Imagine, if you will, that that the boy grew up raised by working class Pietists, not the middle class professionals you might imagine, and not by just one or two of them but by a whole village.

Imagine then, if you will, that he is surrounded by this cloud of witnesses and lifted to leadership among them, held up as a hoped for reviver of the land. Though he excels in his studies at school, knowledge comes not from experiment or reflection but from the still, small voice whispering in the dead of night and in the busyness of day. Should a conflict ever arise, he must be prepared to give up the one to pursue the other.

Above all, he must practice his listening; he must grow himself into constant conversation with the still, small voice. For when revival comes–and the persecution that will most surely follow–what else will he have? The boy must be trained to lead, and to lead from the spirit. He shows talent in this, and perhaps his strength will assuage our weakness. If our hearts are hardened, perhaps he will melt them.

And so his time shall be devoted to learning the workings of the spirit. Endless hours in study. Every verse in the book must be known, every line written upon his heart. His every thought and feeling and deed must be searched and known, known and measured. When the boy shrinks from it, his reticence must be doubly searched, double known. For the apocalypse draws close. Time will likely end before he sees graduation. And didn’t the prophet say that a child would lead them? Didn’t the apostle say that wisdom beyond years is free for the asking if asked without guile?

Let the boy carry three of the books: one for reference, one for study, one for devotion. Let him wear his faith as a sign upon his clothes. Let him assemble his peers, a remnant, and lead them in worship. And let him do it without guidance, so that he will of necessity learn to trust the workings of the spirit within him.

Surround him with the children of doctors and lawyers, of professionals of every stripe, but do not let him dream of following in their parents’ footsteps. For the end comes, and that right soon. Would that he is not caught unaware at the moment of crisis, distracted by dreams of law schools, business schools, PhDs. Let him think he’ll have to work for a living, or else that the spirit will provide. And if the end doesn’t come, send him to seminary to save the heathens there.