On the Edge

by Parker Hudson

  “Sure, man, that sounds like a great idea,” Phil was saying. “We'll get the videos some other night. Let's head on over to the party.” He waved his hand and started out the door.

  Zane began to say something to Roger, but then decided to go along, because he wanted to see what a college party was like too. So long as they had their own car and could leave the party whenever they wanted, a voice told him that it would be all right. The demons who permanently occupied the adult book store and who had planted that rationalization in Zane's mind, smiled and couldn't wait to hear the reports on Freddie's party at their midnight meeting over the city.

  “Yes, sure, Thomas and I have been dating every weekend, plus some on week nights, unless we're both just too tired. And I do certainly know what you're talking about. We like each other a lot. And I guess it hasn't been easy keeping our hands off each other, but so far, for the most part, we've managed.”

  Just then Zloy darted in through the outside wall of Bobbie's bedroom, spinning around and looking quickly for any sign of an angel. Nervous, only there because of Nepravel's pleading, he slithered up behind Amy to listen for the voices of Unworthiness, Doubt, and Pride, which every demon knew were the keys to keeping out the Word.

  Amy and Susan looked at each other. Amy smiled. “So you have done something with Thomas!”

  It was Bobbie's turn to look down at the floor and blush a little. “Well, yes, a few times we started to touch each other too much, but then we both knew it was wrong and stopped. It wasn't easy, but we've talked about it, and each of us wants to be a virgin when we get married.” Bobbie silently prayed for strength and wisdom for how to explain her deepest feelings to her friends.

  Amy and Susan looked at each other again, this time incredulously. “Virgins when you get married!” asked Susan, leaning forward and smiling. “Why on earth would you want to wait that long? Nobody does that anymore!”

  If it had not been for the mirror on Bobbie's bedroom wall, reflecting the first glimmer of light as the angel came through the wall behind Zloy, he would have been exploded back to hell in a cloud of black smoke. As it was, he just ducked in time, and the angel's talon grazed the top of his smoldering head. His shriek was drowned out by the angel's cry of “Holy is the Lord God of Hosts,” and Zloy could only escape by darting under the floor and out through the crawl space at that end of the house. He had accomplished nothing in his brief stay, except to confirm that he should never go back. Amy and Susan were Nepravel's responsibilities. Let him come risk his own neck! Zloy had seen and heard enough.

  Bobbie began, speaking slowly, “I realize it's hard to explain, and you may never understand. But for us, having sex before marriage is just like a lot of other things we might do—drinking, smoking, stealing, cheating on an exam. Both Thomas and I feel the power of God's Holy Spirit living inside us, and so we don't want to do any of those things, because He doesn't want us to. God truly knows what is best for us—He has always known—and He has said that all of these things are wrong. That we will live a fuller and happier life if we don't do these things. And if we do it God's way, marriage will be better.

  “So for Thomas and me it's not a question of giving up sex before marriage. It's rather a question of trying to do the will of our heavenly Father, whose Holy Spirit lives within us. And since that will does not include premarital sex, we try to cut short the things that could get us going beyond the stopping point. It is tough, especially since we really like each other. On a couple of occasions we've actually prayed together for God to give us the power to do what we know is right. And you know what's funny? After praying like that with Thomas, I've felt that I loved him and respected him more than I ever would have if we had had sex together.”

  Bobbie had said so much, and it did make sense. But it was so foreign to anything that Amy or Susan had ever heard. For a few moments neither of them could think of anything to say.

  “You mean,” Amy finally asked, “that you're sitting there in a parked car with Thomas, and you're hugging and kissing, and as things start to get really hot, you begin praying?”

  “Yes, a couple of times we've done that.” Tears started to come into Bobbie's eyes, as she tried to explain her faith to the two girls who were most important to her. “Again, I know it's hard for you to understand. But you see, I—we—pray all the time for and about all sorts of things. Our families do. The power of God is so great. He can do anything, if you believe in Jesus as your Lord and have the Holy Spirit living inside you. And we know that we can never overcome the temptation to do anything—sex, drinking, whatever—without His help. Relying on our own strength just doesn't work.”

