CLEVELAND – As a woman in the city’s Public Square began a scheduled talk about peaceful interactions between Muslims and Donald Trump supporters, four banners were unrolled and raised into the air behind her.
“Muhammad is a liar, false prophet, child-raping pervert.”
“Every real Muslim is a Jihadist.”
“Jesus is angry with you sinners.”
“America: God hates your sins.”
And a man with a megaphone began to yell, “Allah is Satan.”
Jim Gilles, a preacher from Evansville, Indiana, brought five other men and their four banners with him to Cleveland to preach. They are not affiliated with a particular church, but said they believe God wants them to bring their message to the Republican National Convention. They were one of many religious protest groups in public Monday.
Their group was also one of the loudest. While most other religious protesters only held up signs, such as “Only a Vote for Jesus Can Save Us” and “Jews Against Trump: We’ve Seen This Before,” Gilles and his friends shouted over the crowd everywhere they went.
The scheduled talk was completely drowned out by Gilles’ megaphone. His message wandered from obeying the police to ending abortion, eliminating Muslims to converting gays, abstaining from drinking and smoking to keeping black citizens in line.
Gilles’ shouts drew counter-protests from left and right. A same-sex couple kissed directly in front of him for three minutes, showing him their middle fingers.
Kim Snyder, a woman who said she was in the square to pray for the police, began to cry.
“You are all misrepresenting the heart of Jesus,” she said. “Jesus loves and forgives everyone.”
Black Lives Matter activist Pierre Nappier stood in front of Gilles, pointed at Gilles’ Trump hat and said, “My friends, white supremacy has come to town today.”
Nappier asked if Gilles would shake the hand of a black man. The two looked each other in the eyes and shook hands.
“I’ll shake your hand,” Gilles said. “But you’re still going to burn in hell.”
Gilles said he is a full-time preacher who has visited 330 college campuses in America, including IU. He used to take his children, who are now 25, 21 and 14, with him. He said he supports Trump, but his main purpose in Cleveland is to turn sinners toward God, not to support politics.
A convention of this size is an excellent opportunity to find an audience for your message, he said. The public square has scheduled speakers for many religious and social issues all week long. Gilles said his group is preaching wherever they see a large crowd of people.
He spent most of his time insulting the crowds he drew with his megaphone and signs.
On the other side of the Public Square, 35-year-old Sam Castro asked if Gilles was from the Westboro Baptist Church. Gilles immediately called him an uneducated, ignorant, doomed homosexual.
Anovia Thibeaux, a 20-year-old from San Francisco, asked Gilles why he hated women. Gilles called her a whore.
Brett Mills, 18, who was riding his bike around downtown after finishing a shift at a construction company, asked Gilles what he was yelling about and if Gilles could show him a Bible verse he was talking about.
Gilles looked at Mills and said, “You again?”
Mills spent most of his day following Gilles around town. Every time the group stopped and unrolled their banners, Mills began asking Gilles questions about what he was preaching.
“I wasn’t planning on spending my day like this, but it’s interesting,” Mills said. “I think what they’re saying is so messed up. But I want to know why they say it.”
Mills asked for definitions, Bible verses, reasons Gilles was yelling so loudly. Every once in a while, Gilles decided to answer him.
“Sir, why am I going to burn in hell if you say God is forgiving?”
“Because you will not repent.”
“But I’ll be OK if I do repent?”
“Not if you still fear death. Let me show you this verse ...”
Mills’ frustration occasionally got the better of him.
“Son, you have no message,” Gilles said in a nearby park Mills had followed him to.
“Well, your message is garbage,” Mills replied. But he stayed and listened.
Gilles and the five other men followed an anti-Trump march of hundreds of people for two hours, finally confronting the protesters in Veterans’ Memorial Square and unrolling their banners. Gilles turned on his megaphone.
“We know you’re a bunch of rejects from the ’60s,” Gilles said. “We know you’re communism’s useful idiots. How many of you actually have a job?”
The crowd began to press in on Gilles, shouting for rights for women, Muslims and the LGBT community. Swear words flew back and forth. Gilles began to taunt individuals who shouted at him. A row of two dozen police officers eventually created a barrier between the two groups.
“That’s the scariest part to me,” Mills said. “You can have a pretty decent conversation with them. These are guys with kids and families, and sometimes they listen. But then it’ll just turn into yelling and fighting again, and to me it seems like the two sides are talking about completely different things.”
Gilles returned to the public square after the march and expressed pride that he had “broken up that nasty protest and helped the police.” Within five minutes, a young woman stood in front of Gilles and told him he was disgusting over and over, her voice loud and hoarse. He told her she was destined to burn.
“Now, you can’t do that, because it just invites them to talk right over you,” said Mills, who continued to follow Gilles for hours after the march. “You have to listen to them before they listen to you, and that’s the only time it means something. I’m still not sure even that works, though.”
Gilles said talking to people like Mills is important but extremely difficult for him. He said it was hard for him to get people to understand the importance of his message without getting too angry at them.
Mills said his day felt like a pointless project and he knew he wouldn’t convince the preachers of anything other than what they were saying. But he said he was still glad he tried to understand what they were doing.
Late in the afternoon, Mills decided to get back on his bicycle and ride home. Gilles was taking a break from the megaphone and letting his friends take over for him. The two shook hands before Mills left.
“God bless you,” Gilles said.
“Sure,” Mills said in reply.
