Mark Johnston, Connections Pastor
“We’re going to Costa Rica!”
At least that’s what we thought.
In June of 2015, our family was set to go on an overseas mission trip to Costa Rica. We had gotten passports, packed clothes we could get dirty, or even leave behind if we wanted to, and settled into a hotel on the fringe of DFW, where we could pay to spend one night, and leave our van for the week without springing for a parking garage at the airport. (My wife knows how to save us some money!)
Tropical Storm Bill was active in the Gulf of Mexico, and we were scheduled to fly to some city in Florida, and then catch another plane to Central America. The morning of the flight, we woke up, had breakfast, then got a call saying our plane was delayed because of the storm.
Then it got delayed again. And again. So we grabbed some lunch in Grapevine, piddled around some more north of the airport and then got the dreaded call saying the flight was cancelled. Dick Patterson, who organized the trip, tried to get us on a flight on another airline, since Spirit Airlines, who had already been bad to deal with, was less than zero help at this point*, until we all finally realized we weren’t going to Costa Rica.
Our kids, who were 15 and 13 at the time, were so disheartened. Having losers like us for parents, they’d actually never been outside the state of Texas before, so they were looking forward to setting foot on some foreign soil…and doing some ‘mission stuff’ too.
Angie and i decided that since i had 10 days off work, and everything covered on the worship team, we might as well go somewhere, so we drove to Love Field that evening, and picked Phoenix off the board. $99 each and we’d figure out something to do once we got there.
After surviving the ‘10PM and still feels like a pizza oven’ surprise when the automatic doors opened at PHX; the next morning, dressed like Costa Rican missionaries, we went to the front desk of the hotel and asked what sights there were to see. They rattled off a few things— Sedona, the Grand Canyon…all the Arizona spots, when the front desk girl said ‘you know it’s only 6 hours to Los Angeles, right?’
Twenty minutes later, the four of us were in a Sonata pulling out of a rental car parking lot, headin’ to the coast.
We made some fun stops along the way—recreated a U2 pic from The Joshua Tree sleeve
for our family Christmas card using an iPhone and a tennis shoe for a tripod on the roof of the car in 117 degree heat at Joshua Tree National Park. We ate some really bad pizza at a place we have agreed to never talk about, and ended up in Hollywood, on the walk of fame, outside of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, or whatever it’s called these days.
On the corner of Hollywood and Vine, there was a man with a megaphone, who apparently felt called by God to yell at the top of his lungs to anyone who was unable to tune him out. He informed each of us that we were bound for hellfire and damnation…apparently just for being tourists on Hollywood Blvd.
Doing the Lord’s work.
Having the complete opposite effect that God intended, if He had indeed called the man to be his mouthpiece there.
It’s no wonder that the Scientology Center across the street is such a big deal in California. Nobody yells at you at the Scientology Center. At least not at the first meeting.
Anyway, that guy has always bothered me. I really wanted to ask him why he was yelling, but i couldn’t get close enough to talk to him, because of the volume of his megaphone. But i’m betting he’s turned more people off the the gospel of Christ than he has won ‘converts.’
‘Cause the day we were there, he was running behind about 10,000 to zero.
I used to know a young man who wore those radical ‘Christian’ T-shirts. The ones that say ‘Turn or Burn’—that sort of thing. He was a guitar player, and i always tried to get him to buy a shirt that said ‘Gibson’ or ‘Fender,’ the big electric guitar brands. Every time i wore my own Fender shirt out in public, some dude would come up and say ‘hey, you play guitar?’ and i’d get the opportunity to say something like, ‘yeah, i’m on the worship team at my church’ and get to ask questions about his faith. Sometimes, they’d run…but sometimes they wouldn’t, and i had some good conversations with people just because of our common interest.
Nobody ever approaches you if your shirt says ‘YOU’RE GOING TO HELL’ in big, capital letters.
I don’t know—i feel sorry for the guy with the megaphone. His message is important—eternal truth that the world needs to hear, especially a lot of the people on the streets of Los Angeles. But the message was falling on deaf (and ringing) ears because of his delivery.
Fire and brimstone led to my wife getting ‘saved’ at the age of 12 at her little church in West Virginia. But a relationship with Jesus didn’t come until much, much later, because nobody walked beside her and explained what it looked like. Somebody to say ‘i’m sorry your family is poor, and that your dad left, but God is a father that will never leave you or forsake you.’ Someone to point the way to a little girl with trust issues, to a loving father that she could trust with her eternity. Someone to say ‘i may not always be here, but God always will.’
But hellfire and brimstone megaphone guys don’t have time for that. They’re too busy yelling.
I’m reminded of a song by Randy Stonehill that said “I was standing on the corner by the marketplace/ When a fellow with some leaflets shoved one right in my face/ Well he poked me with his Bible like it was a loaded gun/ And I said ‘whatever it is your selling, man, I don’t want none’” (Randy Stonehill—Through the Glass Darkly)
So how ‘bout this—let’s put aside the tracts and amplification and invite our friends to coffee and talk to them. Maybe they’re not even unbelievers, but folks you know could be in a deeper fellowship with Jesus than they are right now, and simply have a conversation. Find out where they’re at. Find out their hurts. Find out what’s keeping them from the kind of relationship they need with Him, and share what He’s doing in your life.
If the answer to that is ‘nothing, right now’ then let’s fix that problem before you go to them. Stonepoint has several Bible reading plans available at http://stonepointchurch.com/resources/bible-reading-plan. This life doesn’t last forever. Ask anyone over 50 and they’ll tell you how short it really starts looking.
I pray for the guy on Hollywood Blvd. I pray that he will put down the megaphone, turn down the volume, and simply walk up to a person and say ‘hey—let me tell you what Christ has done for me.’ Softly. Rising above the din of noise, and traffic and the numbing roar of life on the street.
And that someone will finally listen.
Megaphone Image via Shutterstock. Joshua Tree pic by Angelia Johnston.
*-The opinions expressed about Spirit Airlines solely represent those of the individual author, and do not reflect the feelings of Stonepoint Church, or the Lord, who loves all air carriers equally. Even the horrible ones.