Engaging Street Preachers

 I usually pass street preachers by because I have already answered the call, but I always wonder how many people are reached by their methods. The methods vary as evangelism should because what works for one person might turn another person off. What worked for me was receiving a New Testament from a Gideon and several books from Christian girl friends in college who had been touched by the Campus Crusade for Christ. What did not work was the man with a megaphone warning me of my impending doom. In a way, he was right, but his approach rubbed me the wrong way.

Over at the Catholic Herald, Heather Tomlinson wrote about this in a post titled, "In defence of US-style street evangelism: as seen on streets of Hull in rain or shine" that presents the central question we must ask ourselves when we see the street preacher, 

So, before any of us deign to criticise a street preacher for their message, manner or fondness for conspiracy theories, we might ask ourselves, Well, what I am doing to help people find faith in Christ, including those in our own society who have barely heard His name except as a swear word?

Street evangelism can help people come to faith. Once I met someone who was converted to Christian belief almost on the spot – from atheism – after merely listening to someone reading from the Bible on the street.

For those of us who have a quieter spirit, there are less overt means to reach people on the streets than megaphones. One such Catholic ministry has been out on those same Hull streets every month for eleven years, rain or shine.

This team of mostly women has a particular approach – smiling. Holding a picture of the Divine Mercy image alongside the offer “Would you like a free Rosary?”, this group of faithful Catholics aims for a gentle witness, offering prayer, miraculous medals and booklets to those who pass by.

“Do you have a faith?” they ask those who stop, and listen to the response rather than arguing with it.

It’s a subtler, more gentle approach that was part inspired by the network St Paul Street Evangelisation, which has nearly 200 groups listed across the US, though only a handful abroad.

Hull is not the easiest place to share the faith. The 2021 Census recorded that 49 per cent of the population considered themselves to have no religion, and the Yorkshire area has one of the lowest proportions of Catholics in the UK. Yet these friendly women meet little resistance in their non-confrontational approach.

I was there as an onlooker but I couldn’t help but compare the experience with these patient, listening ladies to my decade spent in Protestant evangelicalism, where I had taken part in many different methods of sharing the gospel: from gentle offers of prayer to street preaching, and even offering fruit (to symbolise the message of the fruits of the spirit being spread). 

The latter type of style was described as “street chaplaincy” by Protestant minister Chris Duffett, who took to the streets of the English city of Peterborough regularly with a gentle message of Christ using creativity. Once he brought a sofa to the city centre, and sat down with a sign: “I will listen.”

During all these experiences I was surprised how open and interested many of the passersby were. In Hull too, the offer of prayer was willingly accepted by many: those with health concerns, the worry etched in their faces; the bereaved, who shed tears; young children were interested in the colourful plastic rosaries; and many of faithful stopped to say hello and “well done” or “thank you”.

The next time I see a street evangelist praying with someone or offering a gentle, nonamplified call, I just may stop and give them a high five.