You have your social club, we have ours
I ran in the Phoenix Rock and Roll 1/2 marathon on Sunday 1/14. This race starts in downtown Phoenix and immediately goes through a not-so-great section of town, filled with many street people on a regular day. Yesterday it was filled with runners, joggers, walkers and bystanders.
And apparently proselytizers.
Yes that’s right. “TURN TO JESUS YOU ARE HEADED FOR HELL”
There were at least three of these signs being held up along the first mile of the 1/2 marathon route. I don’t know about the marathon route which took a different path.
My comment to my running mates was “I don’t care if people believe in god/religion or not, but keep it to yourself,” to which I received a nod of affirmation.
But in the 12.1 miles I had remaining of my run, I had a bit of time to think about all this. Humans, for the most part, do need/crave/seek out community of some form or another. It rankles me to admit it, but I’m a joiner. I’ve joined or created a bunch of groups in my life time: the Brownies, my geek club in high school, groups of friends in email, groups of women who had kids all around the same time (in person and in email), groups in school (like women in computer science), groups of exercisers (like my running, biking or triathalon training groups), and even a secular Jewish group.
But do I proselytize? Am I as bad as they are? If I enjoy a group, don’t I want my friends to enjoy the group with me? I’ve gotten a couple of friends to join my biking and running groups. I’ve even tried to get a few friends and my sister to be involved in my secular Jewish group. Am I doing what I hate? Proselytizing?
I thought about it some more (2 hours and 16 minutes of a run gives you a long time to think) and I realized there is a difference. First of all, I don’t use a “negative” campaign, in other words, I don’t believe my friends are going to hell if they don’t run with me. Secondly, I don’t push it. If I tell them about something I like doing, if they want to join, great, if not, I’m not going to berate them until they do. (Although at the time I saw the signs, I thought about stopping my run, going over to them and yelling at the offending sign holders to bug off, but I realized a) that was probably from all the endorphins/adrenaline/testosterone coursing through my veins b) it wouldn’t change their mind and it would probably start a fight and c) I’m really a chicken when it comes to conflict like that).
My judgment? Shove your signs up your collective proselytizing asses and get off my race course.