Louise
Two days ago, Tom pulls this flyer off the porch. I try to read over his shoulder. “What is it?’ I say. “Nothing,” he says, and balls the paper inside his fist, then chucks it into the trash can.
But I’ve seen the first couple of lines. “Wait,” I say. “I want to read it.” I uncrinkle the page and read the above.
“Wow, someone’s not very happy with us,” I say. “Shouldn’t ‘he’ be capitalized?”
“Grammar and punctuation wasn’t this person’s first priority,” Tom says.
“The tone is kind of bossy,” I say. “Makes me feel like stoning someone.”
In Manhattan, the black lady, who preached to my car on the A train more than once took a much more restrained tone. She spoke softly but continuously until she got off at 145th Street. She predicted the second coming and encouraged us to repent and put our lives in order, as the Bible tells us to do. She cited scripture and verse, one after another, all memorized. I always listened attentively watching her face. She was neatly dressed and well-kempt, but people looked away from her mouth and its prophecies and warnings. I always thought, I believe everything this woman is saying. I believe it. But does she have to be so weird about it? This is the A train for heaven’s sake. We just want to go home in peace.
Calling people to repentance has never been cool. Unfortunately.
There’s a precedent for prophetic lunacy. Prophets living in caves and eating locusts and honey or standing on walls and yelling down at people, arms flailing, or marrying prostitutes, or not marrying at all and telling the rest of us not to either, unless we can’t keep our libidos in check; or that one man with several wives is okay; but then later it isn’t okay.
Still, they are prophets, so even with this crazy neighborhood flyer, I have to stop and ask, am I letting Satan in?
I don’t like being called to repentance anonymously. It seems kind of chicken. Jesus always identifies himself: I am Alpha and Omega. I am the Light of the world. I am the bread of life. I Am.
I am Louise Plummer. I need to repent every second of my life and am grateful for the grace of God that allows me to do that. Maybe I’ll make a flyer






25 comments
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May 7, 2009 at 9:07 am
smylies
So so true! I always feel self-conscious for believing what they’re saying. The other night levi and I were talking about the end of the world. I told him I was glad I could talk to him about something that to most people, sounded so crazy. “It IS crazy,” he said. “Crazier, we actually believe it.”
Loved this post.
May 7, 2009 at 9:26 am
Annie
Great post, and that ending paragraph? Perfection. Sums up life beautifully. That’s the kind of thing that should be shared on the A train…
May 7, 2009 at 10:06 am
Bridget
Great post. I always get awkward when I hear a painfully weird testimony. All the gospel may be technically correct but if someone starts to spontaneously sing or throw their hands up or speak from their seat, I want to crawl out of my skin in embarrassment. I know this wasn’t the point of the post, but sometimes I wish I was more generous with the gospel on the A train.
May 7, 2009 at 10:22 am
Leanna
Once I was talking to a man in the park about repentance. I thought, “hey, this guy is crazy, but we are on the same page about a lot of this stuff.” Then he started telling me how the Mormon church forced him to cut off his you-know-what and I realized he was just crazy. I haven’t had a lot of tolerance for street preachers after that. I loved this post.
May 7, 2009 at 10:22 am
Katy
There’s always a collection of soul savers on the outskirts of the Mesa temple. I tell my kids to be nice, kind, and to smile at them when we walk by. “They want to save us like we want to save them.” I whisper. “Look how much they love the Lord, standing out here in the hot sun, praising His name.” Then I always telll them that we need be better. I’m making a flyer right now. It’s the perfect activity for f.h.e.
May 7, 2009 at 10:37 am
sharry
we don’t have A trains here in gilbert, az…we barely have a bus system…but we do have street corners, and stop lights and every so often even a zealot with a megaphone calling us all to repentance. and while i almost always agree with the words they shout i often have trouble accepting them because i question their source, and the spirit of their delivery. but then i get to thinking, and i wonder if the people around me know how excited and inspired i am by my faith and my understanding of my relationship with God…i am more of an under-a-bushell type gal…and i realize who am i to question their sincerity and their willingness to atleast attempt to do what i am afraid to. lunacy notwithstanding.
