WHY BIBLICAL ENCOUNTERS ARE NOT A MENU FOR MODERN MYSTICS

By Akin Ojumu

In Hosea 1:2 we read:

“When the LORD began to speak through Hosea, the LORD said to him, “Go, marry a promiscuous woman and have children with her...’”

Hosea obeyed. He married Gomer, and his painful marriage became a living prophetic drama of Israel’s spiritual adultery against God.

Now, imagine that a preacher strolls into Church next Sunday, adjusts his designer jacket, takes the microphone, lowers his voice into the familiar “Thus saith the Lord” register, and announces:

“Brethren, God spoke to me last night. He told me to go and marry a prostitute.”

Would you shout, “Glory!” Would you rush to the altar? Would you buy the conference registration? Would you invite him to teach a three-day seminar titled: “Prophetic Marriage Dimensions: Unlocking the Hosea Anointing?”

I hope not.

You would probably ask whether the man needed prayer, counseling, or a long vacation from the microphone.

And yet, this exposes one of the great absurdities of contemporary encounter Christianity:

The Bible is treated as though it were a catalog of supernatural experiences from which ambitious preachers may order whatever mystical adventure catches their fancy.

Paul went to the third heaven? Wonderful. I want that package.

John received Revelation on Patmos? Excellent. Upgrade me to the prophetic package.

Ezekiel saw wheels within wheels? Put me down for the visionary package.

Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up? I’ll take the throne-room encounter.

Moses spoke with God? Add the face-to-face premium plan.

Abraham entertained angels? Throw in angelic visitation.

Elijah was taken up? Now we are talking.

At this rate, all that remains is for somebody to announce a weekend conference called:

“Choose Your Biblical Encounter: From Patmos to Paradise in Three Easy Steps.”

But there is a small problem.

The Bible is not a supernatural travel brochure. It is not a mystical tourism guide. It is not a spiritual theme park. And it certainly is not a catalog of exotic experiences available to every preacher who has learned to speak slowly, close his eyes dramatically, and tell stories about “realms,” “dimensions,” “portals,” and “encounters.”

The fact that something happened in Scripture does not mean God has instructed you to reproduce it.

This is basic hermeneutics. There is a difference between description and prescription. Descriptive passages tell us what happened. Prescriptive passages tell us what God commands.

Narrative is not automatically normative.

The Bible records Jacob marrying two sisters. Are we starting the Jacob Marriage School?

David pretended to be insane and allowed saliva to run down his beard. Will somebody please organize the Davidic Drooling Conference?

Ezekiel lay on his side for hundreds of days. Where is the Prophetic Side-Lying Ministry International?

Isaiah walked naked and barefoot as a prophetic sign. Should we expect the Isaiah 20 Apostolic Nudity Summit next year?

Hosea married an unfaithful woman. Perhaps someone should launch the Gomer Matrimonial Anointing.

Ridiculous? Of course.

But that is precisely why the selective use of biblical narratives by modern encounter merchants is so intellectually dishonest.

Nobody wants to imitate Hosea when Hosea becomes inconvenient. Nobody wants Ezekiel’s bizarre prophetic assignments. Nobody wants Jeremiah’s loneliness. Nobody wants Paul’s beatings. Nobody wants Peter’s imprisonment. Nobody wants Stephen’s stones. Nobody wants John’s exile. Nobody wants the Apostles’ suffering.

But give people a trip to heaven? Suddenly everybody wants to be apostolic. Give them angels, secret conversations with Jesus, celestial meetings, supernatural transportation, private revelations, and excursions through mysterious dimensions of the spirit realm, and suddenly the descriptive narratives of Scripture become a spiritual instruction manual.

How convenient.

Apparently, biblical experiences are normative only when they make impressive conference material.

Hosea’s marriage was not a divine tutorial titled, “How Prophets Should Choose Their Wives.” It was a prophetic sign.

Israel belonged to God by covenant, yet Israel repeatedly betrayed Him through idolatry. Hosea’s broken marriage dramatized that spiritual adultery. When Hosea later pursued and redeemed his estranged wife, his actions illustrated the astonishing covenant faithfulness of God toward an unfaithful people.

That is the point.

The lesson is not: “Go and marry a prostitute because Hosea did.”

The lesson is about sin, covenant betrayal, judgment, divine love, redemption, and restoration.

The historical event served a redemptive purpose.

Once you understand that, something else becomes obvious:

Extraordinary biblical encounters must also be interpreted according to their redemptive-historical purpose.

They did not occur willy-nilly. God was not randomly handing out supernatural experiences so biblical personalities could later impress conference audiences with their spiritual résumés. These events occurred within the unfolding revelation of God’s redemptive plan.

Which brings us to Paul.

Modern mystics love Paul. Especially the Paul who went to the third heaven. They are considerably less enthusiastic about the Paul who was beaten, imprisoned, stoned, shipwrecked, naked, hungry, cold, persecuted, and eventually martyred. That Paul apparently does not fit the brochure.

They want 2 Corinthians 12 Paul. They are less interested in 2 Corinthians 11 Paul. They want Paradise without persecution. Revelation without affliction. Mystery without martyrdom. Heavenly encounters without apostolic suffering.

That is not Paul. That is religious cosplay.

Paul did not wander around the ancient world marketing himself as The Man Who Visited the Third Heaven. He actually refused to build his ministry identity around the experience.

And more importantly, Paul was not an ordinary Christian who cracked some spiritual code. Paul was an Apostle of Jesus Christ. He was personally confronted and commissioned by the risen Lord.

