The naysayer says it’s a waste of time to preach to people on street corners because no one is listening. The store owner says he’s bad for business. The timid Christian is embarrassed by what he says. Nevertheless, we do it.
Here’s “Righteous Richard” preaching at a shuttle bus stop in Hermosa Beach durng last weekend’s Fiesta Hermosa, a pagan street fair where around 100,000 attend during Labor Day weekend.
Notice the guy hanging outside the window. He wasn’t happy at all about what was being preached. He bellowed. He growled. Richard ignored him. The Gospel is much too important; so he preached on, unintimidated.
Ridiculous you say! What good does that type of preaching do anyway?
Read what Charles Spurgeon (1834 – 1892), wrote:
You that preach in the streets, go on preaching Him. I saw a man preaching the other day with no creature but one dog to listen to him, and I really thought that he might as well have gone home. But I met with a story yesterday, which I know to be true, and it showed me that I was making a mistake. There was a woman who for years had been is such dreadful despair that she would not even hear the gospel.
She became very ill, and she said to one that called on her, “You sent a man to preach under my window 3 months ago, and I got a blessing.”
“No,” the friend said, “I never sent anyone to preach under your window.”
“Oh,” she said, “I think you did, for he came and preached, and my maid said that there was no one listening to him. I did not want to hear him; and as he made so much noise , my maid shut the window, and I lay down in bed; but the man shouted so that I was obliged to hear him; and I thank God he did, for I heard the gospel, and I found Christ. Did you not send him?”
“No,” said the good man, “I did not.”
“Well,” she said, “then God did. There was nobody in the street listening to him; but I heard the gospel, and I got out of my despair, and I found the Savior, and I am prepared to die.”
Fire away, brethren! You do not know where your shot will strike, but “there’s a billet for every bullet.” (That is, there’s a home for every sermon.)
—From Spurgeon Gold, compiled by Ray Comfort
On Thursday, I’ll report about what happened to me and and a guy from Australia. It wasn’t pretty.