Our Lady of the Coffee Shop
I am sitting here at a local Pacific Northwest Institution - the locally owned coffee shop enjoying their wares, a patio connection to the web and the prospect of the world going by that continually presents itself. Their are a couple of gentlemen holding court at the entrance greeting all the regulars and sharing truths accumulated over many years of endurance.
The most pleasant thing happened a few moments ago. A lovely lady dressed in lavender and wearing a bonnet with a matching lavender ribbon stopped by to give me a copy of "The Watchtower." If she's a day under eighty I'll eat my blog. But she like so many evangelists has given me the impression that she has a genuine concern for the final repose of my soul. In a way it's kind of sweet. I have always enjoyed inviting in those who knock on my door to introduce me to Jesus. I have over the years become quite a connoisseur of evangelism. It is easy to tell the ones who are in the "Hey it's really important that you believe what I believe to validate me and my faith for me" crowd. Here's my simple test. I tell them that I am a practicing Roman Catholic. They get this "Oh NO! face and become very urgent. Then I deliver the Coup de Grace to let them know I converted to Catholicism when I was in my early twenties. Then they really panic. "You mean it was a reasoned choice not just something your parents made you do?" Yep.
The majority of them however suddenly become very curious. They want to know what exactly that means, because depending on the particular strain of thought you follow it can be a very different experience.
Note: Those Catholics who try to tell people "they must do such and such or they're not Catholic" are of the aforementioned believe what I believe so I can feel better crowd.
They listen and tell you about their relationship with Jesus and generally wish you well in an open, accepting and rather... well... Christian way. In any case, those of you who need help with your faith should go to a selection, which I believe is from a gospel but may in fact be apocryphal; it goes like this "I believe Lord, help my unbelief." I know it helps me. I have enough trouble sorting out my own metaphysical crisis; I can't help you with yours. Which is why Lavender and her ilk amaze me. She has time to try to make sure I've sorted my stuff out and manages to make me believe it is of genuine concern to her. She has just abandoned her post on the sidewalk probably to find another spot. Good for her.
1 comment:
Interesting post. I read it right before I left for church this morning. I find it especially intriguing that people exist whose reactions to "street preachers" or "doorbell missionaries" isn't of the knee-jerk variety. I am guilty as charged of being one of these. Perhaps this will change, in time. I am back to attending the Lutheran church, the faith in which I was raised, though my parents only hauled us to church usually at Easter and Christmas. Only rarely did we go at other times during the year. I recently found a church to attend. It's quite conservative and traditional, which I really like, plus there's a weekly German service, which I find absolutely wonderful. Only yoga makes me feel as good as going to church does. There's a message in that, surely.
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