a new way of looking at...     writings >> joe dobzynski jr. >> the tickle - 1

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       "REPENT! ALL OF YOU! You are sinners in the face of the Lord!"

       About a hundred students stood gathered around the preacher. No one knew his real name nor really cared. To most of them it was a show, an act for them to watch while they were waiting between that time after their 9:55 and before their 12:05 on this Monday morning. The rest of them were there for a variety of other reasons. Some to question, others to ridicule. Most of them, however, were students killing time. A couple of professors had gathered also, but mostly to debate the pros and cons of the scare tactic approach, of which they were determining that there were definitely more cons than pros.

       "Your binge drinking and sexual pleasures will only satisfy you now, but you will burn in the Lake of Fire when Jesus condemns you to HELL!"

       "What about you judging us now?" a lone voice called from the crowd. "Did Christ not teach, 'judge not lest thee be judged?' ". The voice came from a brown haired student, who had been sitting there since the preacher had begun his holy diatribe about 7:30 that morning. People on campus knew him as a member of IVCF, or Inter Varsity Christian Fellowship. Members from that group came to question their approach to conversion. "Why do you teach fear instead of love?"

       "My sin now may save you all later! I am sacrificing myself to try and save you all from hellfire and brimstone!" The preacher almost looked maniacal up there, rambling in his brown tweed jacket, which moved with his overweight stomach in each shout. He was about forty years old and had a problem with breathing at times. A few had already commented that if this preacher came out of his alcoholic haze he would be able to communicate better to them.

       His wife sat to one side in a long plain dress, looking upon the crowd with a sense of disgust for each woman who passed by. At times you could hear her whisper the words "whore" and "slut" as women passed in midriff shirts or skirts that were above the ankle. God and his son obviously had a different sense of taste in clothing. She was rather plain looking, and not too ugly in her own right. If she would have committed the sin of wearing makeup and doing her hair, she might have been even considered pretty. Her Lord had other plans for her, however, and they did not require she advertise herself like the rest of the "whores" on campus.

       The strangest sights to see were their children. Everywhere the preacher and his wife went the kids went also. It being Monday morning and the children being about nine and eleven years old, it would appear the family didn't believe in public education and their heathen ideas either. They were also plainly dressed, the young daughter in an outfit differing from her mother's only by the color of the parts, the son dressed in very dismal attire. Both children stared at the masses with awe and contempt all at once. Their thoughts on the whole issue was still out to lunch, but the time clock had almost run around for them.