Jesus is just all right with this guy

Next to John McCain, who has yet to arrive, or the bartenders at the St. Paul Grill, Gary Mathes may be the most popular guy in St. Paul. And he has the simplest message:

"VOTE 4 JESUS."

Mathes, a bearded 60-year-old contractor from Anchorage, Alaska, wears a biker jacket, a do-rag and several heavy crosses that clank like cowbells when he walks. He has become a street-corner favorite during the GOP convention. There are freaks and geeks on every corner, but Mathes, with his big grin and cheerful nature, attracts a lot of attention.

"I didn't know Jesus was running," one man said as he walked past Mathes on Tuesday.

"Oh, he's running," Mathes said. 'He's running every day, to save a wretch like me."

Don't get him wrong, though: He's not a Republican. Or a Democrat. Jesus wouldn't like either party, Mathes says. And the Lord would scorn the TV preachers who make millions while preaching to the well-off.

"These preachers speak against abortion, then they get in their Mercedes and drive past the homeless woman with her little children who did NOT have an abortion. Do they take them home to help them? No.

It's the pride thing that turns Mathes off about politics.

"The Lord does not like pride, but all these candidates are proud. Pride is an abomination unto the Lord. That's why I don't vote. I won't vote for either of them. But I will support whoever wins. I'm just an honorable, humble American who loves his country."

At home, he rides a Harley and witnesses for the Lord as part of a group called the Holy Warriors. With an election at hand, he says, America should raise its sights higher than the White House.

So on a street named St. Peter in a city named St. Paul, Mathes found a pulpit. Since February, he has traveled across the country, including to Denver for last week's Democratic National Convention.

"I've encountered 300,000 people and I've only gotten the finger three times," he says. "People seem to like me. I don't do 'doom and gloom.'"

"We're a whore-mongering, warmongering, wife-beating, child-mistreating, beer- and whiskey-drinking nation," he told me. "We're a Christian nation, hanging on by a thread."

Many people might agree with his view: A growing number of voters, according to some polls, are disenchanted. And Mathes says the country's path is not going to get any easier.

"Prophecy says the next war is with Pakistan," he said. "Stop worrying about this war in Iraq."

Mathes has been befriended by many police officers; many have posed for pictures with him and given him souvenirs.

"Vote for Jesus," he shouts at a passing police car, waving his sign. "I WILL," one cop shouts back. "Which ticket is he on?"