Taking it to the People

Once again I've been out and about spreading the Good News.

Frisby-on-Soar is a quietish place during the day. So I've been targetting (I hate to use the word, but that's what my "Non-conformists' guide to Holy Evangelism" said) the town of Market Harborough. Now I know it's a way across the county, but consider - it's very posh, for the Midlands. Just the sort of people we need to hear the Gospel.
So I caught the bus down there with the new Gospel Proclamation apparatus that has been put together by Basil, one of our deacons. In essence, it's a Citizens' Band microphone, with an amplifier with built-in speaker and a 12V Car battery. Quite handy to lug short distances, but you'd not want to go a long way with it.

So I'm standing outside the Sugar Loaf, trying to enlighten people to how they are in danger of perdition. But truly they were as the brazen serpent, which does not hear no matter how wisely it is charmed.
"People of Harborough," I called, "repent - flee from the coming wrath of the loving Mighty One, enthroned among the cherubim above the Holy Ark."

No response. So I went outside the Museum and attempted to dissuade people from entering.  Did you know that Market Harborough is the home of the Liberty Bodice? The thought that the men going into the Museum were enjoying the quick thrill of a glimpse at ladies' undergarments chills one to the core. So I reasoned with them, and they ignored me.  Eventually one of the assistants moved me on.

Shaking the dust from my feet, I returned to the town centre and was calling out a warning like that of Jonah when I saw young Jimmy walking out of Zizzi with his girlfriend. I mentioned to him that his eczema was looking much better, and clearly he had been refraining from whatever heinous sexual sin he had been engaging in.

In retrospect it was a mistake. Talking to Jimmy wasn't the mistake - that was my pastoral responsibility. No. It was not switching off the microphone that was a mistake.

Jimmy went quite pale, and his girlfriend landed a punch smack in my face. At which point I decided my day's evangelism was at an end. Once you're being persecuted, surely your witness is complete.  And also, all the blood from my nosebleed went over my guide to evangelism.