Art was a little reticent about handing out a million-dollar bill Gospel tract on his first foray to the Redondo Beach Pier with the evangelism team. A group of twenty invaded the area with the intention of sharing the Gospel verbally or with tracts, but Art hung off to the side, waiting, waiting… for the right opportunity maybe?
I saw his forlorn face and chose to rescue him from his dilemma knowing that if he just “broke the ice” by handing out his first bill, it would be downhill from there. Besides, there was no guarantee that the people who didn’t receive these messages of eternal life on a phony million would live to see another day, and possibly Art would have the opportunity to save someone from the clutches of Hell!
“Art!” I shouted. “Did you hand one out yet?”
“Uh… no, not yet,” he replied meekly.
“Come over here!” I barked. “See that guy over there? Go give him a tract. Don’t be afraid; but I’ll tell you right now, he’s not going to take it.” Sometimes I can tell by a person’s expression if they are ready to receive the good news or not. Still, we are all equal opportunity Hell-savers, and this guy certainly looked like he was headed there; I have a sixth sense about these things, don’t ya know.
Art dutifully stepped forward, his million-dollar bill shaking like a leaf in his out-stretched hand. “Dddid you get one of these?” he stammered, inviting the man with the sour expression to be a partaker of eternal life by simply taking this message of salvation and believing it.
Not this time.
“Get that piece of *&%#!*! out of here!” he warned. “And get the *&%#!*! away from my shop!”