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Don’t Stop Believing

Nov 1st, 2008 | By Sean Griffin | Category: Features

jesustalksRepent while there’s yet time!” A voice yells over the crowd, growing more intense with each repetition. “Repent. Repent. Repent. Repent!”

My heart races every time they come to preach at Free Speech Alley. They wear sandwich boards printed with various quotes of scripture, like John 3:3: “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” One man raises his voice to a roar to reach the ears of as many passersby as he can. Women wearing long sleeves and floor-length skirts and their children in crisp khaki pants hand out pamphlets to students hurrying in front of the Union on a brutally hot day. I take one from a child that gives a step-by-step guide on “How To Be Saved” and respond with my usual “Thanks, bud.” Occasionally, at the busiest part of the day, volatile arguments break out between students in the crowd and the out-of-town evangelists. These are the members of the Consuming Fire Fellowship.

The Fellowship, a fixture in Free Speech Alley, has been spreading the word of God every other Tuesday to University students for years. Britt Williams, the church’s pastor, has evangelized at LSU since 1987. Williams, a portly man of 47 with a salt-and-pepper beard, said his hope is to save the lost. It’s out of love that he brings members of his church to preach to students about their sinful, hell-bound habits — techniques that often result in fighting, condemnation and insults aimed by upset students at the CFF. So why do they keep coming back?

“If someone could lay down their bias and observe [us], they would see that we are telling them that they’re lost and on their way to Hell and if they don’t repent they’d go to Hell,” Williams explained. “If I believe you’re going to Hell without Jesus and I don’t tell you, [then] that’s not loving.”

To illustrate the CFF’s purpose, Associate Pastor Charlie Kennon offered a metaphor of a burning house with his son trapped inside. To get into the room to save the child, he said he would pound on the door while yelling. Kennon said this is the same thing CFF does in Free Speech Alley. But is this the best way to preach?

Baptist Collegiate Ministries also appears in Free Speech Alley and has its own opinion of the CFF, admitting the two groups have doctrinal differences. As a whole, BCM has experienced firsthand students’ frustration with the kinds of argumentative methods the CFF employs.

“We do sense urgency for people to have saving faith in Christ, but we adhere to the biblical challenge of 1 Peter 3:15 calling us to share our faith with ‘gentleness and respect,’” they wrote to me in a prepared statement. “Students in our ministry frequently express concerns because the methodology of the Consuming Fire group does not accurately portray the love and kindness of God. We genuinely want to see LSU students find life in Christ and we have never heard positive reports from this offensive approach.”

The members of CFF preach not only at the University, but at the Illusions strip club in Woodville, Miss., a restaurant in Centreville, Miss., and town gatherings and events near Woodville. Williams said the nature of their preaching doesn’t change to fit each location, but students at LSU sometimes feel like the CFF unfairly singles them out.

Caitlin Hebert, pre-veterinary medicine junior, said she has witnessed the group “unfairly” attack a student, an act she calls downright offensive.

“Once I heard them call a guy a homosexual because they thought he looked like one,” Hebert said. “So they condemned him. They didn’t know anything about that guy. That’s not going to do anything.”

But Williams argued he and the other congregants don’t explicitly label students or make hasty characterizations. Instead, he said the CFF’s strategy is to speak to the general population to whom the name applies.

“I can’t refer to every student that walks in front of the Union as a ‘homosexual’ or ‘adulterer,’” Williams said. “We don’t know that, although we use that terminology. We speak in general. ‘If the shoe fits, wear it.’”

With this kind of approach, as well as the apprehension and hostility students feel in such a situation, convincing anyone to turn to Jesus can be challenging. Kaiti Rees, psychology junior, said age plays a factor in whether students can be persuaded to listen.

“To me it’s just the wrong approach,” Rees said. “I think at this age people have made up their minds and no one on a street corner is going to change that.”

But for one student, street corner conversations with CFF were all it took to change his mind. Keaton Robinson would be a computer science junior this year, but he is no longer enrolled in the University. Robinson, a former member of the Healing Place Church, left both school and his church about a year and a half ago to attend the CFF. He, like many, first responded to the evangelists by questioning their motives.

“I debated with them a lot,” Robinson said. “But they were logical and believable.”

However, emeritus professor of religious studies John Whittaker said the CFF’s method doesn’t rely on working arguments. Instead, it is better described as a “shouting match.”

“It reinforces a stereotype of believers as being all dogmatic,” Whittaker said. “They say, ‘This is what [the Bible] says, this is what it means.’ But people want to talk about the issues. They don’t want a shouting match.”

I wanted to understand the people behind the shouting, the accusations and the spectacle in Free Speech Alley. I made the trip to Woodville in early October to sit in on a service at the small-town church. When I walked into the main room of the building my photographer and I were immediately met with curious stares from the 40 or so members in attendance at this Sunday’s service. We quickly found seats in the corner of the room to keep out of the congregants’ way. I was struck by the gentleness of the people I met; there was no trace of the fury and confrontation LSU students see. I saw a child dozing against his mother’s arm and a father gingerly laying his own sleeping children on the floor. These were families that worry about what’s for dinner and getting the laundry done — just like any other.

