Jesus' church

One lunchtime, barricade the streets around Hobart mall and direct everyone who's on their way out back in. When it's full but not chock-a-block, go out into the outlying suburbs and find some Mums at home with their kids, some elderly ladies and gents, some people who don't feel comfortable in town. Hurry them into your van and bring them to the mall. Now ask everyone to love each other and get along.

No, wait, it won't work like this! First someone's got to die for them. He's got to turn to them three days later with nail-sized dents in his hands and say 'Go on, stick your finger in.' And he's got to have spent time with some of them before he died so that they will think back on what he told them about the whole thing.

There's some ugly people in the crowd in the mall, and some bastards, and some really decent people too. And they're all sorry for giving the finger to that man. He's more than a man to them now. They're all clutching pocket-sized books with tiny letters dotted between the words. They're reading the books and smiling. One's crying and the guy next to him doesn't pretend he's not. They're crammed in there but they're not complaining. It's not what they had planned for the day, but they're holding off from bickering. They're following their Lord.