Don’t force faith; spread the “good news” quietly

By CLAIRE DONATO

As I was following my usual route down the Cathedral steps from my 10 a.m. class on Monday,… As I was following my usual route down the Cathedral steps from my 10 a.m. class on Monday, something unusual caught my eye. A three-paneled, white sign, being carried by an attractive blonde dressed in a cheerful, blue shirt, was hovering in midair.

Hmm, this is an unusual attempt to get students registered to vote, I thought as I continued walking. Better yet — I bet this woman is a representative for Michael Badnarik! What a tacky campaigning strategy. Oh well, I’ll have to grab complimentary stickers for my libertarian friends.

Ho-hum. I continued walking toward Bigelow Boulevard’s sidewalk, my eyes fixated on the sign. As I edged closer and closer to Blondie, I realized that her sign was not libertarian propaganda or a written encouragement to rock this year’s vote. No, no — this elevated monstrosity offered a different morning greeting to me.

“The only thing that matters is that hell awaits you.”

It’s funny how many ludicrous thoughts can run through one’s mind in the span of 15 seconds. After reading the words printed on this sign, I paused, contemplating the coming of the apocalypse. I envisioned myself flipping to CNN and witnessing the headline “Mass Chaos Breaks Out Worldwide: Details at 8:00” flicker across my television screen.

Babies crying, senior citizens rioting, teen-agers staring awkwardly — Satan himself descending from the sky (or, more likely, emerging from the Pittsburgh sewer system), decked out in a red, sequined corset and brandishing his legendary pitchfork. It was the end of the world as I knew it.

OK, maybe not. Nevertheless, as I finally reached Blondie’s resting spot, she screamed in my ear, drill-sergeant style, ordering me to “Know Jesus!” Her counterpart, another attractive 20-something woman, attempted to shove literature not in my hands, as would a kindhearted Gideon, but rather up my nose, nearly knocking her flying fist into my chin.

Let’s face it: Including the aforementioned, the brainwashing attempts I and many other students witnessed on Monday morning — including rude proselytizing and the invasion of students’ personal space — were completely ineffective and downright offensive.

Sure, these women managed to freak me out for a few seconds (something I am sure they meant to do), but after I realized what their purpose was, I was simply irritated, un-amused and experiencing severe ear pain. Like members of any other organization, religious zealots with intent to recruit or save should be more civilized in their techniques of persuasion.

Apparently, there were more religious sign-bearers floating around Oakland on Monday morning. If the same two women from Bigelow Boulevard and their God-fearing friends had set up a table in the Quad on Monday morning and addressed passersby in a classier fashion, they probably would have distributed much more literature. In fact, a few curious or unsure individuals questioning their own spirituality would probably have stopped by for a little enlightenment.

I realize that deep down these women were well intentioned. They just wanted to save a few immoral college students, those nonbelievers who could wind up in hell if they should happen to be hit by a car while crossing Bigelow. They believe so strongly in the idea that anyone who accepts Jesus as his or her savior will be “saved” and guaranteed a passage into heaven.

That said, Christians trying to inform nonbelievers about the benefits of a God-fearing lifestyle shouldn’t do so by breeding fear through displays of narrow-minded meanness, but rather through everyday demonstrations of genuine compassion. And, if faith-based literature must be distributed on campus in an attempt to spread “good news,” it should be done respectfully.

Claire Donato is a freshman who prefers it when people use their inside voices. Send feedback to [email protected].