During my teen years, I did outreach on the streets of Berkeley. The city has a reputation not only for being liberal but also for its eccentricity. You can find people of every persuasion under the sun—many of them quite outspoken.

I met people with names like “300” (yes, the number), “Nostradamus,” and “Lumukanda.” Self-proclaimed Christs, antichrists, prophets, witches, and warlocks.

Once I suspended my disbelief, I had many interesting interactions. Few things surprise me now. For years, I’ve thought about putting together a small booklet on urban apologetics—to help equip others for the kinds of issues that come up in the field.

One time I “confronted” a man who was openly reading The Satanic Bible. Turns out he was a Methodist minister doing what he called “opposition study.” He told me he had manifested the stigmata when the Spirit came upon him—referring to the Greek word stigma, from where Paul said, “I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus” (Galatians 6:17). He claimed literal nail prints appeared in his hands when he received the Holy Ghost. First and last time I’d heard of such a thing. He also told me that the underground church in China mostly baptized in the singular formula.

I was berated by a group of Hebrew Israelites for being a race traitor—because our church was multi-ethnic.

I went back and forth with a Seventh-Day Adventist adherent, but I stopped when he handed me a flyer for a Hebrew class he was teaching. The Hebrew script on the flyer read left to right. The first thing you learn in Hebrew is that it reads right to left.

One day, a homeless man came into our little basement church to drop off a small offering. We’d never seen him before. On his way out, he stopped at the door and sang a chorus in easily the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. We never saw him again. I’m certain he was an angel (cf. Hebrews 13:2).

I remember the first time I met someone who believed the name “Jesus” was an Anglo distortion of the sacred Hebrew name of God. When I said the name “Jesus,” he literally shuddered in fear and disgust. So I chased him down the street, saying “Jesus” over and over again.

There was a man who was quite receptive to our message. His sole objection to Scripture was that donkeys do not talk. He chased us down the street screaming, “Donkeys don’t talk!”—apparently unaware of Balaam’s story (Numbers 22:28–30).

I remember very clearly the Unitarian in the parking lot of the 99¢ Only store who told me it was the duty of all ministers to write publicly.

I remember the last debate I ever got into. It was so intense that at one point, my “opponent” loudly threatened to commit suicide if I didn’t recant my soteriology. We were in a Starbucks.

Why do I say all this?

In all my adventures, not once did I win someone through debate. Not once.

Recently, I took a young man with me to the outreach laundromat. The moment he heard something that challenged his theology, he lost all focus and wanted to “cross swords.” He was shaking. I could relate to him. I once wasted two hours debating WMSCOG members. I got triggered and wasted two precious hours with people who were not hungry.

Was there benefit to all these interactions? Absolutely. My lessons in apologetics were always grounded in mission. It helped me develop a mental taxonomy of what existed and the general disposition of its adherents.

I’ve never studied apologetics for the sake of apologetics. In fact, I think it’s dangerous to study how to win debates without a missional grounding.

What did work?

Christlike character and consistency. I looked for people who were already looking for God, and I tried to minister to their immediate needs first then preach Christ when true hunger was expressed.

When you’re always looking for a debate, you will always find one. But don’t go looking for a fight and then complain that people don’t want God. If rebuke is your only gear, you will only encounter stiff necks. You cannot manipulate someone into metanoia (repentance). Scripture says, “The goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance” (Romans 2:4), and elsewhere, “It pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe” (1 Corinthians 1:21). My job is to be an extension of the goodness of God in someone’s life and a faithful bearer of the Gospel. Wise as a serpent, harmless as a dove.

People lie to themselves. I did. Instead of feeding people, I was often just looking for my pound of flesh. But you’re supposed to feed the sheep—not eat them.

They say you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

But I say unto you:

You win 100% of the debates you don’t engage.

Let the reader understand.