In the Wake of a Street Preacher

I was reading a book on the Staten Island Ferry while on my way to Lower Manhattan. I saw the police officers walking toward me but not to me -- they were looking at something behind me. Only then did I hear the voice. I turned to look over my shoulder. It was a street preacher, loudly proclaiming the gospel on the ferry. He was dressed as many other commuters in slacks and a collared shirt, but carrying a large black Bible in his hand and declaring to all within earshot that they were sinners in danger of judgment who needed a Savior.

I cringed inside and tried to focus on my book, waiting for the officers to tell him to stop. But they did not tell him to stop. They stood by in case anything else happened, but they let him keep going. Conversations became quiet and eventually stopped; it seemed that people were either listening to this preacher, or hoping that through their silence they would convince him to be silent as well.

As he continued to preach, I wrestled with what was happening inside of me. Truth be told, I was embarrassed. I live in a place in which evangelical Christianity is largely irrelevant, in which stereotypes of evangelicals as Bible-thumping religious crazies are alive and well. And I do not want to have to deal with overcoming hostilities in addition to those that inherently come with preaching Christ and Him crucified (I Cor 1:23; I Pet 2:8). If someone is going to take offense with me, let it be because of the gospel itself. I am not convinced that in a place such as New York City, this kind of street preaching does not do more harm than good. I have done my fair share of contact evangelism on boardwalks and in shopping malls and college dorms, so I thought I could say that my discomfort was with the effectiveness of this preacher's chosen method.

Or could I? How sure was I that my discomfort was not because I did not want to be inconvenienced myself, because I did not want to deal with snide comments made by those sitting next to me, because I did not want to identify with that man carrying that Bible speaking in that loud voice? Did that mean that I was also embarrassed to identify publicly with Christ and His gospel? My heart is wicked (Jer 17:9), and if even the apostle Peter could stumble (Matt 26:69-75; Gal 2:11-13), then I have much reason to mistrust my own motives.

Here is my question for anyone who is reading: What would you have done or felt? I began to pray that some on that boat would hear this preacher's words, fall under conviction of their sins, and trust in Christ. And I steeled myself for comments that passengers sitting near me might make -- I was prepared to say that while I was uncomfortable with the method, I fully embraced the message. No comments came. Eventually I went back to my book. But my wrestling with what was happening in my heart continues.