaking loose. A nurse said, “Hold him — we need more straps.” They tightened them, but he still fought with superhuman strength.

They wheeled him into the surgery suite. The doctor ran in, and the man lifted his head off the gurney, looked straight at Toby, and screamed words that no one in that room would ever forget:

“In God’s name, son, I’m in hell. Can you hear me? I’m on fire. I tell you, hell is real. I’m in hell. You’ve got to help me, please. I’m begging you, help me.”

For an hour — not a minute, not a moment — but a full hour, the doctors cut away the burning chemical. They couldn’t give him more painkiller; it would have killed him. So he screamed. He begged. He cried out in terror.

And every few moments, he would look at Toby and repeat:

“I’m in hell… can’t you hear me? In God’s name, I’m on fire.”

Finally, he slipped into unconsciousness. The doctors finished what they could. The man never survived.

Toby leaned against the wall, shaking, overwhelmed by what he had just witnessed. A Christian doctor walked over, pulling off his gloves, and said:

“What you saw tonight is absolutely nothing, nothing compared to what hell is going to be like. Toby, they’re going to scream forever. And not even God can help them.”

That broke him.

Toby began to sob uncontrollably. The doctor asked what was wrong, and Toby said:

“My mother… she’s gonna scream like that. My friends… my brother… almost everyone I know.”

Church, that night Toby realized something: If Hell is real — and it is — then silence is cruelty. If Hell is real — and it is — then love must speak. If Hell is real — and it is — then soul‑winning is not optional. It is urgent.

C. The one thing you cannot do in Heaven

Mark Cahill’s book title:

“The one thing you can’t do in heaven is win somebody to Christ.”

You can worship in Heaven. You can fellowship in Heaven. You can rejoice in Heaven.

But you cannot witness in Heaven.

Soul‑winning is for now.

IV. The Invitation: Becoming a Soul‑Winner

I want to end this message with this challenge to each of us:

“I want to be a better witness than I am… My heart’s been touched.”

A soul‑winner is not a perfect Christian. A soul‑winner is not a trained evangelist. A soul‑winner is simply a believer who obeys, loves Christ, and loves people.

A. The question

Do you love Him? Will you obey Him? Do you love people enough to tell them?

B. The altar call

Invite your people to commit themselves to being soul‑winners—not someday, but today.

Conclusion

A soul‑winner obeys the command. A soul‑winner loves the Savior. A soul‑winner loves people.

This is God’s priority one. This must become ours.