Jesus said of him:

Acts 9:15

“He is a chosen instrument of mine to carry my name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel.”

Paul repeatedly grounded his ministry authority in that divine apostolic commission. His encounters occurred within that unique calling. His ministry helped establish the doctrinal foundation of the Church. His writings became part of the Canon of Scripture. Thirteen New Testament books bear his name.

Paul did not merely return from an encounter with an entertaining testimony. He returned with apostolic authority. That distinction is rather important.

So let us ask the uncomfortable questions.

If alleged supernatural experiences of the modern apostles are going to be defended by appealing to Paul, then let us stop playing theological games and carry the comparison all the way through.

1. Were these modern apostles commissioned by the risen Christ in the manner Paul was?

2. Do they possess Paul’s apostolic authority? 

3. Were the modern apostles appointed to lay the doctrinal foundation of the universal Church? 

4. Has Christ authorized his private revelations as binding revelation for Christians?

5. Should Christians treat their claimed heavenly experiences as revelation from God?

6. Will their sermons be added to the New Testament?

7. Which book did they write? The Gospel According to Arome? First Arome? Second Arome? The Epistle to the Nigerians? The Revelation of Apostle Selman?

How many books of the New Testament did they write?

Zero.

And therein lies the rather enormous problem. You cannot borrow Paul’s encounters while quietly leaving Paul’s apostolic office behind.

You cannot say: “Paul went to heaven, therefore my preacher can go to heaven,” while ignoring the fact that Paul belonged to a unique group of men commissioned by Christ during the foundational era of the Church.

That is not interpretation. That is spiritual cherry-picking. It is the theological equivalent of walking through Scripture with a shopping cart:

Third heaven? Into the cart.

Angelic visitation? Into the cart.

Audible voice? Into the cart.

Prophetic dream? Into the cart.

Miraculous transportation? Definitely into the cart.

Beatings? Mba! Put that back.

Shipwreck? No way, Jose! Thank you.

Prison? Wrong aisle.

Martyrdom? Out of stock, please.

Humility? We’ll think about it.

This is what happens when Scripture becomes a supernatural shopping mall. Every biblical encounter is pulled off the shelf, stripped of context, detached from redemptive history, and repackaged as a product for contemporary religious consumption.

Soon we have ministries built around:

“Activating angelic encounters.”

“Entering prophetic dimensions.”

“Accessing heavenly courts.”

“Travelling in the spirit.”

“Receiving celestial intelligence.”

“Unlocking ancient mantles.”

“Operating portals.”

“Hosting divine frequencies.”

The vocabulary becomes increasingly impressive as the biblical substance becomes increasingly thin.

And because ordinary Christianity now seems terribly boring, everyone must have an encounter.

Reading Scripture is not enough. Prayer is not enough. Faithfulness is not enough. Loving your family is not enough. Serving your Church is not enough. Growing in holiness is not enough. Bearing the fruit of the Spirit is not enough. Preaching Christ is not enough.

Apparently, unless you have been transported to a celestial boardroom where Jesus, Abraham, John Knox, and perhaps several unnamed angels briefed you on geopolitical strategy, your Christianity is stuck in the shallow end.

This is what happens when people become addicted to spiritual spectacle. The ordinary means of grace begin to look ordinary. Scripture becomes insufficiently exciting. Christ becomes insufficiently sensational. And eventually Christianity itself must be remodeled into mystical entertainment.

The biblical Apostles were not prototypes for a future industry of self-appointed apostles. Their office was foundational.

Paul writes that the Church is:

Ephesians 2:20

“built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone.”

Foundations are laid once. Nobody finishes building a house and then announces:

“Excellent. Now let us install another foundation on the roof.”

Yet modern apostolic culture often behaves as though every generation requires a fresh set of foundational apostles with private access to heaven.

Thus the endless parade of titles: Apostle. Prophet. Seer. Oracle. General. Territorial commander. Gatekeeper. Custodian of mysteries. Carrier of dimensions. Possessor of mantles. Keeper of ancient wells.

At some point one wonders whether we are dealing with the New Testament Church or auditions for a theological superhero franchise.

Paul never needed such theatrical branding. His authority did not come from grandiose titles. It came from Christ.

Christianity does not need a new generation of mystical adventurers bringing us dispatches from Heaven. 

We already have revelation. We already have Scripture. We already have the prophetic Word made more sure. We already have the apostolic testimony. We already have the Gospel. We already have Christ.

What the Church desperately needs is not more men boasting about where they supposedly traveled in the spirit. We need men who can accurately explain the Bible sitting open on the table in front of them.

The tragedy of our age is that some people know every alleged dimension of heaven but cannot interpret a paragraph of Scripture in context.

They can describe angels. They can map portals. They can identify spiritual gates. They can recount conversations with dead historical figures. They can explain mysteries hidden from ordinary believers. But give them Hosea 1 and suddenly we discover that basic hermeneutics has left the building.

No, the Bible is not a catalog of supernatural experiences. It is not an encounter menu. It is not an apostolic adventure manual. It is not a celestial tourism brochure. It is the inspired revelation of God, unfolding His redemptive purposes in history and culminating in Jesus Christ.

Hosea was Hosea. Paul was Paul. John was John. The Apostles were the Apostles.

And a twenty-first-century preacher does not become their equivalent merely by telling increasingly spectacular stories about heaven.

Before anyone uses Paul’s third-heaven experience to validate his own mystical résumé, perhaps he should first answer the much simpler question:

Where is your apostolic commission?

And while you are at it:

Which chapter of the New Testament did you write?