This blog is about a night where I met 2 different girls from 2 very different places and what they taught me about the way I viewed “evangelism.”
One night in Athens we went to an area of the city known to be a place where refugees gather in the evenings. We went to have conversation and hand out some croissants. We really just wanted to love on these people that were forced out of their homeland. Show them that we cared about them and wanted to hear their stories. Show them the love of Christ.
When we got to the square I went straight to a bench lined with women in hijabs. They were just sitting, watching the young kids run around. I was itching to talk to them. Now-a-days I feel more at ease talking to Muslim women than Americans. I see their head coverings and make a beeline to them. I approach and ask if anyone speaks English. One girl immediately jumps into conversation with me. She is the only one really able to communicate but everyone else looks on with smiles. She translates for me. The family is from Syria and have been in Athens for a month. They live a few blocks away from the square. She is my age, 24. She has dreams of going to school in Germany and becoming a dentist. I ask her if she is married. She says no and giggles as I point to the group of 20 something Syrian guys standing close by to ask if she thinks any of them are cute.
“I don’t want to be married. Not yet.”
“Why?” I asked. “Well, I want to do things. I want to do things in my life.” I knew I liked this girl. Her mother makes a little girl get up so I can sit with them. I say no, but she insists.
“One day I would like a family, but I have dreams. I have things I want to do and places to go.” I told her about how I feel the same way. About how where I am from, many of my friends are getting married and having children, which is not wrong in the slightest, but isn’t for me yet.
“Same for me. Many girls marry so young where I am from.”
This is not a light statement. I met a 18 year old refugee yesterday with a 2 year old. It is not uncommon in Muslim societies for the girls to be married off at a very young age.
I talked to her for a very long time after that. We talked about school, music, hobbies, foods she likes to cook, Facebook, her family, the world and our religions. I will probably never see this sweet girl ever again, but this I know:
This girl, this Syrian, Muslim refugee girl, is probably more similar to me than anyone else I have met this year. You know those people you just click with? When conversation flows so easily? I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to leave that bench.
Lesson number 1: Don’t ever assume someone is different from you by the way they look or the way they live at the moment. The drug addict in the city park may have a similar work history to you. The man being rude to the Starbucks barista may struggle with insecurity too. The Syrian refugee may have similar outlooks on life. When you “evangelize” you should never assume the person is nothing like you. Yes, everyone needs the Jesus you have, but they may be more like you than you think. God had to put my Syrian twin in front of me to teach me this one.
Now switch gears.
I finally pull myself off of the bench, say goodbye to my friend, and head over to meet our group which is about to leave when one of my squad leaders, Ryan, asks if I would go talk to this one particular girl sitting on a different park bench. I am immediately drawn to her. There was something incredibly special about this girl.
I approach her smiling and ask if she speaks English. She’s Greek, with piercing eyes and beautiful fair skin. She’s 27 years old and slightly tipsy. To my delight she speaks perfect English. She went to university and has a cool lip ring. We talk for a little while, just casual conversation, I ask her about herself, her family, what she went to school for, etc. She asks about me, why I am in Greece, where have I been.
“Are you a Christian, then?”
Straight to the point. I like it.
“Yes, are you?”
“I was, but now I don’t know.” She goes on to tell me about how she used to think Jesus was real, but now she doesn’t really know. She knows there’s someone ‘up there’ orchestrating all this stuff but doesn’t know who. She’s seeking. And she’s bold with her questions.
“So why did you come talk to me?”
“Well to be honest my friend told me to.” Honesty is the best policy, right? “But when I saw you I knew you were special.”
I went on to tell her how when I saw her I could see how full of life she was. Her piercing eyes shine bright with life. I was drawn to her. She laughed and asked if I was serious. “Of course!” At this point i’m still squatting next to her, while she sits on the bench. She resumes asking me questions about my life, what I want to do, what I am doing when I get home. We talk like old friends catching up. She then opens her purse and pulls out a beer. She had hidden it when I first walked up, and for the first time in my entire life I was thankful for someone drinking while I was trying to tell them about Jesus.
That meant that she was comfortable with me. How is anyone really going to hear what we have to say if they are not comfortable with us!?
Lesson number 2: How do we show people we really care? We still talk to them after they pull out the beer. We don’t just hand them a couple bucks, we sit down on the dirty street corner with them and make them feel comfortable. A lifestyle or sin or struggle that is different than my own is not beneath me. It says all over the Gospels that Jesus hung out with some rough folks. I don’t think he waited until they cleaned up their act before he hung out with them.
No, he sat with them while they sinned. He doesn’t just throw a ladder into the pit and keep walking. He gets down in the pit with us and helps us out. He makes us comfortable because he is willing to sit with us in the mess.
My new Greek friend eventually makes room for me on the bench and asks me to sit with her. We talk some more and giggle and I tell her about how I hope that she finds Jesus again, because He thinks she is incredibly special too. I pray for her, hug her tight and head back to the hotel with the group.
Some would think that after 9 months on this trip I would have evangelism all figured out by now. It took me a bit, but I think i’m getting there. It’s not really about “evangelism” anyway, or at least what we have made evangelism out to be. I think when I thought about that word before I thought about Kirk Cameron and a specific set of questions to trick people into saying they are sinners.
Now evangelism to me is just loving people where they are. It’s about being a human and letting Christ do all the work. It’s about loving people and realizing we aren’t all that different after all. It’s about doing what He did. Sitting with people in their mess and helping them get out of it which is just closer to Him.
At least that’s what He does with me. I’m a mess a lot. Time after time Jesus gets down in my mess. He doesn’t judge me or ask me manipulative questions or give me a couple of bucks and keep walking. He always stops, gets down there with me, and lifts me out.
