by John Stegeman

Nine days before Christmas I missed an opportunity to share my faith in Jesus.

I took a walk from my office to the downtown Cincinnati Kroger. Anyone familiar with the area knows that the space in front of Kroger attracts all kinds. Sometimes there are panhandlers, other times there are people seeking petition signatures. Generally, there’s always something to see for a people watcher.

On that chilly afternoon, I noticed a man approaching the space outside the front doors. He was large, a bit disheveled, used a mobility scooter, and–here’s what really got me–he had a megaphone. I slowed my walk to observe as he fumbled with a binder of notes and began talking.

I don’t know what I expected. I’ve seen many hellfire prophets downtown over the years so I assumed I would hear a booming voice telling me to repent (always good advice by the way). Instead, a unique cadence and tone came from the man that made it clear that speech was challenging for him. With his megaphone on, he began extolling the virtues of the Blood of Jesus Christ and its ability to save souls.

I thought to myself, “What courage!” Here was a man with limited mobility, diminished speech capacity and potentially other unknown struggles, placing himself on a busy street corner in December to share the Word of God as he understood it. In the time I saw him, he condemned no one to hell and he smiled as he spoke.

After a moment, he began to sing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” His voice wasn’t smooth or particularly pleasing, but it was honest. As I was walking away, he warbled, “O Come All Ye Faithful.” People bustled around him, avoiding eye contact. I saw a person or two snicker. Regrettably, I avoided him too. Even as no one seemed to listen, he spoke with hope.

As I got further away, I realized I missed an opportunity. I should have stopped to tell this man that, while we’re likely different stripes of Christian, I was moved by his witness. How neat would it have been if I’d joined him with my own unpleasant singing voice? It was a moment lost because I was too afraid and felt too busy.

Now, Jesus made it clear that preaching on street corners to be seen and praised is hypocritical. And I can’t know the inner disposition of the man, but I don’t think that’s what he was doing. From his eyes to his body language, it seemed he was moved by the Spirit to share hope.

Our Catholic faith doesn’t require us to street preach, but it does compel us to share the Good News. As Advent rolls toward Christmas, it’s good to remember to share our faith.
With family we often say, “Don’t talk politics or religion,” but during the season when we celebrate Christ’s incarnation as man, I think we can set the latter aside if we do it correctly, like this street preacher. When you share the faith, don’t condemn. Don’t judge. Don’t browbeat. Instead, share the love of God.

There’s a place and time for addressing sin and doctrinal differences or preferred worship styles, but those are not the best places to start. The man I saw exemplified 1 Peter 3:15-16: “Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope, but do it with gentleness and reverence, keeping your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who defame your good conduct in Christ may themselves be put to shame.”

As the season continues, let’s be on the lookout for opportunities to share the faith that brings up hope and joy. Let us pray that when those moments arrive, the Holy Spirit will give us the courage to do so.