The Street Preacher
Last evening at “Asheville’s “Downtown After-Five” Street Fair, I ran across a street preacher. I observed him for awhile, and noticed he had lots of curious onlookers. Every few minutes one or two would venture forth and get into some kind of argument with him. His sign said: “God Hates Our Sin” and had the biblical references of Psalm 5:5 and 7:11.
I can’t say that he was inviting of real conversation. In a crowd of casual street-fair attendees, his attire was … well, dorky. His old style glasses, oily and bumpy face suggested some avoidance-behavior … like he did not really want to be there. I could be wrong.
I finally went up and identified myself and asked his name, gave him mine, and introduced myself as an ordained Baptist minister. His mien did not lighten up. A few others who knew me gathered around to hear what might be heard.
I asked him which sins was he thinking God was in hate with. That seemed a no-brainer to him: “Alcoholism, drug use, and homosexuality.”
“Really?” I asked. “Have you seen such here?”
“Everyone with a drink in their hands is an alcoholic, and haven’t you smelled the marijuana yet (No, I hadn’t.) And I’ve seen 5 women couples walk by, hand-in-hand.
“And you are sure that God hates that?” I wanted to be sure.
“Yes, it says so in the Bible,” which he unhooked from under his arm.
“Where?” I asked. “Can you point us to these places?”
That’s when he really started to dislike me, I think.
He couldn’t point me to those places.
“Can you tell me what these two verses in Psalms say, these verses referenced on your sign?”
He couldn’t do that.
“Man,” I said, “You’re making me look real bad here. I am a minister, a follower of Jesus, a lover of God, but when you go public like this and don’t even know some basic stuff that you are advertising, then other Christians look bad, too. It might be good if you knew your stuff, so you could be more persuasive.”
He scowled at me.
May I humbly suggest another sign? I guarantee you’ll get a better response, and you’ll talk with more people, and have fewer arguments. Want to hear it?”
He nodded.
“OK, try this. I think the gospel is this, and it may go on your sign: God is in love with you. Let me show you how.
“I triple-dare you to raise that sign next time.”
As I walked away he was calling someone. I wonder who.
Brilliant, Marc! I appreciate that you didn't simply have a shouting match -- which doesn't accomplish anything productive. I appreciate even more, however, that you engaged this man and sought to have him demonstrate "proof" of his belief. Of course many of us can't produce proof of the rightness of our beliefs, but at least the act of attempting to do so should get us all thinking. Ah the novelty!
ReplyDeleteConsider the preteen years of a young man, he begins to struggle with persistent frustration and anger for the first time. Embarassments, slights, misunderstandings, and outright insults and assaults that never achieved appropriate "closure" just get tossed into his backpack, carried to and from school every day. Year after year it gets heavier and heavier, but parents, teachers, and preachers all urged politeness, consideration, and "good behavior."
ReplyDeleteIt should be obvious that eventually many such adolescent might need an outlet for what becomes a boulder of rage carried around everywhere. What if every slight cannot be forgiven or forgotten? When it it ok to hate? What is ok to hate? Who is it acceptable to hate?
Fortunately, the preachers ultimately have the answer, Satan. Finally somebody to guiltlessly hate. What a relief! (Later, pop culture helps out by saying Nazis, Sharks, and Zombies are also ok to hate (a.k.a. shoot in the face while playing a video game or scripting a movie).)
But this is such a widely shared (though usually unspoken) urge, such a source of stored energy, that it can't be left alone by opportunistic onlookers. The definition of Satan can be so easily broadened to incorporate more accessible groups. The Curse of Ham, the Holiness codes in Leviticus, Paul's descriptions of acts contrary to nature, etc.
So, just as rubber-stamping the righteous hatred of Nazis and Zombies sells a lot of video games, the "God hates [pejorative_goes_here]!" movements sell a lot of books, pew seats, placard signs, sandwich boards, and hunting rifles.
If we can't learn to deal with our hatred ourselves, to re-aim our energies into health, kindness, and growth, then someone else will gladly step up with a brightly colored "put your hate here" sign. Sadly, we'd rather handle fire than attempt to defuse our own rage. We'll gladly line up in droves to throw rocks at [group you just love to hate] long before we'll attempt to just put aside that radioactive boulder of hate we've been carrying and nurturing for so long.
Why is this? (RE: my previous post.) Why can't we just put down the hate we carry? Why is it so important that SOMEONE PAYS for the slights and offenses we have suffered and carried with us ever since (even if that "someone" is tenuously-if-at-all related to the offender)?
ReplyDeleteWhy do we so gleefully give our attention, time, money, energy, and even lives to "authorities" whose only wisdom seems to be telling us (usually upon the flimsiest, most subjective evidence) whom we should hate?
Is there anything that can be done to help us forgive or, at least, walk away from the hate we carry, and/or to stop seeking, demanding, and clutching at so much more?