| Ryan and I had an exciting weekend, we did. Yes indeed, we got SAVED on Saturday. How fabulous.  For those of you who really love street evangelism, let me just tell you a little story on how NOT to do it. Ugh. Ryan and I were happily sipping our LatteLand coffees, sitting outside of Scooter's, on the Plaza. It was getting late, and activities on the Plaza were largely winding down. Traffic on the sidewalk was quieting down, as the teenagers and 20-somethings all rushed somewhere that was open past 11. (I like to think that they were all going home, but in all reality they were more likely on their way to Westport, which is regretably really the only area in KC that stays open much past 10:00, with the exception of Scooters, IHOP, and World Revival Church). Our quiet happy area of the world was interrupted by a marvelously well intentioned kind young woman, who approached us, whipped out a tract (*shudder*), and informed us that she was going about the Plaza talking to people about Jesus. We quickly informed her that we were well taken care of, and chatted a bit about where we go to church, and what ministry she belongs to, and found out that there were a number of folks from this specific ministry roaming about the Plaza changing people's lives forever by giving them a poorly written comic book tract about judgement and dying. Wonderful. And so she skipped off on her way to find someone who needed Jesus. I'm sure there were plenty about. 5 minutes pass. Enter from stage left the lone employee of Scooters, coming outside to chain up the cafe tables and chairs for the night, unaware of the peril awaiting him. From around the bend come 2 more young women, bent on saving his eternal soul. Brief introductions follow. And then...that fateful moment..."We just wanted to ask you a question. If you were to die tonight, would you go to heaven?" I nearly fell off of the bench we were sitting on. Hold up. This guy has no idea who you are. Or what you're about. Much less do you know anything about him. What if he wakes up in the morning? Then what do you have to offer him? Oooh, I know! NOTHING. All you're armed with tonight is a salvation prayer. Said guy is completely weirded out. Tries to fend off the ladies. Finally, they walk off, patting themselves on the back for "planting a seed" in this poor, hapless young man. Ryan and I look at him. He looks at us. He laughs, still a little off balance from the ambush. Then he turns to us and says, "You know, I was all excited. I thought they were coming up to hit on me!" Poor guy, so sorely disappointed. We laughed with him, made a few jokes, and chatted a little. He offered us drinks. We turned him down, he went inside. We made a new friend. 10 minutes pass. Enter stage right, 2 young men. Ryan and I are getting ready to leave. They approach. They're better at this than the girls. "Is there anything we can pray for you for?" Nope, afraid not, thanks. And they head straight for the poor, lone, helpless guy in the coffee shop. You'd think we were about to witness a robbery, to see the urgency with which we followed them into the coffee shop, desperately hoping to save the poor guy from hearing yet another canned salvation offer. Once is bad enough. Twice in one night is about enough to render a body completely uninterested in Jesus, ever. No worries. He had his own defenses in place. Oh yes, this guy spouted profanity like a sailor, until the two guys (who were trying very hard to be cool, relevant, and approachable) were so obviously uncomfortable that the fled Scooters like it was hell itself. But not before giving me (not my husband, mind you) a personal word of prophesy. Which was WAY off base, in more ways than one, completely inappropriate, and super generic, since he wasn't sure whether or not I was saved. And before I could respond, he mumbled a "God bless you" and trotted off to the other side of the coffee shop, where he would never have to know if he was right or not. Shortly thereafter, they fled the scene. Ryan and I stayed, and miraculously the guy's swearing stopped. We joked, he gave us a free drink, and we went on our way. The next time he sees us, he'll be happy to chat. The next time he sees them, he'll run. Now, before you jump through your monitor and lambast me for being so terribly hyper-critical, please understand that I have nothing against these well-intentioned folks. They were nice. They tried. They were sincere. But seriously. They need some solid teaching and solid training, and a strong dose of common sense. Come on! This guy needs a real God, in his life right now, to help him, to rescue him, to come down and change everything and be his life. He doesn't need to go to heaven when he dies. He's dead right now anyway, so what does he care? That's not what he's crying out for. He's crying out for a God who is real, who is right now, who he can depend on, who will provide and heal and help and guide, who will move in his life tonight, today, tomorrow, forever. He doesn't need a far away God. He doesn't need the 4 spiritual laws. And what are you going to do with him after he says the prayer? Walk away, put another notch on your belt, and leave him with nothing. No way to learn, no way to grow, and no experience with God. Just a lame formulated prayer. You can't even give him a church to go to. And that floors me. And now we have to work even harder, to try to clean up the mess that was made, to touch his life. We don't want his prayer, we don't want his money, we want his whole life. Maybe a repeated prayer is good enough for them because it's all they've ever been taught, but that's not good enough for us. |
