The Baptists come a'knockin'

For the last year, I've been treated to a sight that was, I admit it, rather sweet to

Not Coronado Baptist Church in Tucson, which is kinda ugly. Image by J. Stephen Conn via Flickr

my atheist eyes:  a For Sale sign on the Baptist church across the street from my apartment complex. It's one of those small jobs, the ones that always seem to have pastors with Ph.D.'s (from what kind of school, one can only shudder to imagine) and promise on their signs to Preach Christ Risen. It even had a school. But bad times hit -- apparently a not uncommon phenomena in Church Land at the moment -- and they went away. And so the building sat, forlorn and empty, with only a little For Sale sign for company.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. A few weeks ago, the sign disappeared, and distressingly churchy activities could be seen, right down to the arrival of one of those old white school buses you only seem to see at churches. What, did the Christians go and buy up every old white school bus in the country?

Yesterday was, I guess, their coming out party. Which meant that Saturday, I was treated to a visit from some Baptists lookin' for butts to fill the pews.

First, let me say this: they were perfectly polite and friendly, left quickly when I told them I wasn't interested, didn't even press literature into my hands, and it wasn't heinously early. But.

I just don't know how to deal with this stuff anymore. Or, rather, I guess I should say, I don't know, exactly, how I feel about it. I mean, on one hand, just get out of my face, right? I don't go knocking on your door to tell you the Good News of the Godless Universe. It seems a bit rude. I think that may have to do with the fact that it is in this kind of evangelism -- the door to door, out in the streets talking to strangers kind of thing -- that we are confronted with the fact that, however nice these people are, they are doing this because they think I'm going to hell. And yeah, there's part of me, especially on a Saturday morning, that's pretty much "Right back at ya, buddy!"

But then again, they honestly care about complete strangers. They may be deluded, but they think other folks are in danger from Big Bad Consequences, and they try to reach out to help. And I think Penn Jillette is right about this kind of thing -- if you honestly think that, say, people are doomed to Hell unless they convert, you had damn well better evangelize, or else you're a bit of a hypocrite.

All in all, I'm glad I wasn't mean and left it at "I'm not interested." Because they do mean well. But I admit -- I miss that For Sale sign.