  Susan had to admit that what Bobbie said sounded logical, if the business about the Holy Spirit were really true. But it was so alien, so foreign to anything she had ever seen on television, or in a movie, or read in a book; it was almost as if Bobbie were telling her things about another planet. Then she thought about all the fun she and Drew were having, and a dim but audible voice asked her why on earth she would want to give that up.

  The answer was contained in what Bobbie then said:

  “The problem is, I can understand that if you don't have the Holy Spirit living inside you, then the real joy of passing up premarital sex, or any other temptation, probably doesn't make sense to you. Because you're focusing on the instant pleasure. But Thomas and I are focusing on the joy of our Lord, and the fact that he paid the ultimate price for us, so our bodies are not just our own. They belong to Him too. And we're always brought back to ‘What would He want for us?’”

  Tommy felt uneasy as soon as they walked into the old home that was apparently Freddie's college living quarters. Just looking around, he could tell that this group was made up of committed homosexuals. As confused as he had been about his own sexual orientation over the past several months, it had been one thing to act out fantasies in the relative safety of a friendly basement. But this party was another matter. These college boys—and young men—were obviously smoking pot, drinking, and he wasn't sure what else. When their group walked in, two men were dancing cheek to cheek in the living room, and all heads turned to look over at the four younger boys who came in with Phil.

  “So, you and the kids will leave next Saturday, and I'll join you the following Thursday, ten days later,” said Richard, as they split a chocolate ice cream pie dessert. “I know you'll have a great time, as usual. Please, of course, be particularly careful when you drive up there.”

  “Yes, it should be nice this year, especially with the new riding horse Dad has apparently bought. But what about you?” Janet smiled. “Do you eat regularly when we're away? What will you do?”

  “Oh…” Richard returned her smile and then dabbed at the ice cream with his spoon. “I'll be OK. I'll find something to do to keep me busy. But of course I'll work mainly.”

  The girls talked on for several more hours at Bobbie's slumber party, but each of them realized that the gulf which separated them on the subjects of premarital sex and birth control pills was so great that there was no real point in bringing it up again, at least not that night. Amy and Susan would try to digest all that Bobbie had told them, but it was not easy. And Bobbie would try to understand how her friends could give in to something she believed would eventually harm them so much; she, too, had a hard time understanding.

  Finally, around 2:00 in the morning, they decided that they should get some sleep, if they were going to make it to Bobbie's youth group at 10:00.

  Tommy, Brent, Zane, and Roger stayed together, following Phil around Freddie's old Victorian home. They had only been there a few minutes when Freddie himself materialized from the kitchen, wearing leather pants and no shirt. “Welcome, welcome” he smiled. Reaching down into a cooler by his feet, he pulled out a beer for each of the four boys, and said, “Make yourselves right at home.”

  As soon as Zane popped his beer, he wished he hadn't, because he really thought they should leave. Turning to Phil, who had led them over
in his car, Zane said, “Just one quick beer, Phil, and then I really think we need to get these guys home.”

  “Oh, we only just got here,” said Phil. “You can, of course, leave whenever you want, but for now let's go look at the big video screen in the den.”

  Tommy followed along, being drawn deeper into the house, sipping on his beer. Soon he was seated in front of a large-screen video, watching yet another version of the acts he had seen before during their basement gatherings. As the video kept rolling, and the beer can became emptier, the seat felt more comfortable, and the boys felt more relaxed.

