I remember until I reached a certain point in my faith as an adult, whether someone was a Christian or not did not matter in whether I chose to pursue or maintain a relationship with them or not. Friends were friends whether Christian or not. But at some point in my life, years after becoming a committed follower of Christ, and especially after having attended seminary, it dawned on me that I had no true non-Christian friends. Part of the reason was because I was no longer in the same career field as them and was on a trajectory to become a minister. But another part of it was because deep down I realized I was uncomfortable with how they may perceive the kind of person that I had become. Of course, I was ministering to non-Christians daily on the streets, but there were none that I could consider my true friends. I think somewhere along the line I became so burdened with the job of saving souls, that I stopped relating to people on an equal, human to human level, from a fellow human to a fellow human.
Perhaps it was that I had so bought into the biblical teaching that non-Christians were still living in darkness; they were sinful, pagan and therefore would not fully understand where I was coming from. Perhaps there was some deep part of me that felt uncomfortable being around them, for fear that if I was truly myself before them, they would not understand me, that I would be seen as a weirdo or even be ridiculed or persecuted. I think I had just become too comfortable being understood all the time and having like minded people around me. It is the nature of human beings to surround ourselves with those who are like us and naturally fear those who are different.
I realized that not having any non-Christian friends was a huge problem. I wanted to change that.
I remember the time that I had an epiphany. Kevin (name changed for privacy) had a kind of threatening presence, 6ft. 4” decked out in all black with long hair and combat boots. Half Native American, gothic, naturally inclined to dark things— the occult, heavy metal and horror movies. He was also a felon and lived on the streets. His stepdad, a Jehovah’s Witness, had physically abused him until he was 14 years old. Naturally he had a lot of anger towards Christianity and God. I met him on the street while evangelizing. Over the years I tried everything I could to try to convert him, preached the Gospel to him every chance I got, prayed and fasted for him, brought him to church. But when I finally realized that he wasn’t going to convert, at least not anytime soon, I had two choices. I could just drop my efforts completely and move onto another person who would be more ready, willing to hear what I had to share and stop meeting with him altogether. The other option was simply to continue to remain his friend. I felt as though the Lord was gently asking me through my thoughts, “Do you really like him? I know you’re trying to convert him, but do you really like who he is and enjoy spending time with him?” I realized I actually didn’t like him. I didn’t like the kind of music he listened to, the kind of movies he wanted to see, how at times his thoughts frightened me because it was so cold and loveless. Also, for most of the time I’ve known him, he was living on the streets. And whenever I would get a call from him, it was because he needed help monetarily. So, if I was honest with myself, I don’t think I really liked Kevin. But I also realized that what he needed most were genuine friendships, people who would love and accept him for who he is, who would appreciate him and enjoy his company. Everyone else saw him as a burden, because he was homeless and would often asked for help. I imagine people didn’t want to be around him. I realized I had to do the hard job of liking him, befriending him, enjoying being around him, and really appreciating him as a human being if I was to become his true friend.
So I gave up trying to preach to him every time I met him. Since then I hardly mention God or Jesus to him. And I tried to lighten up with him, trying to spend time with him as a friend, not as one who is trying to convert him, like going to the movies or lunch with him, inviting him over for dinner. Once I stopped trying to convert him and tried to relate to him as a friend, I think something changed within him too. He stopped seeing me as some crazy Christian trying to convert him all the time, talking about Jesus 24/7. He started to consider me a friend. And a good friend. And he expresses that he likes me better now than when I first met him, that I’ve lightened up a lot.
Last Saturday, I went to a brewery for Octoberfest where a musician friend of mine was performing with other musicians. I hadn’t seen her in a while. We are not very close; she is not a Christian, and I presume most of her musician friends are not either. So I prayed before going, “God, give me the courage and the opportunity to share the Gospel with them.” But I was open to however the Spirit would lead me. And while I was there listening to them perform, it dawned on me, that perhaps more genuine and effective than just preaching the Gospel to them on the first encounter, was really relating to them on their level, to become one of them, to build relationship, rapport, and trust. These are the natural, wisdom ways to get to know people. And I would enjoy the process a lot more and feel less of a burden in having to evangelize to them. If they could see me as one of them, that I didn’t have an agenda, and they found out that I was a cool guy, then in that relationship of trust I would have plenty of opportunities to share the Gospel with them, not only in words, but in deed as well. I think sometimes we turn people away because we are too bold or direct with them and skip the hard, time taking step of getting to know them instead of using wisdom and earning their trust; this is especially true in this post-Christian generation.
As I sat there listening to the music, I reminisced about my time in art school in my twenties. I wasn’t as strong in my faith yet, but I used to form relationships with just anyone because they were just cool people, not because I wanted to convert them, but just because I needed friends. And I didn’t categorize them as Christian or non-Christian. I just befriended them, because that’s what humans do. In this way evangelism becomes much less a burden and less an event, and more part of what you do naturally as you go about your life. You’re able to evangelize more organically based on whom God places in your path. And you’re able to minister to people not just in word but in deed. In this way evangelism becomes less of a one time presentation where you’re trying to get an immediate decision out of people whom you may never see again, and more of an ongoing relationship and conversation, where you show the light and magnitude of the Gospel through your love and service in long, lasting relationships.
We should not be hesitant nor afraid of forming relationships with non-Christian friends, not only to evangelize to them, but simply to love them, to know them as people, to learn from them, to be blessed by them, and to see the image of God shining through them, so we could do life together and call out those things in their lives that God sees as redeemable, leading them to hope, life, and love. This is what the Lord did during His time on earth. This is what it means to dwell incarnationally with people.