The last Sunday before Christmas, December 21, brought one of the most thought-provoking experiences in my travel through Korea thus far. I had a chance to visit a Korean church by myself that morning, since Gwen was unable to meet with me due to a previous engagement. I felt like I was going for me, without time constraints or the pressure of another's schedule. This time, instead of critically examining anything familiar I found, I sought it out; however, I didn't find much. I could make out a couple of recognizable hymns, like "Hark! The Harold Angels Sing," and the name of a Biblical book, Isaiah. But as I was alone, I could make out none of the sermon, though I sensed it (presumably through my spirit) to be powerful. If I knew the language better, I might have been better equipped to judge and test the message. I feel mildly uncomfortable accepting it blindly without first pondering and considering it. Despite my doctrinal unwillingness, this church felt different from any I've yet been to in Korea.
[Sarah, the leader of the group]
What surprised me when I first sat down was the amount of young people I found there, specifically twenty-something men. Down the pew from me sat a young man whom I later learned to be "De Hong." Across from me and towards the front was another young man wo seemed to be quite passionate as he sang. These two both proved to be p
art of the church's young singles group. After the service, most of that group flocked to my side to either ask my name and nationality or to invite me to lunch, an offer I gladly accepted. For the meal, the young people sat in a back room not much bigger than (or around the same size as) the college group's first room at Alamo City (if you're familiar). The room held close to twenty people, all of whom were around my age. As I joined them, I couldn't help but feel at home; I missed being around such a group. There seems to be a considerable lack of young people my age in Chungju churches.
art of the church's young singles group. After the service, most of that group flocked to my side to either ask my name and nationality or to invite me to lunch, an offer I gladly accepted. For the meal, the young people sat in a back room not much bigger than (or around the same size as) the college group's first room at Alamo City (if you're familiar). The room held close to twenty people, all of whom were around my age. As I joined them, I couldn't help but feel at home; I missed being around such a group. There seems to be a considerable lack of young people my age in Chungju churches.Curiosity about me, this unexpected foreign oddity among them, sparked like a California wildfire. The young woman who acted as my translator, Hannah, told me they wanted to know all about me but because of the language barrier didn't know how to ask. I asked what they wanted to know. "Do you have boyfriend?" De Hong immediately fired off. The whole group laughed at his antics. "No," I quietly replied. I told them briefly about meeting Gwen and teaching in Chungju, then later they asked how long I had been a Christian.
I felt quite the center of attention for them, especially when one of the young men [Myong Sup, the one to the far right] called out, "Jenny-fer, we bless you." They started singing their worship song, apparently about Jacob's blessing to his sons, to me. As they began their praise to the LORD, they started singing over me. Their hands lifted not to heaven but in my direction, palms up and outstretched in a posture of receiving a blessing or a gift. As she sang, a young woman named Sarah called to me, "This is for you!" The whole scene was quite awkward for me because I felt like I took their focus off of Christ. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before--I'd been prayed over, but not sung over, too! At one point, I wanted to cry--they had made such a fuss over me, blessing me through Jacob's ancient blessing and proclaining over me that "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." While they continued in their songs, I began to think of the experience as just another expression for God to use to encourage me.
[Sarah with her sister, Hannah]
As I sat there, I wondered what my purpose for coming to Korea really was and if could be what I thought at first: to encourage the church here, much as Paul did on his missionary journeys to Asia Minor. Later in the Bible study, we were asked to share how we can keep ourselves holy before God, and through interpretation I was able to say that personal conviction is not a hill to die on. There's freedom in Christ; the way to keep holy is to recognize the works of the enemy and to avoid those, but not to be hung on conviction. Hannah confessed to me that my words were "a very sacred message for all people" and "very moving." I was quite touched by her statement--could my words hold such power and meaning? Through the Spirit, yes. I felt the Spirit move through that church in a way that I haven't yet felt in other parts of Korea.
[one of my translators, Ji Yea, and me]
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