Charlene Sargeant
Gospel preachers' tactics are not winning converts
Minding my own business, thumbs securely hooked onto my backpack straps, I strolled past Tommy Trojan. They were watching. I was cautiously dodging the noon rush of cyclists disobeying the "walk your bikes, please" warning, and the hordes of hungry upperclassmen. They were watching. I was an anxious freshman. They were a cult, and I mistakenly made eye contact. They pounced!
At first, only one ventured
in my direction with a prepared smile and a prearranged greeting. "Hi, you
must be new," she began. I suspected her ulterior motives to be those of
the usual campus salesperson, and I readied myself for the spiel on how I
could receive discounted Los Angeles Times issues, or a prepaid
calling card. Instead, she tried to sell God. It sounds harsh and
sacrilegious, but that was the bargain: join her "fellowship" and I would
experience the "Lord's companionship."I listened to her seemingly
harmless and momentarily soothing voice, and since witnessing other
encounters with these "bible cults," I've learned that an accomplice is
never too far in the background to prod the "victim" further. Suddenly, another voice
chimed in offering dinner and get-together invitations, and summoning me to
bible studies at hotels and other non-traditional places. At this point,
you usually tune out while searching for a believable but false excuse (or
list of excuses, depending on their persistence) as to why you
"unfortunately" can't participate. Now, as a sophomore, my
creativity is starting to wear thin, and having used the "sorry, I belong
to another church," or the "oops, did I forget to mention my background in
atheism," or the desperate "Outta my way, I gotta pee," excuses, they still
proceed to circle their prey.Having been raised in a
Christian household, I strongly support gathering in His name.
Nevertheless, I am opposed and offended by this wave of aggressive
evangelism, as I am sure are many others. Suddenly, it's as if the Lord's
word is being pushed like cars on a street corner lot. They spot you alone
or in a group, and with all sincerity, still come across like they're
working on commission, which, in the case of one very persistent group,
they are - the commission being their salvation. Of course, there are the
few who back off and accept your non-compliance, but these are very few.
According to a friend who
attended one of these bible studies, the meeting was an oddity. He was
questioned about his family's religious affiliation and background. He was
placed in discomforting situations that required responses to questions
such as "if your parents did not share your religious beliefs, would you
distance yourself from them?" These groups obviously hate being linked to
cults, but questions like this sound as though they'd be asked by David
Koresh.The point I am condemning
isn't so much the practice (because if you've gotten far enough to actually
join, then methods of practice are obviously approved), but the harassment.
This is not the most effective way to draw a positive following. Instead of
attracting students, this tactic repels them. Often, one's faith is too
intimate an issue to debate with an annoying salesman. It was bad enough at home
being subjected to my grandmother's obsession with the pseudo-Christian
antics of cable T.V.'s evangelist Benny Hinn, the lady with the big pink
hair, and the rest of the Trinity Broadcasting Network. I don't need it
here, too.Charlene Sargeant is a sophomore majoring in communications.