getting into it.
So Saturday morning I volunteered at a Christian prayer booth at a psychic fair. In the 1980′s, when the the fair began, God told Pierre through conviction to put a prayer booth in there. Near the end of our first week, he asked for volunteers. Denny and I put our hands up without really knowing what we were getting into.
Because Denny and I both only speak English, we were separated. I went on Saturday from 11 to 3 and Denny went at the same time on Sunday. I didn’t know how long it would take to get there, so I arrived a little early and ended up being the first one from our booth there. An awkward situation. There’s witches and terra card readers setting up all around me and I’m just sitting there. What made it even more awkward was when I told one of them that I was there to help out, not realizing she was from a different, more astronomy-themed station. After ten minutes or so, I took the blanket off the table full of stuff and soon after a French man came to help.
Well, help. He was there to do everything. Almost everyone spoke French so he and the other man that showed up later did most of the talking. They impressed me. They just jumped right into it. No reservations. I was so nervous, scared that some new ager was going to grill me on what the soul is (some thing that ended up happening exactly).
I had some good experiences. Some people did come by who spoke English. One guy, big tall guy with long dreads and headphones, came by in his French accent and asked what we were about. I told him we were there to show people the power of prayer. He said sometimes he looked up, but couldn’t think of anything to say because he didn’t think God was interested. I told him God loved him and was interested in whatever he wanted to say. He asked me how prayer affected my faith. I said without prayer my faith would be completely intellectual. I wouldn’t have a relationship with Him, which is exactly what He wants; a relationship. He said he was going to continue his tour.
A 20-something woman from Vancouver came by to see how the scene was in Montreal. She was disappointed. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “The scene in Vancouver is way bigger.” She made me want to come home and start a booth there.
And other than the new age lady pointing the finger, that was pretty much it. It was about 2:30 and I was checking my phone for the time every five minutes. Then these two girls who seemed to be having fun came by and asked me what was good to do there. “Nothing,” I said.
“Why,” the darker haired one asked, “do you think it’s bullshit?”
“Well, most of it, yeah,” I said.
“Then what are you doing here?” the other asked.
I kind of looked down sheepishly, “Well I’m a Christian, and this is a prayer booth, so I’m helping these guys out.”
“Don’t be ashamed of it!” she said. It was like God was looking at me with this annoyed expression on his face.
So I stood straighter, looked up and reexplained. We talk for a little longer and they left.
After a few times of looking at each other and me mouthing at them to get out of there, they came back and asked us what they should do with a free question they were getting from another booth.
“Ask her if there was one thing they could receive that would give them eternal happiness, what that would be,” one of the other men at the booth told them.
“Yeah, but then she’ll just give us some whishy-washy answer. I want to ask a real question,” the darker haired one said.
“Well then push for something more real,” he said. They said something about not want to waste a bunch of money, I told them “we pray for free!” and they laughed and walked away again.
By that time I was pretty much done, so I grabbed my coat and things and walked out. I saw them in line for the free question as I left and gave my last try to get them to leave. They just laughed (I had done it humoringly) and stayed in line.
Something – and no it wasn’t the fact that they were cute – told me to wait for awhile on a bench in the conference building to see if they would leave soon. 15 minutes later they came out, called me on waiting for them and invited me to explore the city for the rest of the afternoon. They were from Toronto, it was Oana the dark haired one’s 20th birthday, and they didn’t have anything to do till the evening. We walked through old Montreal and discussed our spiritual beliefs and the fact that Mirjam and I were both dutch till dinner time. Found a great, French restaurant called “Crème de la Crème” (chosen despite my deciding it was too expensive based on its name. “Don’t judge a restaurant based on it’s name!” Mirjam said). Had some awesome onion soup, chicken pot pie and blueberry pie for only $14.95. It was a great time.
On the way to the metro station I introduced them to the awkward turtle and they wrote their names on my hand so I could find them on facebook. So if you want proof, I tagged the pictures. Jon and I were talking about spending New Year’s Eve in Toronto, so maybe I’ll see what they’re doing.
That’s the sort of thing I came here for; conversations with peers about where they are spiritually. I know there are young people to talk like that with at home, but separating yourself from the normal makes it easier. And I’m learning a lot here about where people outside of the church bubble are at. It makes talking to them better, more productive, if that makes sense. Like Pierre and Glen Smith said, coming in with your finger in Revelations telling them all “Repent, repent, repent!” isn’t going to work for most secular or searching city folk.
Anyway, I think that’s it for this time. Peace.