“Can we talk about Jesus?”

I’m not really a religious person. You won’t find me in a church or any other place of worship, but I do believe in ‘good’, ‘charity’ and basically loving one another, if at all possible.

On the tube the other night, one of those people who try to interest everyone in God and Jesus was wandering around again trying to convert the masses. On the run-up to Christmas they start to pour out of the woodwork.

Good luck, he was preaching to a crowd of drunken people who could barely see the person opposite. There was no way any one of them could ‘see the light’.

“Can I interest you in the word of Jesus?” He asked politely and smiled. He wasn’t harming anyone, he was just shuffling through the train trying to share his insights and beliefs in the hope of making someone’s life better.

“No, thank you.” I replied and the fellow smiled and moved on.

I saw the polite young man ask the same question to a number of people who mostly ignored him or shook their heads until he came to an extremely drunk person in a suit and tie almost spreadeagled in his inebriation.

“Can I interest you in Jesus?” The polite young fellow asked the dribbling man.

“What? What the fuck? Can’t you cunts fuck off? I’m sick of you.” He said and began to stand and face the young man whose eyes widened in fear.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to cause offence.” He apologised quietly.

“You lot need a good fucking kicking.” The sot replied and started to insult the man while poking him in the chest.

Everyone around immediately buried their heads in their newspapers, phones or boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken. They didn’t want to get involved.

I’m not noted for my shyness,  so I stood up and walked up behind the polite Jesus-freak and asked the abusive man to ‘sit down and be quiet’.

“Yeah, but these cunts are always fucking annoying everyone.” He slurred.

“All you have to say is ‘no’ and the gentleman will move on.” I said with as much politeness as I could manage.

The man sat down and grumbled to himself in his drunken haze. I returned to my seat and sat down. Keeping one eye on the slovenly fellow, just in case he decided to do something even more stupid.

The Bible-basher came over. “Thank you that was very kind of you to help me out.”

“It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I replied.

“No one else did anything to help. You were the only one who stood up. There is more of ‘God’ in you than you may think.”

“I don’t believe in God.” I said.

“I do even more now. God sent you to help me when I needed it most.”

I laughed a little uncomfortably.

“If more people were like you and stepped up in times of trouble, the world would be a better place.” He smiled again and left.

As I sat there I thought, ‘yes, the world would be a better place if we all stood up to face an injustice’. We don’t need God, we need ‘good’. We need to appreciate our fellow man not hide behind laptops, phones and devices that cut us off from our humanity.

We should stand up to corporate greed, politicians who have their own self-interests at heart, and the people who bury their head in the sand when injustice surrounds them.

And that’s when I realised I had missed my stop. Jesus could have given me a little ‘heads up’. The bastard.

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