If you pay a little attention right now to David Letterman, you could learn something critical about carrying the gospel to your neighbors, and to yourself.

I'm not talking about re-tooling some Christian version of the late night comedian's "Top Ten Lists" or his "Stupid Pet Tricks." I'm not talking about his cynical humor, or emotionally detached coolness. I'm talking about why he was so scared of a blackmailer's extortion .

We've all been there.

Last week Letterman started off a segment on his nationally-broadcast program "The Late Show" by telling his viewers a "story." The studio audience, laughing along, seemed not to be able to tell, at first, if this was a set-up for a joke or a skit, but it became clear this wasn't a gag.

Letterman said that he had gotten into his car at six in the morning one day to find an envelope in his car, an envelope with details and evidence of Letterman's sexual affairs with women on his staff. The extortionist wanted two million dollars or he'd make it all public in a screenplay or book.

At first glance, this is just another celebrity soap opera, and, frankly speaking, not a particularly shocking one. What interests me, though, is not that Letterman was doing "terrible things." What else would I expect a man outside of Christ to do?

What's interesting to me is that the blackmail scared Letterman, and the reasons why.

Letterman said the extortion note was disturbing, first of all, because he feared the mysterious correspondent was watching him. Someone who knew this much about his life, would this figure be tapping him on the shoulder from the shadows? Pulling him into the back of the car?

Letterman also, though, was upset by the note because it was true.

Letterman acknowledged to this viewers that he had, in fact, had sex with women on the "Late Show" staff. He also said that seeing his "terrible things" there in print, with evidence for it all, in front of him, made him feel "creepy." Even in his deadpan comedic, "aw shucks this ain't so bad" wink-and-grin performance, we can hear a terror, a terror that is common to humanity.

If the envelope in the car had accused Letterman of being a member of an Islamic terrorist cell, he might have still been worried that the crazed writer was around, but, after getting out of the parking garage, Letterman wouldn't have been, in his words, "menaced" by the accusations. Why not?