A man in the crowd answered, “Teacher, I brought you my son, who is possessed by a spirit that has robbed him of speech. Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth and becomes rigid. I asked your disciples to drive out the spirit, but they could not.”

“You unbelieving generation,” Jesus replied, “how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy to me.”

So they brought him. When the spirit saw Jesus, it immediately threw the boy into a convulsion. He fell to the ground and rolled around, foaming at the mouth.

Jesus asked the boy’s father, “How long has he been like this?”

“From childhood,” he answered. “It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.”

“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.”

Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!”

Mark 9:17-24 NIV

I don’t know the first time I read or heard the phrase “divine encounter” but I am pretty sure it was in the context of a church discussion about evangelism. So let’s see, now I’ve used a bunch of words that require definition. Church probably is easy enough to define, people gathered together who claim Jesus was both fully God and fully human. Evangelism, a bit more vague, has its roots in the greek word “euangelion” which means a “good report.” So evangelism is about bringing a good report or sharing good news and information with others. A messenger bringing you news would be called an evangelist. But it has become so intertwined with religion, specifically the Christian religion, that it really has no meaning outside that context. 

I remember hearing “divine encounter” used in prayers asking God to prepare hearts and open physical doors so we might share about Jesus with people. The imagination I grew up with and have been surrounded by in most of my years of work in churches as a pastor has been that a divine encounter is one prepared by God. I have always imagined they would go like this: I would be sitting in Starbucks and somehow strike up a conversation with someone, and in two to three minutes I would have acknowledged I was a Christian and they would ask me about my church and next Sunday get baptized. This is how the pastors, evangelism experts, and books I read on the topic often portrayed the process. Sure they always said you get rejected more than it goes well, but you have to keep asking God to lead you to the “divine encounters.” The ones God has prepared for you to be “successful” with. 

I may be overstating the motivation and facts here, but I hope you feel uncomfortable by the imagination about evangelism and divine encounters I have portrayed here. If you don’t, I would love to have coffee and talk more about the nuances of a theology of mutuality, which is at the foundation of this post. In all my years of being a Christian I have never felt good about cold turkey sharing my faith with someone and pushing the conversation toward an invitation to church or to study the Bible. Even the idea of it makes me feel queasy. But I am passionate and feel strongly that a relationship with Jesus and a regular commitment to being part of a local church is key to being a healthy and truly human being the way God intended us to be. The church is the good news, I want to share that with others. So I found myself in this uncomfortable tension of wanting to do good Christian witness, to share with others how Christ has transformed my life and how the church benefits my life. I wanted to be an evangelist but I was put off and often offended by the evangelism strategies and experts I was reading and listening to. My imagination needed to change. 

This is where I was introduced to several things. One was the Celtic Way of Evangelism that is often attributed to the work of St. Patrick in the 4th century. This model flips the traditional view of asking people to believe certain things before they can join our church and says we ought to help people belong before we ask them to believe. A second influential work was the writings of Alan Roxborough and Mark Lau Branson who use the language of “joining with God in the neighborhood.” During this same time I read the book “The Art of Neighboring” and realized how poor of a neighbor I am. I often forget names or do not even care to know the names of people I live around. I watch tv, work on my computer, or drive long distances to hang out with people I like rather than being dependable and embedded in the life of my neighborhood. 

My coach used the phrase “divine encounter” last month and it caught me off-guard. She was not referring to the God preparing people who would allow me to share my sales pitch and respond by “getting saved” or “making a decision.” No she used it to refer to me waking up to see the image of God in the people I sit with at Starbucks, the divine encounter with the creative God who made my Mango/dragon fruit lemonade today. As I am writing this, the manager of Starbuck’s name is Joshua, and I am reminded that if my eyes are open I can see sign posts and reminders that God has been here all along. Jesus means the Lord saves, and the Hebrew equivalent is Joshua. I am not going to save the people at this Starbucks by a sales pitch for my church, God is already here loving and saving people. If I open my eyes to see then I might be able to join with what God is doing. I get to witness and call attention to the good and creative God who saves. I am now more committed than ever to be praying for divine encounters, ones where I wake up and with eyes wide open see how God is saving me and my friends, neighbors, coworkers, and family. 

I am thankful for the divine encounters with 80 year old neighbors, Starbucks baristas, fellow runners on the treadmill, families at the library, and people of different cultures, languages, perspectives, politics, education, work experience. I see God here and am so glad I get to belong in the family of God before I completely understand. So I pray as the father did in Mark 9 “God I believe, help my unbelief.”