It began as a pretty uneventful night for street evangelism. Emmanuel and I were passing out tracks across from the Target store on 9th and Nicollet. After a few minutes I felt inclined to get up on the concrete bench and begin reading scripture. That's when everything changed.
After a couple of minutes I noticed a hooded figure moving toward me. I turned away from it and kept reading. Next thing I knew it was standing next to me and cursing me. It was some guy dressed up in a morbid attire, like some kind of zombie or something, and he was drunk and angry. I kept reading with my back to him. Then, some street girls who had been sitting nearby listening began to intercede and tell him to back off. Finally he did so. So I kept reading God's Word out loud.
I then noticed that just behind me were some other street people who looked like a group of the downtown alcoholics we see frequently. As I read the scriptures
one of them became very vocal and started shouting obscenities and threats at me. Emmanuel interceded and was talking to him in his very calm demeanor. But the guy was really, really angry. I have to admit the threats were getting to me, and I noticed my Bible was trembling in my hands. Then, another young woman interceded. She too had been sitting nearby and was listening, and she began telling the guy to quiet down because she wanted to hear what I was reading, and she repeatedly threatened to call the police.
Finally, the guy calmed down or left. I'm not sure which because about that time an old drunk in a wheel chair came around in front of me and started talking to me. For a while I kept on reading, thinking it was just another distraction of the enemy. But, gradually it became apparent that he really wanted to talk. His name is Juan.
So, I stopped proclaiming the Word, and got down on one knee to listen more closely to what he was saying. Between my bad ears and Juan's garbled talk I missed a lot at first, but I was picking up signs of a real desire to talk. So at that point I sat down and began a conversation with Juan.
Well, Juan's questions were all over the board - smatterings of religious ideas and Bible stories, from long ago perhaps. I took advantage of that to take Juan to the word and share gospel truths
with him. I opened my Bible to various passages and placed it before him so he could follow along as I read them to him. I was emboldened to talk straight up to him and tell him he needed to turn his life over to Jesus Christ. It was unclear how much was getting through, but he continued to act as though engaged.
At one point I asked him if he wanted to be saved, to be born again, and know Jesus Christ as his savior. He said he did. So I asked if I could pray for him. He said yes. So, both Emmanuel and I laid our hands on Juan and I prayed for him. I prayed that God would help him to choose Christ, that God would help him to repent, and bring him into being born again. After that, we continued to talk. Although, I didn't see any signs of dramatic change, Juan did seem to become more personally engaged in the conversation.
Well, here was Juan, a 65 year old drunk in a wheel chair. One arm missing from hopping trains. Both feet bandaged from lost toes due to frost bite and living on the street. I was very bold and spoke directly with him about his need for Christ, and told him that he needed to genuinely cry out to Him for salvation.
At one point I asked him where he stayed at night. He said he slept outdoors. I asked him if he needed a blanket. He said yes. So, I called another friend on my cell phone who was also downtown working with us, and asked him if he would bring one of the two blankets from his car that I'd brought that night. While the brother was on his way, Juan asked if we had a Bible we could give him.
Emmanuel handed him his little Bible, but I could see that the type was way too small for his old eyes (too small for mine too!). It occurred to me that my Bible had about the right size type for Juan to read. So I quickly cleaned it out and gave it to him, leather zip cover and all.
This is the same Bible I had with me at the "Zombie Pub Crawl," an evangelism outreach I had participated in with a group of believers from our church over a year ago. Once a year local bars in Minneapolis host this event, inviting their patrons to dress up as zombies and move from bar to bar on a wild drinking binge. While standing on a temporary lamp post, proclaiming God's Word at that event, my street Bible got beer and fake blood splattered on some of its pages from disgruntled drunken "zombies" who had climbed up to share the lamp post I was standing on. It also had a "
Don't Waste Your Life" a sticker on the leather cover. It was a well-used Bible with notations and underlinings on many of its pages. It was an old battle-worn friend of sorts. But, I felt like love demanded it this night. And, where love's expression is the cause, there is no loss.
Only time will tell if God is really getting hold of old Juan. One of our other evangelists said he'd also spoken with him in recent weeks, and on that occasion he had been hostile to the gospel. But, this night was different. Juan was asking questions about whether God would take him back after he'd turned away from him so many years ago. I assured him that God would do so, but that he needed to repent of his sin and cry out to God for help. My heart went out to him. Juan seemed to me to be on the last leg of his journey in this world and not far from facing God and eternity. I pray that God in his great mercy will give Juan to Jesus to be one of the sheep of his pasture.
Time to look for a new street Bible :D
Blessings brothers!
Dave Englund
