A memory: A young pastor, naïve, as yet unscarred, sets up the worship hall in the dim of the early morning – arranging chairs, placing the hymnals, distributing the worship bulletin he himself prepared, typed and photocopied the day before, setting up the sound system, humming “Serve the Lord with Gladness.” He treasures these moments. Truth be told, this pastor who appears to be outgoing, sometimes boisterous, is an introvert. He gains strength in solitude and quietness. Here, he thinks. At this time, he prays. In this pre-worship service times he gets pleasure from, he worships. In the quietness of the hall with just the hum of the air conditioner as background, he gets a glimpse of a sacred moment – an unfathomable, profoundly satisfying feeling: yes God is here; yes this is what he is created to do. With the braggadocio of the ignorant, he preaches deeply felt messages whose principles remain untested, and yet with the keen recognition, he is saying far more than he understands.
This image, this recollection, I resolve never to forget. In the many strange twists and turns of life, in the challenge of new things, in the excruciating moments of the dark night of the soul, this memory grounds me. I am no longer unscarred. I cannot say I am still ignorant – jaded maybe, cynical maybe, and certainly I could no longer claim the bliss of innocence. These eyes have witnessed faith-shaking moments. These ears have heard words that could wound, words that has indeed wounded. This heart has been broken; too many times it seems, into little pieces, put back together, only to be broken into yet littler pieces. But this memory, this image will remain in me. I will be reminded, you were once thus. And this memory – although I have changed, although I am no longer the same person I was back when I was still doing that, grounds me. It points to truth that is so far unchanged: only by the grace of God. Only by the grace of God can we “serve Him with gladness.”
This image, this recollection, I resolve never to forget. In the many strange twists and turns of life, in the challenge of new things, in the excruciating moments of the dark night of the soul, this memory grounds me. I am no longer unscarred. I cannot say I am still ignorant – jaded maybe, cynical maybe, and certainly I could no longer claim the bliss of innocence. These eyes have witnessed faith-shaking moments. These ears have heard words that could wound, words that has indeed wounded. This heart has been broken; too many times it seems, into little pieces, put back together, only to be broken into yet littler pieces. But this memory, this image will remain in me. I will be reminded, you were once thus. And this memory – although I have changed, although I am no longer the same person I was back when I was still doing that, grounds me. It points to truth that is so far unchanged: only by the grace of God. Only by the grace of God can we “serve Him with gladness.”
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