“I want them to think about Jesus" says Winnipeg's Homeless Street Preacher

Lucas Aragon like another homeless man in the Bible who felt a call from God to  preach repentance

If you drive downtown on weekday mornings in Winnipeg, or take the bus, you’ve seen the “Jesus is Lord” man.

He stands at the corner of Portage and Donald, shopping cart with meagre possessions in tow, with his homemade signs: “Jesus is Lord,” “I love Jesus,” or “only Jesus saves.”

Maybe you have wondered: Who is he? And why is he there?

As a regular transit rider who sees him there each morning, I know I did. So I decided to ask.

His name is Lucas Aragon. An immigrant from El Salvador, the 48 year-old has been in Canada for 28 years.

A pleasant, friendly and engaging man with long black hair and a beard, Lucas is quick to smile and say hello to passing pedestrians.

He is also homeless.

Lucas didn’t plan to be where he is today. At one time, he had a steady job and was in a relationship. But in 2013 he lost his job and the relationship turned sour.

A year later, he was on the street.

But then he felt God’s call to turn his life around and get a new job as a preacher. But not a preacher in a church—on the streets.

“This is my job now,” he said. “I do it for Jesus.”

His “pulpit” is the sidewalk in front of Mountain Equipment Co-op. He’s there each weekday morning, starting about 6 A.M.

Unlike other preachers, Lucas doesn’t use words. He stands quietly with his signs, unless someone talks to him.

Then he loves to talk—about Jesus.

About 9, he goes to the library. While there he uses the Internet to check his Facebook account, uploading Bible verses or inspirational videos.

He spends the rest of his time at other public locations, then comes back to the corner in the early evening.

“I try my best to be here twice a day,” he said.

That includes winter, although he admits sometimes the bitter cold can sometimes keep him from his corner.

At night, he sleeps downtown, his cart tied loosely to his ankle in case someone tries to steal it.

I asked him: Why doesn’t he stay in a shelter?

“I don’t feel safe there,” he said. Plus, he added, “it’s hard to sleep.”

But surely sleeping outside, especially in winter, must be hard, I told him.

It is, he admitted. But God has not only called him to preach, but to be homeless and live on the streets.

“It’s a test of my faith,” he said.

What about food—how does he eat?

“God provides,” he said. “I’m not here to beg. I leave it up to God.”

It’s true. He has no cup or hat where people can toss change. He relies on kind people to give him food or money—unasked.

Sometimes he gets more than he can use. Then he shares it with others who live on the streets.

What if someone gave him a nice, free, safe place to say—would he take it?

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m afraid I would get too comfortable and not come here each day.”

I asked: Does he go to church?

For the first time, Lucas seemed annoyed—maybe even a little bit angry.

“I go to church and see people with their hands in the air, praising God, and then I see people who are poor and needy on the streets,” he said animatedly.

“They praise God, but they don’t follow God—they don’t help the poor.”

He was quick to add that just doing good deeds, like helping the poor, isn’t enough. People also need to repent and turn to Jesus.

What do people need to repent of? I asked.

“Evil deeds, drinking, drugs, love of money,” he said. “No matter how much money we have, we always want more.”

What does he hope people will think when they see him on the corner?

“I want them to think about Jesus,” he said. “He is the way, the truth and the life.”

As I headed for work, I couldn’t help thinking about another homeless man who long ago felt a call from God to  preach repentance. His name was John the Baptist.

I’m not saying Lucas is a new John the Baptist. But there are similarities.

One thing I do know: He sure preached to me. 

Maybe he preached to you, too.