May 7, 2009 at 11:01 am
Sarah
Lunacy notwithstanding. Loved that, Sharry.
I’m thinking about this idea that Christ always announces himself. I should do better about announcing myself–and bringing it especially when I’m trying to save others.
I’m Sarah Olson, and I so rarely have any idea what I’m talking about, except I know know that I am happier when I am keeping the commandments of God. Or trying to.
May 7, 2009 at 12:04 pm
Carla
religion can be so awkward… last sunday at church was a prime example. my body was clenched and i was squeezing my husband’s arm for the majority of the meeting because i just felt so awkward and nervous about the testimonies being given.
sometimes i think people in general try to restrain themselves so much from feeling in their every day lives, that when they actually feel something -like an honest to goodness feeling from a loving God, or truly believing in something firmly in their hearts – then they come across awkward or scared or nervous because their normal amount of comfort is gone (or at least subsided for a moment.) i think that’s why in testimony meetings so many people cry or are overcome with emotions… because they are allowing themselves to do something that they can’t do on an A train surrounded by strangers – express and openly feel.
i admire people that can talk about God in public forums. i very rarely do it outside of a chapel, and i think that woman on the A train has real cajones… regardless if i believe everything she has to say.
great post Louise.
May 7, 2009 at 12:10 pm
abbie white
Loved this. I don’t usually get a reminder to repent while laughing.
May 7, 2009 at 12:26 pm
Ruth
We just moved, but we used to live around 145th right off of the A train. That woman was my neighbor. I wonder if she ever came and knocked on our door.
May 7, 2009 at 1:19 pm
Jenna
I really needed this today. For reasons that wouldn’t be understood by most. But I feel better.
May 7, 2009 at 1:43 pm
sunny
That flyer is a treasure. And so is your post.
May 7, 2009 at 1:44 pm
shelley
I think this is why Christian radio gives me the heebie geebies. And why I am secretly bugged that Charlotte named a highway after Billy Graham.
May 7, 2009 at 1:54 pm
allysha
Stories like this make me think of Flannery O’Connor’s Revelation. And it may take a certain kind of crazy to get the miracles we need. And I try to be open to that, although my innate personality may not be comfortable with it.
Make up that flyer. I’ll go back with you to NYC and help deliver them on the A train.
This was a really nice post.
May 7, 2009 at 3:59 pm
Angelique
also, it should be “you’re letting Satan win” not “your letting Satan win”
May 7, 2009 at 6:32 pm
kristen
Phrases like, “gnashing of teeth”, “change of heart”, “stiffneckedness”, “FEEL the spirit” etc., etc. have always puzzled me. Why do they come up so often? You just made me realize that whether negative or positive, spirituality/craziness often causes a physical reaction.
May 7, 2009 at 6:55 pm
lisapiorczynski
Louise,
No one knows how to end a post better than you do. Great post.
May 7, 2009 at 7:01 pm
Sarah6
The period missing from your last sentence is awesome
May 7, 2009 at 11:03 pm
kristen
Amen
May 8, 2009 at 1:06 am
Zina
I loved everything about this post.
May 8, 2009 at 2:31 am
Traci
I think that the crazy guy and I need to get together, maybe we could make tinfoil hats or something, because I found the opening line Wake Up Daybreak he is coming – lyrical and lovely.
I’ve been kind of wondering along these lines lately, is the price for being your arms-flung-open-genuine self that you must also be (or be percieved as) a complete nutter?
May 10, 2009 at 6:22 pm
Caroline
“I don’t get excited by elephants at the zoo, I don’t like cartoons just because they are cartoons, and reality has killed my dreams.”
…This is one of the saddest lines I have ever read.
May 11, 2009 at 1:54 pm
karisa
Louise, you are a better version of Andy Rooney. I’m with you, girl.
May 14, 2009 at 8:21 am
kathryn Whiting
So honest, real & true. One of my very favorites.
July 19, 2009 at 2:34 am
Tango
“We have some old crab-trees here
at home that will not
Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors:
We call a nettle but a nettle and
The faults of fools but folly.”
(Coriolanus II.1)