It was quiet in the room but still busy. A deep mumble could be heard every so often as one man prayed. Children were quiet, well-behaved. One boy read from his Bible intently, never breaking his gaze. I admired his concentration; he couldn’t have been more than 10.

Then I noticed the pacing. The congregants walked back and forth, whispering in soft prayer, as if everyone were waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen. The scene was at once eerie but calming. The members were surprisingly friendly in contrast to their aggressive public display. For the first time in the presence of the CFF, my heart didn’t race.

But I was later troubled by a story Pastor Kennon told the members during the children’s service. It involved a hypothetical situation in which a child from one of the families died from a snake bite. The story ended with the family strengthening through the faith and perseverance of the parents, but I couldn’t get past the story’s dark undertones.

Anyone who has stopped to witness the scene at Free Speech Alley has undoubtedly noticed the children the CFF brings to help pass out pamphlets. Williams said some students have argued the atmosphere is inappropriate and exploits children, often going so far as to call the kids “brainwashed.”

In response to criticism that the CFF forces young children to accept the church’s opinion without their consent, Williams said the kids can make informed decisions on their own.

“Well, my children have been coming to LSU their entire life,” he said. “They’ve heard your best argument against Christianity. I would say that they’re presented with every argument.”

Williams’ 17-year-old son Micah, with his black, slicked-back hair and the same green shirt and black pants his brothers were wearing, was the first to greet me when I visited the church. I was impressed by the teenager’s maturity as he told me his story. Micah came to LSU for the first time when he was six months old. He proudly explained that he has maintained his faith with the help of his father’s teaching. Not long ago, Micah was “born again” and he admitted, “[Before then], I was still very wicked and I realized how wicked I was.”

Before that turning point, he wasn’t sure what he would do for the rest of his life. Now his aspiration is to “follow in Jesus’ footsteps.” Micah is one of 10 children in the Williams home, headed by Williams and his wife Bridget. Williams bases his view of the family on biblical reasoning, and said he and Bridget try to incorporate New Testament theology and doctrine into their family’s lives.

“We have a very traditional, orthodox view of the home,” Williams said. “The man would be the patriarch. He would be the head under Christ and the wife would be submitted to the husband. And the children submitted to their parents.”

He added that he and his wife married on these terms and thus have a fulfilled relationship. Mr. and Mrs. Williams met 20 years ago when he was preaching at the University and she was a philosophy student. These days, she shoulders the duties of a wife and mother proudly. She boiled down her daily tasks to helping her husband with the call to God and training the children in the ways of the Lord.

“The main challenge would be the multi-tasking,” Bridget said with a reserved pride. “Just trying to juggle everything and keep it orderly and give myself sufficiently to every area of responsibility. I’m a Christian and the grace of God helps me to handle everything I need to handle.”

I glimpsed another side of Bridget’s character when she responded to the music at the church. After nearly 30 minutes of nonstop singing and musical praise, some congregants, Bridget included, began to run excitedly around the room. Pastor Williams said that type of response is one of enthusiasm for God’s message.

Eventually the church took a break from the singing to encourage everyone to greet each other. I shook every adult’s hand while my photographer fielded hugs from many of the women and girls. I also shook the hand of every boy in the congregation, but didn’t even talk to the girls, most of whom walked right past me. (Likewise, the boys all avoided the photographer.) I was a little shocked to see the strict gender separation at such an early age.

I asked Bridget how she would respond to claims that the submissive lifestyle to which she and other members adhere made them victims of sexism. She told me this was the life she chose.

“We live in a very rebellious era,” she said. “That’s looked down upon [here] as degrading. I’m very content in obeying Jesus. I chose to follow Jesus and in choosing to follow Him I will do things His way.”

Williams said his congregants home school their children — a fact he said many students “despise.”

“[Schools] may be producing people who have facts, but they’re not producing anyone that has any wisdom,” Williams said. “We home school for that purpose, because we’re trying to protect our children. Just like any parent would.”

Mr. and Mrs. Williams both emphasized the importance of protecting their children from what they consider to be an immoral public school system.

“We would say that most institutes of higher education are not participating in education, but propaganda,” Williams explained. “For example, [if] you take Darwinism and evolution and you teach that as fact, you’re a liar.”

He said while it isn’t impossible to attend a college and be a good Christian, it’s difficult. But he feels anyone can be chosen by God to attend an institute of higher learning.

“I believe God could have someone [at a college], but only if God sends them there and I can’t choose,” Williams said. “God does.”

Williams and the other members of the CFF who come to Free Speech Alley may make some students uncomfortable, but their unrelenting passion keeps them coming back week after week with the hope of reaching still more. Williams started preaching in front of the Union 21 years ago and has no intention of quitting anytime soon. Their conviction is admirable, regardless of the confrontational nature of their tactics. And that motivation allows them not to be fazed by arguments and opposition they’ve encountered. For Williams, it’s what he was meant to do.

“We’re evangelizing that way because that’s what the Bible teaches us. And that’s what Jesus and the apostles did and they were met with the same reaction.”

He went on, “I believe preaching is something very strictly defined according to the scriptures and it is to lift up your voice. Of course there is one person preaching, but we are conversing with the student. There is a method to the madness.”

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