Wake, Sleeper by Parys Bryan;

Author:Parys, Bryan; [Parys, Bryan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781498207874
Publisher: Wipf and Stock Publishers
Published: 2015-11-30T08:00:00+00:00

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A few weeks prior to my divine appointment in NYC, I sit in Evangelism class at Laconia Christian School. It is the only Christian education elective I have not taken in my four years of high school, by my own fear-driven design. It is my last semester before graduation, and there are no other electives available that I haven’t taken twice, let alone once. There’s no way around it this time. I’m going to have to learn to save people.

Over the course of the semester, the class covers the basics of how to talk to strangers about Christ, and ultimately, lead them in what is called the Sinner’s Prayer—a series of words that, when others repeat them with us, mean that they are part of God’s fold. Though we are not given a script, the goal is to prepare us for the class final: a weekend trip to the unsaved streets of New York City.

Stevie and Mel teach the class as well as organize and lead the trip. For LCS and for its sponsoring church, Laconia Christian Fellowship, they are our resident missionaries. In addition to annually leading a handful of trips to NYC, Armenia, the Dominican Republic, Romania, etc., they also serve as our unofficial youth pastors.

They have been hosting a youth group at their house for some time now, and most of my friends attend. I have heard that there is a lot of pressure to be overly spiritual—speak in tongues, prophesy, that sort of thing. I have never been part of a youth group, but I’ve heard that you get to talk to the person you have a crush on while bowling or mini-golfing.

Stevie and Mel’s group isn’t like that. In fact, from what I can tell, theirs is a reaction against those spiritually soft kinds of youth group. They’re serious about spiritual development, and they want everyone there to be what is referred to in our nondenominational circles as “baptized in the Holy Spirit,” through which comes tongues, prophecy, and other gifts of the Holy Spirit. But these sorts of things frighten me. Not only is there the looming fear that I am not spiritual enough to actually perform these feats—they tell me these are the marks of true followers of Christ—but I don’t like speaking in public of any kind, especially if it’s in tongues—some mishmash of improvised Hebrew that no one, often including the speaker, understands.

In my head, Stevie and Mel have targeted me for their proselytizing wiles. I can’t help but project on them my own fears of the shortcomings of my so-called faith. Up until this point in high school, I feel as if I’m a Christian—maybe even a good one at times. I tithe 10 percent of my earnings from my job as a sandwich artist at Subway, and I play guitar on the worship team at church and school on a weekly basis. And these things feel good, sometimes soul satisfying even.

But then my best friends return from meetings at

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