The fellow that just walked in has long greasy hair, a week old beard, and obviously has not bathed in several days. His clothes are handouts or something he got at Salvation Army. He is quiet and respectful, but all eyes in the Hall keeping looking back over at him - wondering why he is there.
Elder walks over to the guy sitting in the seat and says, "Excuse me, but we do not allow that kind of behavior and unbecoming style of dress in our place of worship. Would you please leave?"
"YOUR PLACE OF WORSHIP?" the man replies. "What makes this place YOUR place of worship? This place belongs to me."
"I must ask you again to leave immediately before I call the authorities and have you removed," the elder replies.
"Been there and done that before. Got thrown out of a Jewish temple once. I've been arrested and dragged through the streets by the authorities after being accused of disrespect for religions. There's nothing you can do to me that I haven't been through before - so do what you have to do. I'm not leaving because this is where I am supposed to be."
The elder sneaks off and goes in a conference room and calls the police. About ten minutes later five police cars pull up in front of the Kingdom Hall. The cops rush in, speak briefly with the elder and then go into the main hall. The man has moved to the stage and is sitting in the reader's chair, waiting politely to speak. The police approach the stage and ask him to stand up and give them his name.
"Before you arrest me I just want to say that I've made a horrible mistake. I thought this place belonged to me. But I was wrong. I should have known because my name isn't on the building anywhere. In fact, I don't see it anywhere on the walls, on the books or magazines. After listening to the talk for a few minutes I've heard references to 'Jehovah,' whoever that might be, the Organization, the Society, the Governing Body, and the Faithful Slave class. But no one has mentioned my name. So I guess I don't belong here and maybe never did."
He then steps down from the stage and walks toward the exit. The police take him in custody. "What is your name, mister?" one of the cops asks.
"Yeshua. My name is Yeshua. I just came back to town and I was looking for my home. I thought this was it, but obviously I made a mistake. On the way over here, though, I did see a couple of other places that looked like they might be mine, but I'm probably wrong about that too."
With that, the police haul the man out in handcuffs, throw him in the back of a patrol car, and drive away. In a few minutes, the meeting in the Kingdom Hall resumed where it left off. It was like "Yeshua" was never there.
They didn't know who the man with the foreign sounding name was or why he came there, and frankly they didn't care. After all, they had seven more paragraphs of the Watchtower to study before they could go home.