Encounter With Baby Christians at a Protest Rally

My two friends and I are heading back to our car after an exhilarating few hours marching in the “No Kings” protest march. It was a hot, sunny day, and we were tired, but happy.

The protest turnout was the largest Santa Fe had seen, and protests to protect Democracy from the current regime in Washington always draw crowds here. There were giant puppets, teens and adults from the Native American Reservations surrounding Santa Fe, Hispanic people of all ages, and the usual suspects of white aging Boomers that are a big demographic here.

My friends and I are in the latter group. Between us we are an agnostic, one in recovery from fundamentalism, and one lapsed church-goer from a social justice denomination who considers Jesus a brother, not a savior. Sinners all, to the bright, shiny young people we were about to encounter.

I wore a cap that said “No Justice No Peace” and a Malcolm X t-shirt. As a short, aging, white, blonde or redhead depending on my mood, I made an impression.

As we drew closer to the parking lot, we noticed two large buses pulled over next to the sidewalk where we were walking. Lined up on the sidewalk was a blindingly white, mostly blonde group of teenagers. They were scrubbed and polished and handing out flyers.

The flyers were printed with bold letters asking,

“Do You Want to Know How to Be Saved?”

I have a long history of arguing with Evangelicals and fundamentalists. In my younger days I enjoyed responding loudly to street corner proselytizers asking “Are you saved?” with “Yes. Yes I am.”

They then often asked “Are you sure?” and I would answer, “I am. Are you sure you’re saved?”

Or, I’d mix it up and say compassionately, “We’re all saved. Every one of us.” Which really threw them off.

Now, since I actually do believe every single person is either “saved” or none of us are, or that there’s no such thing, I don’t argue with them at all. I might be able to sow a seed of doubt into their religious certainty, but not likely. Especially now that Evangelicalism has been hijacked by the current wanna-be fascists in power.

So when the first beautiful child handed me a flyer, I looked at it and the headline and burst out laughing. Then handed the flyer back.

Not the most mature response, I admit. I was tired and it was all I could manage.

A few feet further, a second beautiful child handed me the same flyer. This time I told her, “I am a Christian (by my definition, not theirs) and THIS is what I’m doing with my faith today,” gesturing at my “No Justice No Peace” had and my Malcolm X t-shirt.

A few more feet, and three shiny young men looked at us. I looked them and their adult companion in the eyes. They did NOT hand me or my friends flyers. I joked to my friends,

“They know better than to hand us flyers.” The teens and the sponsor actually laughed in agreement.

That was the other odd thing about the entire experience. None of these kids nor the adult reacted with anything other than smiles. It was creepy in a “Children of the Corn” kind of way. Down to the blue eyes and blonde hair.

Street corner evangelists would often yell after me when I asked if they were sure they were saved. Or they would say they would pray for me. Both responses were deadly serious.

These youngsters, who looked as if they were dropped from the sky rather than being bussed in, only smiled. And smiled. And smiled.

Were they brainwashed? Drugged? Genuinely happy in their faith, where some people are saved and others go into eternal torture? I have no idea.

All of us protestors were smiling, but it was out of camaraderie and adrenaline of being in the midst of a group of like-minded citizens practicing our freedom while we still can.

Maybe that’s what they were doing as well. Or maybe they hope so diligently for an afterlife, that the issues people face today of homelessness, loss of freedom, deportation, loss of healthcare, and more are just not their concern.

But that’s not what Jesus taught.

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This post was previously published on Backyard Church.

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