Hello, Candidate for Soul-winning, would you like to be my friend? You can tell by my smile that I’m the friendly sort. And why else would I be stopping by your house at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning?

“Hi, I’m here from Grace Fundamental Bible-Believing Baptist Church and wanted to know if you go to church anywhere?” I already know that you don’t.

We can’t be real friends, of course, as I perceive by your clothes that you are a sinner ripe for destruction. I can practically see the evil creeping out of your tattooed pores. I’ll bet you listen to rock music and drink beer when Christians like myself aren’t around to make you feel guilty. I’ve decided to care about you anyway.

“If you were to die today do you know where your soul would end up?” I do. Don’t pack a sweater.

No, we will definitely never hang out or have a meal together. I would never let you or your public-school indoctrinated spawn within a mile of my children. Every friendship has its limits.

“Say, we’d love to have you visit our church!” You can sit in special section reserved for those we judge. We love fresh fodder for the judgment bench.

Why do you look so annoyed? I’ve done nothing but be perfectly nice. Is anybody else enough of a friend to care as much about your soul as I do? I doubt it very much.

“Well it was really nice to meet you. Let me leave you a gospel tract as I go.” I know you won’t read it but it’s my duty. It’s what friends like me are for.