Ah, the Street Preacher. So much to say about God. So much Jesus inside of each and every cell. And then there’s this guy:
Notice the rapt crowd. See how the vision of God conjured by our man on the street has them just falling to their knees. As a preacher he is a failure. As a human roadblock, he does a much better job:
It might help if the man spoke English, or had something else going for himself besides that snazzy tan shirt and a neatly trimmed beard. He has the same book in his hand day after day, with the same gibberish printed inside it. If he ain’t actually preaching out loud, nobody’s going to learn. After all, who has time while they’re rushing through Times Square to stop and read some misspelled mess in a dirty old book?
I’ve walked by this guy tons of times and only once saw somebody stop to talk to him. I want to believe that he actually got a convert, or passed some pearl of wisdom to that poor soul, but more likely than not the guy was just asking how to get to ESPN Zone.
