Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Most ignore street preacher, but court heeded his argument

Sporting a ball cap reading "Repent" and brandishing a bullhorn, the Rev. Frank Teesdale warns strangers at the corner of 18th Street and Loomis Boulevard in Chicago every Friday that they'll lose if they gamble with their souls.

The Baptist pastor cautions that the Roman Catholic Church is a false path to salvation, homosexuality is an abomination and adultery is a sin.
Tattooed cyclists bark profanities and flip him the bird as they cruise through the intersection. One man ducks into an alcove to light a crack pipe. Neighbors making their way home from work roll their eyes.

By now, denizens of the Pilsen neighborhood are accustomed to seeing Teesdale's crew of evangelists from Garfield Ridge Baptist Church at the intersection every week, oblivious to the weather and undaunted by the hostility.

If only one person stops to talk to someone on his team, he said, it's the only affirmation he needs.

Teesdale won additional affirmation last month from a federal judge who ruled that police violated his First Amendment rights by arresting him for preaching at the St. Symphorosa Family Festival, an annual festival sponsored by a Catholic church.

The church had a permit to use the streets surrounding the parish, but U.S. District Judge William Hart ruled that those streets were public and that Teesdale had a right to be there, under certain ground rules.

He also ordered the city to pay Teesdale's legal expenses.

Troubled by the language in the ruling, the city plans to file a motion for Hart to reconsider his ruling and rejects any notion that it has implications beyond Teesdale, since the city has no policy against street preaching.

For Teesdale, the ruling renews his faith and his mission to fulfill what he believes to be a biblical mandate: sharing the gospel beyond the four walls of the church and introducing it in the public square.

"We're trying to be true to the Bible," said Teesdale, 59. "Christianity was a very public ministry. Paul first preached publicly. Jesus preached publicly. John the Baptist preached publicly."

Yet some observers, while acknowledging Teesdale's constitutional rights, believe his street sermons are judgmental and mean-spirited.

In addition to condemning Catholicism, he preaches about the sin of homosexuality outside WRTE, a Latino public radio station, during the hours it broadcasts "Q Phonic," a Friday-evening show about gay youth issues.

"I guess it's his right, but it's an attack on the safe space we're trying to create for our youth," said Salvador Munoz, 22, a WRTE volunteer who passes Teesdale when he leaves the station on Fridays.

Teesdale said he has been unfairly maligned and compared with members of Westboro Baptist Church, the tiny Kansas congregation known for mounting anti-gay demonstrations outside the funerals of fallen soldiers.

The U.S. Supreme Court ruled Westboro had a right to protest, even if the group's message was regarded as offensive. Westboro perhaps is best known for the gay epithets on the church's "God hates" placards.

Teesdale said he agrees with some of what Westboro says but said he doesn't agree with their word choices and some of the venues they choose. For example, he said, he prefers biblical terms such as "sodomites" and "reprobates" to describe homosexuals.
"That's what God calls them," he said. "You can have the right message and so smear the testimony you can really do more harm than good."

Raised as a Lutheran, Teesdale became a Baptist when a colleague at Kraft Foods challenged him to explain his beliefs and encouraged him to read the Bible.

"I always felt like there was more to Christianity than what I was practicing," he said. "I went to church, but I never really understood the gospel.

He left Kraft in 1990 and attended the seminary at Fairhaven Baptist College in Chesterton, Ind., returning to Chicago in 1997. He took over Garfield Ridge Baptist Church in 2008.

When he's not preaching in church or on the streets, he works full time checking baggage at O'Hare International Airport for the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.

He became a street preacher when someone challenged his commitment to the New Testament, which instructs Christians to proclaim their beliefs to the world and gives many examples of Jesus and his apostles doing just that.

"It's one thing to prepare a message in the confines of your study," Teesdale said, "but to be on the street and speak extemporaneously … If you take it to the street, you put it right on your sleeve. It makes me know my Bible better."

It takes courage to communicate the gospel beyond the comfort zone of a church, said the Rev. Chris Schroeder, a graduate of Moody Institute and president of the Ezekiel Project, a Michigan-based ministry that teaches open-air evangelism. 

Few preachers want to share their message with an indifferent or hostile audience.