Carpet Ruined the Winter Sidewalk Bible Study

Outside of Augies, about 12 college-age kids were sitting in a circle on the sidewalk. Actually, some of them were kneeling. And, as if to wordlessly explain not only their presence but also their odd posture, they each had a massive Bible either open in hand or resting beside them.

A car was stopped nearby at a red light, and a woman rolled down her window. She hollered to one of the fellows, “Is that a Bible?”

“Yes, it is,” he responded a bit too sprightly.

“What are you doing?” She asked. Her tone was impolitely sharp, but the gist of her question seemed sensible enough, I’d say.

“We’re having a Bible study.” I didn’t see his face, but you could tell he was grinning. The kind of grin you choose to wear, not the kind you can’t help. There was no self-deprecating tone in his voice to give the impression that he was aware of how weird he and his gang were.

But I don’t think these people were insane, just zealous. Zealous and naïve.

The zeal was easy to see: I mean, it was near midnight on a Saturday. It was winter. And they were having a Bible study. Outside.

The naivete of this whole scenario seems pretty obvious, too, so I won’t spell it out for you. I’ll just draw your attention to one seemingly subtle, yet extremely significant detail about this little gathering.

They were all sitting or kneeling on little pieces of carpet. Not remnants, but those neat little rectangular pieces that stores use for samples and my kindergarten teacher used for nap mats 25 years ago.

At first, I just laughed about this the same way I laughed that they were having their book club outside a strip joint. But then it hit me…

They brought carpet. Carpet.

They brought carpet.

I almost don’t know what else to say if that doesn’t make you cringe a little.

I’m sorry, is the sidewalk too dirty for you? Is it gonna stain your khakis?

But never mind—I’m being mean. Perhaps there’s some reason for the carpet.

Whatever the reason, though, those little squares of cut-and-loop turned our young Bible studiers into outsiders. And not just outsiders, but purposeful outsiders. It was like they were wearing insect repellant to go bug collecting.

Without the carpet, they would’ve just been plain old crazies. And you know what? We would’ve loved them for it. Crazies are welcome downtown.

S-A. T-U-R. D-A-Y. Hey!

Balance on a fire hydrant and scream down brimstone. I’ll say Amen and throw you a quarter.

But come on!—You had to bring carpet with you just so you could sit down?

They probably thought they were being practical—And I suppose that’s true. They were.—but their actions said, “Downtown isn’t ours. We’re just visiting—and good thing, too, cuz jeepers creepers, Sister Susan.”

Now, I want to be clear: Other people don’t need to feel like I do about Minneapolis. I promise not to be personally offended that someone else wouldn’t want to sit on our public walks.

I just don’t want to be like that person, no matter how clean they keep their pants.