“That was close, a little too close.” Those were my thoughts that afternoon. What if they had chosen me?
The summers of my teen years a number of congregations in the Pensacola area helped sponsor the annual Southeastern Soul Saving Workshop on the campus of the University of West Florida. The part of the workshop specifically for teens travelled to Gateway Church of Christ for special speakers and classes. Three hundred plus teens assembled and learned from like “Cool Joe” Beam, Larry Sawyer, and Dick Webber. These men and others would challenge us to live up to what we began in Christ. We would sing “new” youth songs which are now the “old” classics, and we would attend “break-out” classes. One of those classes at Gateway stands out in my mind.
I do not remember the year. I think it was 1983, because I vaguely remember driving there. When we arrived, the registrars directed us to choose a colored sticker to go on our name tags, these stickers would determine what classes we would attend and when. One of the classes I chose was a class that promised an experience of 1st Century worship. This class choice came with instructions for finding the classroom. We were told to look for certain colored marks (stickers) on the walls, doorways, and posts. These marks would direct us to a secret location where our class would meet. We were told to tell no one where we were going and to be sure we avoided the men wearing read bandannas on their sleeves making did not follow us. This class was already fun and we were not even there yet.
When my friend(s) and I finally made it to the class room, we quickly realized we were in a large storage closet along with about twenty other teens and adults. The lights in the room were battery powered lanterns. The teacher spoke in soft tones so that those outside the room could not hear what he was saying. The teacher welcomed us, made sure we were not followed, and then he told us the history of the struggles of early Christians meeting in secret locations, such as private homes or catacombs for fear of death. Then we began a worship assembly beginning with singing. At first we all sang softly, but as we continued to sing (our voices blending in harmonies) our volume became louder. Soon we forgot we were hiding. That was when the door burst open and three men came in with red bandannas on their sleeves and carrying plastic (toy) machine guns.
The three “soldiers” were yelling threats, making accusations that we were violating the law by assembling here. One of them pointed his toy gun at the girl sitting next to me, as he did he asked her in threatening tones, “Are you a Christian?”
Tears, streaming down her cheeks, she replied, “No! I just came with a friend.” The room became deathly silent, she had spoken up earlier about her love for Jesus. Now she denied Him. As she did, we all began asking ourselves the same question, “Would I have said, ‘Yes’?”
It was just pretend or was it?