My wife called to me, “Honey! There are some men at the front door!”
I rushed at the opportunity; I suspected that I knew who these men were: Jehovah’s Witnesses! Now most normal people would be glad to see these cultists move right along; not me! I wanted the chance to strike up a conversation and see what would happen.
I almost missed them because they were walking away, down our front steps, ready to move across the street. “Excuse me! Did you want something?” I called out coyly.
One man returned, the other stayed at the bottom of the steps. After a friendly handshake the man gave me one of those cheesy looking tracts with the pastel colors and black people frolicking in a meadow. I took it from him and handed him my tract: a million-dollar bill.
After a brief exchange I asked if he had ever lied, stolen, blasphemed, or lusted in his heart. He admitted to breaking all those comandments except blasphemy. “By your own admission, you are a lying, thieving, adulterer-at-heart and you have to face God on Judgment Day. If he was to judge you based on the standard of the 10 commandments, would you be found innocent or guilty?”
“That would be for God to decide.”
“But you are guilty right now…”
After a gentle back and forth, and my admission of belief in the Trinity he said, “The Buddhists believe in a Trinity too.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
Then he asked, “Are you an opposer?”
“An opposer? No. I’m a Pastor.”
I handed back his pastel colored Watchtower literature with the frolicking black people in the meadow. I couldn’t get anywhere with this guy; I couldn’t convince him that he would have to pay for his sin in Hell forever if found guilty. At least he had the Million-dollar bill Gospel tract; maybe he would read it later. He wouldn’t.
He handed it back and beat a hasty retreat across the street.
Pastor Steve the Opposer.
I like the sound of that.