James McKnight gave up his No. 80 Miami Dolphins football jersey for simpler garb in order to join five other NFL players on stage at Beachfest.

During spring break, Athletes in Action showcased National Football League players in a dramatic Crucifixion skit.

Six players joined Campus Crusade for Christ staff member Corwin Anthony to perform a wordless drama choreographed to music from the movie The Matrix.

The skit was featured at Beachfest, a two-day evangelistic festival in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., sponsored by the Luis Palau Evangelistic Association. The event drew more than 400,000 people—just shy of the population of Wyoming. Thousands indicated decisions to receive Christ.

The skit opens with Atlanta Falcons linebacker Twan Russell saying goodbye to his wife and child.

Next, several men in dark suits tempt Twan with alcohol, marijuana and adultery. He resists, but eventually gives in.

Without warning, the tempters turn on him, lashing him with blows. The scene freezes, except for a man in white symbolizing Jesus and played by Miami Dolphins wide receiver James McKnight, who helps Twan to his feet and takes his place. Instantly, the action resumes and the tempters rain blows on James.

"These were real blows," says Corwin, a former NFL player who is a chaplain for the Dolphins. "It was very real—it was a jolt to the audience."

The seven-minute drama hushed the enormous crowd, and many wept. "I still cannot believe how many people were there," says Twan, "as far as the eye can see. That's what it's all about—everyone coming together to see Christ."
—Christopher S. Lawrence

Melissa Lewis (right) with H.E. Sra. Cristina Aguiar, formerly the Dominican Republic's ambassador to the U.N., at an International Prayer Breakfast.

Melissa Lewis chose her college major by circling all the interesting-looking classes in her course catalog. When she graduated from Baylor University in Texas with a double major in foreign service and speech communications, she wanted to help reach foreign governments for Christ.

Melissa lived in Bogotá, Colombia, as a child, where her parents served as missionaries. But during her senior year in high school, her parents divorced. "That shook my very foundations," says Melissa. "Missionaries aren't supposed to get divorced." Money tightened, and after her freshman year, her parents told her she had to transfer to a less expensive school.

Not to be deterred, Melissa shouldered the cost and worked her way through the next four years. The young student was already a Christian but had strayed from her convictions, describing herself as "a party girl."

Her roommate was active in the Campus Crusade for Christ group on campus and kept trying, unsuccessfully, to get Melissa to come to the meetings. Finally she told Melissa, "There are lots of cute boys there." Melissa attended the very next meeting.

The boys were enough to keep her at the meetings for a few weeks, but gradually something more substantial caught her attention. "They were cutting-edge," says Melissa, "and not like a religion." Soon she began going on Campus Crusade evangelistic outreaches with her roommate.

For her first mission trip, Melissa chose Daytona Beach, Fla., during Bike Week. Tens of thousands of motorcyclists descended on the beach during that week and she gave one—a big, rough-looking, leather-clad man with a bristly beard—a Four Spiritual Laws evangelistic booklet.

The next day her roommate suggested they go to a biker bar to talk with people there about Jesus. When they walked in, Melissa saw the same man to whom she had given the booklet. "He seemed different," says Melissa. So she asked him, "Do you remember that prayer in the back of the book?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do?"

"I prayed it."

He went on to explain that his family had been praying for him to receive Christ for years. His conversation with Melissa had convinced him that it was time.

Melissa decided to give her life to evangelism, and has been a staff member with Campus Crusade's Christian Embassy in New York for five years. Her role bonds her faith with her college desire to influence governments, specifically through her efforts with women at the United Nations. Though she has grown up, that teenage coed in a biker bar continues to face unconventional circumstances today.

Recently, her work with the U.N. wangled her an invitation to a reception hosted by a Middle Eastern delegation. Melissa immediately stood out, not only as one of the few women in the room, but also as the only blonde. Her unique status was quickly compounded when the valet loudly announced her arrival: "Melissa Lewis, Christian Embassy."

At the party, she met a leading diplomat from a North African nation. Standing just out of earshot of the large group, she talked with him about the difference between the Christian and Muslim views of Jesus. The reception ended, but the diplomat's interest didn't, so she introduced him to John Austin, the director of Christian Embassy in New York. Their friendship has opened the door to talks with the nation's ambassador.

Whether witnessing to bikers in a bar, chatting up North African diplomats, or spiritually mentoring women of the U.N., Melissa Lewis does it the only way she knows how: with everything she's got.
—Howard Hardegree

"The apostle Paul said it was his desire to preach the gospel in places where others had not gone," says André Kole. So when the world-renowned illusionist and 40-year Campus Crusade staff member heard about a four-day skeptics conference, he registered to attend. The global event drew 500 atheists, agnostics and humanists. "As I interacted with various people," says André, "never once did I encounter any hostility."

André was introduced to Paul Kurtz, conference organizer and a man named in 2000 as one of the five most influential skeptics of the past century.

"He didn't seem too pleased that I was there," says André. During three more encounters André tried unsuccessfully to persuade Kurtz to meet for a few minutes. After checking out of his hotel at the end of the conference, André approached him one last time. This time he agreed, and for half an hour they discussed their beliefs.

"He listened very intently," André explains, "as I told him how I came to believe in God and Jesus Christ after my investigation of the miracles of Christ from a skeptic's point of view." Afterward, Kurtz invited André to perform and speak at the next skeptics congress.
—Elizabeth Bahe

Campus | When college students hit the beaches for spring-break revelry, students involved with Campus Crusade for Christ met them with the message of God's love. During Big Break outreaches last March, Christians initiated 18,973 conversations about Christ; 42 percent of those—7,889—led to gospel presentations. In all, 691 students indicated decisions to accept Christ.

FamilyLife | FamilyLife's conferences, which provide couples with opportunities to talk, laugh, learn and to reconnect, have reached a milestone. More than 1 million people have shared these life-changing experiences—learning God's blueprints for their marriages and families. To find out about a conference in your area, call 1-800-FL-TODAY (358-6329).

Korea | Earlier this year 70-year-old Kim Joon-Gon officially turned leadership of Korea Campus Crusade to Park Sung-Min. The movement in Korea, started in 1958, was the first outside the United States. Korea has become a missionary-sending nation. Since 1981, 568 Korean staff members and disciples have served in 35 other countries.