I understand the religious idea behind Jehovah’s Witnesses coming to your door, trying to convert you to believe in whatever it is they believe it. Jehovah is Jesus I think, but a different Jesus than Catholic Jesus for whatever reason, something about being a millenarian restorationist with nontrinitarian beliefs and whatnot.
But don’t you agree that these Witnesses need to start being a little more practical in their methods? They can keep the whole spiritual spiel, and they really should if they truly believe it, but money doesn’t flow in like it used to for this organization, and a lot of others like it. So while they’re at it, the door-to-door thing, they should be thinking about maybe taking on a job they could do alongside their serving God one, in order to increase their efficiency level and get some of that sweet cash for their lord.
My recommendation is that they become salespeople, or maybe home servicer providers. Let’s say you’re just sitting around the house after work some night, with your proverbial and actual feet up, and you hear a knock at the door. You reluctantly get up off the couch and answer it, knowing that the only people who knock on your door unexpectedly anymore are delivery drivers and someone who desperately needs your help because they’re being followed or something. However, today it’s a Jehovah’s Witness. Well, him and his buddy, because that’s how they travel. They’re both clean guys, wearing dapper but eerily similar suits. The one on the left hands you a colourful pamphlet, which on a quick glance contains a smiling woman and a cow in a field, and he simultaneously asks you if you’ve found God.
This is a trick question, really, because no matter how you respond, it makes you acknowledge you’re considering the notion. Answer ‘Yes’ and they’ll want to talk about that, as brothers-in-arms or something, and you’ll have to fake some of your favourite Bible verses, if these guys even use a bible. Answer ‘No’ and they really want to talk about that, for the whole conversion thing we talked about earlier. Answer ‘Maybe’, and they’ll think you’re an easy target to turn into a new member of their congregation.
These are the only three possible answers you can really give, in order to save time, and without a making a joke, of which you just thought of three. ‘I’m not interested’ doesn’t constitute an acceptable answer to the question and it comes off as dismissive and close-minded. So it takes you a while, too long really, while stumbling over some words, before you can get it across that you’re not interested in turning into one of them.
But wait. As you’re shutting the door and thanking them for whatever they get thanked for, the guy on the right pulls out a different pamphlet, one for cleaning gutters. Well, now that you think about it, the gutters haven’t been cleaned in a while. And a lot of leaves could be in there, just waiting to wreak some havoc on the impending rain that the nifty weatherman said was sure to hit your area by Friday. And you obviously don’t want to clean them yourself, what with being and lazy and all, but you’re still too proud to actively search for a gutter cleaner, one who isn’t directly in front of you anyway. Realistically, these people, being God-fearing and God-loving and whatnot, are probably trustworthy and sober enough to give you a fair rate and then do a decent job. So you hire them on the spot, and they clean your gutters with gusto. When they’re done, you pay them handsomely, for their hotel and a nice lunch, and they’re able to continue their quest to convert people like you.
So now you’re about to close the door again, as they’re getting ready to leave, when the first guy says he noticed you had a record player in your living room, and if you’d like to come over to his car, since he’s also running this little business selling vinyl albums out of his trunk. You won’t believe the collection he’s got here – a mint-condition copy from the initial faulty run of 300 that Aerosmith accidentally released for Get A Gripe, that rare Miles David recording of What’s New Puddycat, Mobley’s Blue Note 1568 with the mislabeled address – and he says there’s more back at the warehouse.
You’re getting giddy as all hell, with these spiffy gutters and a few new tasty jams, so sure, you follow him back to ‘the warehouse’, which just so happens to be the basement of an ornate Kingdom Hall. He wasn’t lying about the vast collection, and immediately it makes you realize there’s probably a bunch of other things he isn’t lying about, like his religious beliefs and so forth.
While you’re perusing the stacks of albums, he locates a copy of Drake’s Views, which you’ve never actually heard before. As he’s putting it on the record player in the corner, he finally asks you directly, “Can I get a Witness?”
At this point, you basically have no other choice but to accept the power of his conversion techniques and say, with certainty and humility, “Yes. Yes you can.”