#30ReasonsWhy | No. 29: Saturday nights

To die is gain, but to live is Christ, Christ among us.

Gian Erik Adao
Jul 27, 2017 · 6 min read
One (probably Saturday) night at Fema’s Pizza, a family-friendly diner that serves pizza and all-time Filipino favorites (Photo by Noel Viray Jr., Facebook)

The year was 2009, and My Mission, My Generation.

The plan was to win these “lost” people to Christ.

And the strategy to do that?

Friendship.

Not that I was not really interested in them, but I just knew I had something else in mind, a hidden agenda, so to speak. It was not friendship for friendship’s sake. The goal was to reach a certain level of confidence when I could talk to them about the Gospel. It was called friendship evangelism.

In short, as a non-evangelical would often misinterpret such intentions: Babaptisin ko sila. Yes, but not really. I was not converting them to a new religion, I said. I was inviting them to a relationship, a relationship that would commence once they say the magic words, the Sinner’s Prayer, prayed aloud, repeated after me. I had to hear them pray these words. Only then would I be at peace.


Before SNC was Settlers ng Catan, it was originally Saturday Night Club, which essentially translated to Sir Noel & Colleagues (Photo by Adrian Basa)

Kuya Ian was that person who knew everyone, even those who did not know him. Or so, I thought then. We started as Multiply friends, but I can’t really recall now how we became friends offline. What I knew then as a fisher of men, was that I had to use the perfect bait to catch this soul. And what did I think it was? A VCD of Coach Carter. I had no interest in basketball and even dreaded it — which could be an entire different story about my childhood — but I lent him the VCD anyway after I learned he was coaching a team for the town’s liga. That was the first step in my witnessing plan. But how things went on from then, I barely remember now. It must be Pao, who was a common friend whom Kuya Ian had known longer before he knew me, or Noel, Ian’s Fragile friend who had known Ian more than I did then. I would just find ourselves playing Monopoly Deal, on Saturday nights.

A low-maintenance friend, Kuya Ian is a friend who doesn’t seem to mind. I will later discover that he does, and I’m privileged to have discovered that. Noel would say we have passed that phase when we would learn about each other’s basic profiles, so to speak, but I know I could always ask. You know he’s deep through his public Facebook posts. He’s deeper in his PMs and in SMS.

XXXXXX


Noel was a classmate in elementary, from Grade 3, but as I would always say, I only have two memories of him as an elementary classmate:

(1) We were in Ma’am Velasco’s classroom. He sat beside me and had me imagine that the room was a mental hospital, and that everyone in class had their own degree of craziness. Suddenly, everyone looked crazy to me. Someone was playing with the broom, someone was just walking around for no apparent reason, someone was busy scribbling notes, and here, someone was just laughing while watching everyone.

(2) We were seatmates on the jeepney to Majayjay to watch a theater play which Ana Kristina’s brother had a role. Noel asked me whether we had not passed by the Arko ng Pagsanjan, and if we would pass by it. We had not, and yes, we would. But at the back of my mind, I was surprised he did not know. I thought that was common knowledge. How come this boy did not know?

A horrifying Halloween concert at Tayantang in 2013 (Photo from Paoloregel Samonte, Facebook)

Noel and I only started to get to know each deeper, during our class reunion. (No, correct that: during our preparations for our class reunion. He got the reunion shirt — which I have never seen him wear ever — but he did not attend the event.) Still, my purpose was clear: My mission, my generation. I got to introduce them to Christ, even if that meant joining them when drinking beer overnight, once. For the first time, I would witness someone get drunk. A classmate who was asking for coffee, gently at first, suddenly changed her tone. She sounded lasing, as I would only see on TV. <Supply the adverb here, Noel.> My heart cried then for this generation, seeing it so wasted, while — as only now that I realize — ignoring my own brokenness. It was the same night that Noel wondered about my outlets for my sexual urges after I said I told him I had not seen porn. I lied.

While the initial attempt to become friends with Noel was somewhat strategized, I believe the friendship was never artificial. I would genuinely enjoy being a friend to him, and having found a friend in him. My goodest friend, he was genuinely kind, effortlessly friendly, naturally thoughtful of the other, of a sheep’s heart. Until I knew him better. It turns out, he really is, at the core.

XXXXXX


Another (probably Saturday) night at Fema’s, one of the few last times we played Monopoly Deal (Photo from Noel Viray, Jr., Facebook)

“Kuya, may barkada ka na!” Rizia exclaimed once. And as elitist and exclusive as this may sound, this is a barkada I am actually proud of.

For one, we are all Mama’s boys.

We are against death penalty, and we are for human rights.

XXXXXX


Photo from Adrian Basa (Facebook)

The fading of my hidden agenda was inversely proportional to the formation of our friendship.

Looking back at these years, I realize that it was I who was won, who was found. If Christ is my life, then sharing Christ is sharing my life with them. The Gospel remains the agenda, but it does not have to be hidden.

XXXXXX


Now, SNC is growing. Kuya Ian is slowly merging his different subsets and circles into one. Thanks to Catan for blurring the lines. And now, I find myself surrounded by people I would only weep for in prayers when I was younger, when I did not understand them and only judged them.

Photo by Arvin (Facebook)

People are kinder than their tattoos. Just because someone smokes or drinks beer or says tang aroy doesn’t mean they are lost.

And even those who choose not to believe God have reasons worth listening to.

XXXXXX


Sir Noel & Colleagues, you are one of the #30ReasonsWhy I’m thankful to reach 29. Where were you when I was thirteen? But does that matter now? To more Saturday nights, Brothers. I love you too.

The Best Man’s best men (Photo by Ching Dee)
Gian Erik Adao

Written by

Christ is my life, while I like teaching and development communication

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