Sermonizer’s Megaphone

In heart of a bustling city park, two mid-summer rallies kick off on separate corners.

One on the shady north side attracts advocates for LGBTQ+ rights. They arrive on foot, bikes, scooters and more. On the southern end, people gather for a pro-choice event. They quickly fill recycled plastic benches, sit on the ground and stand in the late morning sun by the 30-foot-wide stage.

Flanked by a few friends, 21-year-old Kyle holds his white plastic megaphone and navigates his way to the middle of the park.

Imprisoned by his myopic view, Kyle never uses his Bible knowledge and trusty megaphone to defend the oppressed and marginalized. He won’t speak out on starvation, threats to voter’s rights, child pornography, racism, sex trafficking, genocide, and domestic violence.

Today’s double opportunity – a rare spectacle – didn’t require extra effort. He already memorized Bible verses. He updated his lightweight posterboard and wooden sign; each side highlights his favorite condemnation passages.

Hate spews through his lips as he assails everyone within earshot.

Kyle targets the abortion gathering, often saying “murder is a sin.” After 30 minutes, he focuses on the LGBTQ+ community, casting lines like “homosexuality is a sin” and “God hates gays.”

Ignored by most, he spars with the few protestors who shout back. One furious man spits in his face. In some twisted way, the sermonizer perceives distain as a badge of honor, an affirmation of what he calls “the Lord’s work.”

Quietly, 48-year-old Priscilla prays for him to reconsider his words, embrace empathy, seek to understand others, ditch the smug attitude, and value the inherent worth of each human being.

With her Bible in hand, Priscilla slowly steps much closer until she’s within 10 feet of him. Kyle immediately peppers her with deeply personal questions about her faith, and interests. Frustrated by the lack of answers, he demands that she tell him which cause she supports. In her mind, Priscilla prays, “Lord, please calm his heart and urge work out his issues at home.”

Kyle suddenly realizes he can’t distinguish one rally from the other. Organizers didn’t expect the massive turnout. And for the first time, he can’t figure out what to say. He doesn’t even know which group to confront.

The vibrant crowd is a mosaic of races, ages, ethnicities, body types, voices, and disabilities. Kyle can barely see Harmony Street to the west and Hope Street to the east.

One of his friends takes Kyle’s sign and clutches it sideways. He touches the fledgling leader’s right shoulder and says, “Let’s go home.”