Dear Rochester Street Preacher,
I noticed you last week.
As I drove through downtown Rochester there you were on the corner of Broadway and 2nd, just you and your little sound system. It didn’t look like you were having much
success. Nobody came within a block of
you, yet you stubbornly kept at it. Thankfully
I couldn’t hear a word you were saying (I had my music playing at a ‘proper’
volume which drowned out even your loud rants), but I know exactly what you
were saying. You were quoting all sorts
of verses from the King James version of the Bible (as if that’s the only
translation that God allows). You were
telling people that they needed to repent or they would go to hell.
I know your type and frankly you drive me crazy. It’s because of people like you that we
Christians get a bad name. You don’t
have a word to say about God’s grace.
You spew your words of hate and damnation, turning a loving God into
some sort of monster to be feared. You have
no use for building relationships. The people who walk by you are just objects
to be preached at. You won’t listen to
them or their backgrounds. You put
people in a box labeled ‘sinner’ and condemn them for it. Do
you forget that the people you’re yelling at are God’s children too?
Jerks like you are unloving, intolerant of those who disagree
with you, and 100% convinced that your interpretation of Scripture is the
correct one.
Oh wait. Pot…meet kettle!
See what I did there?
I ream you for your lack of relationships, but I didn’t even turn down
my music to hear what you had to say. I
put you in a box called ‘street preacher’ and condemned you for it. I call you unloving, but I looked down on you
from the moment I saw you. I call you intolerant, but I dismiss your faith
perspective out of hand. Perhaps I’m the
one 100% convinced that my interpretation of Scripture is the correct one.
Mr. Street Preacher, it sounds like I forgot that you too
are a child of God. You too have a story
of faith. You too follow Jesus. I made you into a caricature of yourself
just so I could self-righteously condemn you.
Last Sunday evening I was on that same corner in Rochester,
this time walking to hear Jay Bakker speak (a shout out to the Sandbox Cooperative for bringing him in). Jay is
the son of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker.
Yes, that Jim Bakker, the one who went to prison in the 1980’s for
bilking his congregation for millions. I’ve
railed against ‘people like that’ who fail so completely. They make the church look bad!
Jay now serves as a pastor at Revolution Church in the Twin
Cities and he travels extensively to talk about grace. It’s a message I love to hear, but it sounds
like I need to hear it more. When Jay
talked about Jim Bakker, it wasn’t as some evil church dude. He talked about his dad, a man of faith who
worked to instill faith in his son.
Mr. Street Preacher, I did the same thing to Jim Bakker that
I did to you. I turned him into a caricature
of himself so I could feel justified in attacking him with impunity. I forgot that he too is a beloved child of
God.
Ironic, isn’t it? In
my zeal to proclaim the love and acceptance that God has for God’s world I self-righteously condemn those who I feel ‘get
in the way’ of that message. It’s funny
how we who insist on ‘tolerance and acceptance’ are quick to shun and
condemn those that they feel are intolerant.
Mr. Street Preacher, I’ll likely never have a chance to have
a conversation with you. Forgive me for
so quickly condemning you. God loves you
unconditionally. It appears that I have
some work to do before I can do the same.
Your brother in Christ,
Pete