Open Air: Fair-Weather Foes

Anyone who has been a believer for a while will have encountered fair-weather friends. They are the ones who hail you as the best thing since sliced bread when everything is going well and they can congratulate themselves for being on the side of the angels; but, when things go wrong, or if you dare to say or do something of which they do not approve, then they will be the first in line to stab you in the back and to encourage others to pile on as well.

I’ve met many such folk in churches over the years, and quite a number of such folk in the open air; but, today, we have an alternative form of opposition: a fair-weather foe.

Why “fair-weather foe”? Because, when the weather closes in, he’s nowhere to be seen, whereas (while our health and strength allow) we go out in all weathers, fair or foul. 

We’ve met him before. He’s tall, black, and bumptious, with his hair in carefully-tended cornrows, even though it’s going grey at the edges these days. His technique is simplicity in itself: wander round to where the gospel is being preached or to where evangelistic events are going on, set up a big speaker nearby, and waffle on at maximum wattage in order to disrupt the proceedings. 

Today he arrives just as I’m about to speak, so he parks his large loudspeaker across the tram tracks, facing our way, and begins blasting out - well, it’s hard to say what. He uses lots of religious language, along with references to cod psychology and sociology and black culture, and condemns anything and everything that takes his fancy. But every now and then, his real aim becomes apparent, as he cries: “Judaism is a LIE! Christianity is a LIE!” 

And it’s just me to take care of preaching duties today, since Stephen must be elsewhere.

For the next one hour and twenty minutes, it’s hard work. I have no trouble in speaking for far longer than that under normal conditions, since God chose to give me the experience of doing so in one of my previous lives. But, despite the fact that the average passerby hears only a minute or two of what we say, I believe in having a discernible structure and an argument to follow through in open air preaching (as does Stephen), so that someone who listens all the way through will not have to hear the same few points made over and over again. But that means constant concentration, which is not so easy when your ears are filled with fatuous verbiage at full volume.

I'm glad that I’m not alone: our friends Lorna and Veronica are with me, and Peter is doing sterling work in his usual pitch outside McDonald’s. This week they will all have time to come back to the Arndale for refreshments afterwards, where we will enjoy a time of fellowship together. 

Understandably, I don’t get much chance to talk to individuals today, but I have a most encouraging chat with R., a young woman who tells me that she has just finished a course at Faith Mission Bible College, training to work with that evangelistic organisation. Her mother joins us, and it’s clear that she does not share her daughter’s faith - but I get the opportunity to hand her a tract, which I encourage her to keep and to read when everything goes wrong and life turns to… And here she interrupts me, accusing me of being about to use bad language - which I wasn’t, of course, but it gives you an idea of her opinion of Christians. However, she takes the tract anyway.

Our kindly, elderly lady supporter appears again, offering another handful of silver “for your work”. Again, I thank her as warmly as I can, and send her off to give it to one of the ladies. Because of the public perception that there is a great deal of corruption in the Contemporary Christian Church, Stephen and I often point out that we don’t accept money for what we do - and, even in a case like this, consistency counts. 

Our opponent is still at it as we take our leave, and I wonder idly how long  he will go on for when we’ve gone. I also wonder what it is that drives him on. It can’t be much fun, being filled up to here with hate to that extent. Perhaps you might find a moment or two to pray that he might be released from whatever bondage he happens to be in. Perhaps you might also pray for R.’s mother, that she will eventually read the tract that she took, and come at last to share her daughter’s saving faith. 

If our Lord puts it upon your heart to do so, feel free to join us next Wednesday in the usual place and at the usual time. You will be most welcome.

Every blessing!