Polite Company

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Disbelief was all I felt when I turn the corner in the subway to get on my designated track. This, in spite of the two hour allowance I gave  for this trip I still find myself among this mad crowd, footsteps outpacing one another, fixed stares, suspecting glances. Among them I try  not to be “with them”, that is, I stay in my zone of peace and calm, taking my deep breath to go with my every step. A few steps ahead my eye caught this tall, decent looking man in his late 30’s, white shirt, black tie and  black pants walking from one side to another with pamphlet on hand,  his lips moving, from a distance. As I get closer his words get clearer,

“We need Jesus in our lives!” as he paces from one side of the tunnel wall to the other as if cutting the flow of the crowd trying to establish a temporary audience in a moment. People passing by, no one bothered to stop, while on the corner I saw a hat turned upside down with a couple of bills inside. As my turn came up getting closer to him he was on he other side, issuing similar thought but changing the subject and the predicate and another subject and predicate.  I’d imagine the original apostles, inexperienced, poor, unschooled fishermen, in their robes and stuff going around the ancient cities, the spirit of God with them, talking in foreign tongues in front of masses and people instantly converted. While some people are laughing they have no fear or hesitation with their work even until they’re maimed and imprisoned.

Which is probably what’s in this preacher’s mind. Enduring silent ridicule to spread the word of God.  Very apostle like. Doing a very noble work. His job is to deliver the message, who gets converted is the work of God alone. And He works in mysterious ways. Ok. Should I stop and listen?  But the devil also uses God’s word.  God knows when and where his message gets across.  I tried to listen to what he’s saying but there was nothing new, there was no spirit in his words. Or was it me who didn’t have the spirit.  I pass by, other people pass by, one fellow drop a dollar.

The only time I see people stop and listen to subway performers are when they’re singers or dancers as I do, too. But not for long because I have to go home.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Polite Company.” It’s never a good idea to discuss religion or politics with people you don’t really know.

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