  Zane's first instinct had been right—the four of them should never have gone to that party. But the voices drowned out those instincts and encouraged each of them to take just one more little step, to drink just one more sip, to wait just a few more minutes to see what would happen next. Tommy and Brent, besides being uncertain about themselves sexually, were naturally pliable and tended to go along with the crowd. Sadly, tragically, this was the wrong place and the wrong night for two confused fourteen-year-olds who naturally “went with the flow” and liked to please other people. When they finally left almost two hours later, Tommy and Brent were even more confused than ever.

  That night over the city, messengers from the adult book store and Freddie's party described their continuing successes. Nepravel emphasized the steady degradation of the two teenage boys and only briefly mentioned that neither Amy nor Susan was a candidate for premarital sex that night, since they were not out on dates.

  Zloy had warned Nepravel not to gloss over where the girls were, because he was not about to take even more blame where the Merediths were concerned. When Nepravel passed, Zloy spoke, out of self-preservation, and alerted the broiling mass that the two girls would be out of their control for several hours. And of course he boldly recounted his own heroism in singlehandedly fighting off a warrior angel that very evening in Bobbie's bedroom.

  On hearing this, Balzor came screaming down to Nepravel, making an example of him in front of all the others, demanding to know how he had let these two girls, already almost completely under their control, come under the Merediths’ influence for so long a period. Nepravel, his back against his cohorts, Balzor glaring down at him, blamed it all on Zloy, protesting that if Zloy could just keep the Merediths quiet and inactive, many of them would have fewer problems.

  Zloy was incensed. The two of them started trading taunts and charges. Finally Balzor intervened, screaming, “Enough! Whatever the cause, you've both got a problem. Now figure out how to neutralize any damage the Merediths or that Michael Andrews and his cursed church might do, and be quick! Remember, a run-in with an angel is not the only way to be blown back to hell!” He turned and resumed his high place of authority. The meeting continued, and Nepravel and Zloy eyed each other warily.

  SUNDAY, AUGUST 6 – Glenn Jamison, the leader of the Morningside Church youth ministry, believed that to change teenagers’ lives—or any people's lives—required three things: instruction in the power of God, instruction in the wisdom of God, and Christian role models with whom the kids could identify. Glenn and Michael Andrews, his boss and mentor, believed that most churches put people to sleep droning on about the wisdom of God. As important as His wisdom is, Glenn knew that if an individual could only once feel the real power of God, he would then pick up God's wisdom out of a simple thirst to know more.

  So Glenn and his assistants emphasized teaching about God's power in their Sunday youth group; and they tried to live lives as Christian role models. Just as significantly, they knew how important are peer groups, and so they built their ministry around a core of young people, which changed slightly as the kids moved through school, but which was basically responsible for teaching the gospel to the other students. The result was a youth program that had grown exponentially—the kids knew they were receiving genuine friendship and important instruction, so they came.

  “Hi, Amy. Hello, Susan,” Glenn greeted them with a warm smile at the door to the large, sloping classroom when the two girls arrived with Bobbie. “Glad you're here. We've got a superb speaker this morning. His name is Price Weeks, and he has a strong message to tell. Come in.”

  The three girls found their way down to the seats Thomas Briggs was saving for them. Bobbie sat next to Thomas and squeezed his hand.

  There was a Bible reading followed by announcements about upcoming events, the number of which frankly startled Susan. Bobbie had said that they saved prayer time until the end, and Glenn rose to introduce their speaker. Price Weeks, it turned out, had graduated from the university seven years earlier in architecture. He worked now with one of the city's best midsize architectural firms. Glenn did not say too much more, and Price, a handsome young man with blond hair, rose in front of the group of more than a hundred teenagers.

  After some first remarks and a joke about Glenn, whom he had apparently known for quite a while, Price told them that he could talk about a number of things, but he wanted them to learn that morning about how the power of God had changed him completely. Because, he said, he had been a practicing homosexual.

  Amy and Susan looked at each other, as if to say “Oh great, what has this got to do with me?” They underestimated the power of Price's words.

