I'm often handed fliers while walking down State Street .
Sometimes they're for a sandwich shop, sometimes they're for yoga. Occasionally I get a guide for the end of my life. It seems such an intimate gift to be handed by a stranger, a stranger with a curt grin and only temporary acknowledgement of my presence. It's bizarre enough that the search for life's answers begins among shoe sales and traffic, but it's even more so that you find yourself staring at stranger asking you, “Have you found Jesus?”

“This is my calling,” says a woman who is busily distributing three-by-five inch messages of salvation. “It's just what I am supposed to do.”

There is truth in that for believers. The word “evangelical,” so often cited in the religious literature, means to go and tell. In nearly all world religions, a group or groups exist who feel that part of being saved – having a good ending – is to gather others to follow. This particular woman's handout has a picture of a young bear sitting on a tree branch eating honey out of a hole in the tree. Above the bear are the words “It's A HONEY Of A Deal!” and inside are several Biblical quotes indicating that the end is imminent. Near the end are quotes pointing the reader to the good life.

Even though the audience on State Street is mostly uninterested and dismissive, the woman is compelled to keep handing out her pamphlet. “I just want people to know about Jesus' love,” she continues. Eternally optimistic .

In stark contrast is a man nearby. He's dressed in a long coat and holds a microphone into which he speaks with a piercing voice. He is the kind of person you observe for a long moment. Through his makeshift public address system, he lists of a number of behaviors that will only lead to eternal damnation: sex outside of marriage, sex with a partner of the same gender, sex in exchange for money – they're all guaranteed ways to have a bad ending. He refuses to stop to talk to anyone – he just keeps preaching. There is anger in his voice, but it comes off as smug when coupled with that smile. His charisma allows him to appear right for a moment. But without the exchange of money, he refuses to hand over any literature. It is common knowledge that indulgences went out with the Enlightenment, but that doesn't seem to stop him. Further prodding only irritates him and he becomes the one who ignores and shakes his head.

There's such a vast difference between the two evangelists, yet they stand only a few blocks away from each other. The woman is welcoming, with her arms out and her sense of duty, smiling and happily spreading her word. The man warns and threatens, picking and choosing to whom he talks, even rejecting some. There had to be some middle ground. I found it in bright colored t-shirts with the most unusual phrase : Jews for Jesus.

A youthful bunch of smiling faces handing out colorful fliers, inviting people to come and learn more. They are more than happy to talk and full of questions themselves. Their strange name is explained this way: they are ethnically Jewish and believe that Jesus, or as they say, Y'shua, is the Messiah. Their handout is a comic called “Dumped by Trump” which criticizes the obsession with validation from false idols of power and success. The comic features a man with 12 apprentices who were all forgotten by society, yet he took them in and showed them their individual success. The message is clear: No matter how dark it seems, there is a bright end .

As I continued to walk down State, I found a group of Buddhist monks, none older than 15, walking with their eyes wide and trained to the sky. I noticed each was adorned in yellow robes and sandals when they all suddenly stopped on a corner and became silent. They must be evangelists in their own way, I thought.

Several reached into their robes and pulled out disposable cameras. A few hurried clicks later, they were off towards the Sears Tower. That's all that I needed to see. My quest for salvation on State Street ended there.