7:57 am
The doorbell rang again, this time followed by 3 sharp knocks. I rolled on my back and sighed and wondered if my roommate was going to answer it, I doubt it. With no haste I pulled back the covers and sat up, legs dangling over the side of the bed. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. The doorbell rang again, this time twice in a row, and the knocks seemed a little louder. I stood up and shuffled my way down the hall, not bothering to put my house shoes on all the way. I unlock the door and swing it open, still feeling a little grouchy.
“Can I help you?” I ask, with a little bit of edge in voice. I wanted to make sure that this intruder knows they are not catching me at the ideal moment of my morning.
“Have you heard the good news?” The man on my front porch asks me with a southern drawl. He is a tall thin man, maybe in his late thirties. He has a big crooked smile on his face and his eyes are opened wider than I thought was possible.
“Does the good news say anything about you providing breakfast tacos and coffee?” I ask sarcastically.
“No sir, but Jesus loves you and wants to save your soul!” As he said this he raised his bible above his head with eyes closed and face looking up.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask.
“Sure about what, sir?” He lowers his Bible, opens his eyes and looks at me, confused.
“Jesus, loving me and wanting to save me, are you sure about that?” I ask with a smirk.
“Of course I am, don’t you believe?” He asks.
“Did you ask him about loving me and saving me?” I am now leaning against my door jamb my hand behind my back.
“Did I ask Jesus? Well, no, but I know what he wants.” His arms are spread wide, one hand still holds the Bible the other I notice he has a cross on a golden chain.
“What church are you from, anyway?”
“His Holy Voice on Main and 1st street.” He replies, bringing his hands back down to his sides.
“Denomination?”
“We are a non-denominational Christian society, founded on the belief that those that worship can be saved.” This time the smile returned to his face, and he spread his arms again. I wasn’t sure if he was about to take flight, or if he thought he was feeling the Holy Spirit.
“So you are sheep without a shepherd?” These religious types always use sheep analogies to get their point across I thought it a good idea to turn the tables.
“No sir, we have a shepherd, he is Jesus, but the lands in which we graze have no fences.” He smiles when he says this looking right into my eyes.
“That’s pretty profound.” I’m a little dumbstruck, with his southern drawl and crooked smile and poor choice in the time of day to visit, I assumed him to be in the shallow end of the IQ pool.
“That’s our faith, sir.”
“Do they pay you to do this?” I try to switch to a new train of thought, I was nervous that I might just lose an ideological battle with this guy, and I was in no mood to lose on my own front porch.
“No sir, I volunteered.”
“Do you have regular job?”
“I do odd jobs around the church when I am not preaching the Good Word of the Lord, Amen!” He’s back to raising his arms, looking upwards, eyes closed.
“Have you always been a religious man?”
“No sir. I was a sinner, I tell you! I lied, I cheated, and I stole! I took our Lord’s name in vain, and coveted…well everything I didn’t have. I make no excuses for what I’ve done. I only hope that our Lord will forgive me and allow me to enter into his kingdom.” I’m thinking he is about to go to his knees right here on my porch and start praying.
“So how do I get in?” I asked, impressed and interested in this man’s level of commitment.
“You must accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior and repent.”
“Is there another way to get in? Like a backdoor or something? A loophole maybe?” I’m smiling now, thinking to myself how funny I think I am. But I can see by my Holy friend’s face he is not seeing the humor.
“Sir, your soul is not something you should joke about, your salvation is in danger!” His brows are furrowed and he looks equal bits concerned and angry. I laugh out loud, which wasn’t a very polite thing to do, but his conviction was entertaining to say the least.
“Trust me, my salvation is not in danger and neither is yours for that matter. And God jokes with us all the time.”
“Yes it is! All of our souls are in dire straits! As a former sinner I can see you, for who you are! You are a sinner yourself! You must repent! Or you will burn, so help me God, you will burn in the pit of despair for eternity with the rest of the sinners and you'll learn that God is not one for jokes!" Now he’s mad and his once open hand was now a clenched fist and he shook it at me as he talked.
“I know for a fact that God loves jokes, just look at the duck billed platypus, think he was serious when he made that? Look, I appreciate what you are trying to do here. And I know that he does too.” I point with my thumb upwards to make sure we’re on the same page. “But I think God has his own plans and his own view of the world. I don’t believe that he looks at us through the eyes of a human when it comes to salvation.” I stand up straight and cross my arms, satisfied with my argument and preparing to head back inside. I could feel this conversation coming to an end.
“I hope the Lord forgives you, have a blessed day.” He turns and stomps off my porch.
“Don’t worry, he will!” I call after him. I turn and walk back inside, closing and locking the door behind me.
“Who was that?” Comes the voice of my roommate coming out of his room his long hair still a mess.
“A guy trying to sell me church.” I say as I head to the coffee pot.
“Did you buy any?” He says with a chuckle, taking a seat at the table.
“He was pretty convincing, I’ll admit. I should have brought you out to meet him. I’d like to have seen his reaction to you face to face.”
“He wouldn’t have believed it. I would’ve had to prove it. And I get so tired of proving who I am when I come down here to visit.” He says shaking his head and running his fingers through his long beard.
“Well speaking of which, the coffee pot is busted. Can you change this water into coffee?” I ask handing him the coffee pot full of tap water.
“Sure can. I always thought coffee was better than wine anyway.”