  “But I'm not here to talk about homosexuality, as such. That just happens to be what Satan used—and it was very powerful—to trap me, to bind me, to keep me away from the love of God, to fool me, and ultimately, except for God's grace, to completely destroy me. You see, Satan doesn't just walk up to us on a sunny day and say, ‘Hi, I'm Satan, and I want to destroy you and your family, and be sure that you spend eternity in hell, not in heaven.’ If he did that, then even I would have been smart enough to run in the opposite direction as fast as I could.

  “No, Satan has known forever that the straightforward approach doesn't work. He has a better way. He's been deceiving us since the first man and woman. And remember, he hates you. He despises you. He wants you in hell with him, not in heaven with God and Jesus, where he used to be, but can't go. He can't stand it that you might wind up there forever. But he can't confront you straight on because he knows that you will flee. So he lies. He lies about everything. And he knows exactly what to lie about with each one of us to pull us into a life separated from God by sin. If he can do that to you, then he will win. You will lose. He's got you. You go to hell—forever. And you're miserable here on earth, deep down inside, as well. All he's got to do is keep you so confused and so overtly content and feeling so unworthy and doubting God that you won't take the very simple step of turning to God.

  “Listen, what is he doing now to lie to you? How many of you are already drinking, and partying every weekend, when you ought to be advancing yourselves by studying? Don't you think he loves it when you destroy your brain at sixteen and cut yourself off from all that you could be? He's winning!

  “How about your parents? How many of you hate your parents?” There were some nervous laughs and looks around the room. “He loves it when he can get you to believe your parents don't understand you, and he gets your parents to believe you're bad. Then you'll never talk to each other, much less pray together. And you'll never learn anything from the people who could teach you the most, if God were just in there too. Who loses? You and your parents! Who wins? He does, laughing all the way to hell, with all of you! God set up families, and Satan is destroying them. He's lying and winning. Does any of this sound familiar? When was the last time you and your parents got down on your knees together and prayed to your common Father? Trust me: it will work miracles, right here, right now, in your lives. But he can't stand that, so he lies to you, and his voices tell you not to be so stupid. Stupid? You're only stupid if you listen to him!

  “And, hey, what about sex?” More nervous laughs, but a lot of seriousness, too. “How many of you girls are being pressured to have sex now? How many of you boys are doing that to your girlfriends?” Amy looked down at the floor, and Susan felt herself turning p
ink. “That's all him. Satan. He's lying to you. Listen, you can't embarrass me on this, after what he convinced me to do. He had voices going in me that said I was the best thing around. I know about the excitement and the professions of love and the thrill. Believe me. It sounds great, going in, doesn't it? Fantastic. Fun. If it feels good, do it. He loves me, so it's OK. Right, girls?

  “I know, I know. I've heard it all, too. But, please hear me. It's not the sex that it's really about. Or the liquor. Or the homosexuality. It's all about you. He will use anything to trap you, and the better it sounds, the better job he's doing on you.

  “You know what? You can't win…That's right. By yourself, you haven't got a chance. Satan has been at this forever. He will chew you up and spit you out. ‘Maybe just a little,’ you say. He loves it. ‘I can handle this; no sweat,’ you say. He cheers. ‘I'll stop when I get older and have to be responsible,’ you say. He laughs, knowing that you may never be either.

  “Kids, hear this, if you don't hear anything else I say this morning. He used all of those tricks on me, and I got to the other side, where you always wind up, where it isn't fantastic or even fun. I was at the very bottom. I was in the gutter. I was with the wrong crowd. I knew from the beginning that what I was doing was wrong—or at least a small voice tried to tell me, and I drowned it out with all the ‘fun’ I was having. I felt terrible about myself, which is what Satan wants. If I ever thought about God, a voice screamed at me that I was unworthy and that God wanted no part of me. Listen. Listen: I was going to hell, both here on earth and eternally.” Not a head moved. No one stirred, as the teenagers focused on Price's message. It had really happened to him; this was obviously not an act.