In the World, Not of the World

As I picked up my heavy luggage, bearing in mind last-minute reminders from my parents and the prayer requests and good wishes from fellow brothers and sisters, I reminisced on the twenty-four short years that had gone by.

Growing up, I found joy in reciting Scriptures aloud and playing baseball; those happy times soon passed by, and the sole thought in my mind was to hurry and grow up to be a preacher just like Dad!

I do not recollect being labeled as a “rebel” in my youth.  It seemed like during that period I was always hauling the tatami

from the 4^th floor of the Taiwan General Assembly to the basement and back up to the 4^th floor again, hosting one conference after another, including the First World Delegates Conference.  Exhausted from the lifting, several of us would gather around the rotating fan in the guest room, lie down wherever we could and fall asleep.  Even in my dreams I had the thought of “preaching the gospel to the ends of the earth!”

As my academic work entered a very strenuous period, the evening services at church felt like a safe haven for me to find rest.  I would have in-depth conversations with God in the prayer room during the 10 minutes prior to service and the 30 minutes after; the prayers felt as intimate as a little child holding onto the hand of an adult.  During those days making good use of time was purely to be “used by the Lord.”

During the period of martial law in Taiwan, “going into the world (to preach)” was easier said than done; however, sometimes I would hear testimonies about how people who worked on passenger ships could meet people of all nationalities. I was convinced that this was the most effective method to preach the gospel to the world, so I decided on nautical studies as my college major.  I also gave myself the alias “Wave,” indicating my wish to follow God’s wave in carrying the gospel to the four corners of the world.

A little more than a hundred days were left before the college entrance exam.  As I was filling out the declaration of major form, I suddenly noticed the fine print below the nautical studies selection: “Students with serious near-sightedness may not register.”  My world was instantly turned upside down; I stayed up all night gazing absently into the sky.  I didn’t say a word about it to my family or anyone else; nor worry about the fact that I didn’t even have the history and geography books to study for the upcoming exam. I went to the school administration and switched from the school of engineering to the school of liberal arts. On my declaration of major form I only circled the very unpopular language studies that very few people in church know. People around me were in such utter disbelief that even a pindrop would be audible.

Before I left the country, Elder Cheng in his good nature asked me what I would like as a farewell gift.  “Please send me off by writing in calligraphy my father’s encouragement: ‘In the World, Not of the World,’” I replied.

In August 1977, I arrived in Paris. It was a completely new and foreign environment to me.  On the desk I placed a photo of my parents, and on the wall under the slanted roof I hung Elder Cheng’s calligraphy piece and a painting entitled “The Ugly Duckling Tearfully Watching Geese Fly,” that I had found on the Parisian street market.  There was only a tiny window opening to the sky in my 100 sq-ft dormitory.  On the door I wrote the words “Alchemist’s Cauldron” to show my determination to bear patiently and fight for the Lord.

There were countless Sabbaths when I worshiped by myself in the name of the Lord Jesus, concluded with Amen, and sang along with the hymnal tape.  I would sing, “to the regions beyond, I must go, I must go, till the world, all the world, His salvation shall know.”  After singing with tears flowing down my face, I sighed that the road ahead was too long for me to finish.

“So why did you choose to study philosophy?”

“Don’t you see how deeply theology has been affected by philosophy over the millennia?  If we could strip away all of the philosophical theories that have been obscuring theology, then we could stop the structure of traditional theology in its tracks and save ourselves from the gridlock of man-made theologies; and carry out our spiritual duty to ‘uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.’  Then with a pure heart under the guidance of the Spirit, we can find the model of pure truth and establish a systematic gospel that would be set apart as holy!”

On June 1986 at the age of 33, having already completed my bachelors and masters degrees, I defended my dissertation on Gabriel Marcel’s “thou” and “Absolute Thou” at Paris-Sorbonne University.  After my defense, I stood firm and listened respectfully to the head professor acclaim my dissertation as a “monumental work” and award me with an “outstanding” mark.  I actually did not feel any special joy besides a sense of thanksgiving.  As the years pressed on, I only had one wish left -- to go take care of my wife and parents.

After I had finished packing, I unexpectedly received a letter from the International Assembly.  After a great inner struggle, I set my luggage down (lest feeling ashamed to face my parents) and accepted the calling.  After a year passed by, I returned to Taiwan and enrolled in the TJC Theological Training Program under the tutelage of the elderly preachers.  I was deeply touched by the “holiness” that was prevalent in their conversations, that which all my religion and philosophy professors had lacked.  I suddenly became aware of the commission God gave 2500 years ago to the preachers of the true church today: “And they shall teach My people the difference between the holy and the unholy, and cause them to discern between the unclean and the clean” (Ezek 44:23).  Isn’t this why we persist in training our own ministers, even under difficult circumstances?  There are no other reasons but this: The curriculum at any ordinary theological school would simply supply knowledge, which is obtainable anywhere.  In terms of the wellspring of a spiritual life – understanding the truth, guiding the church, and serving in different ways – if we cannot discern between “holy” and “unholy,” but always follow secular knowledge and management in serving fervently with the profane fire, then we would unknowingly cause the church to suffer severe and irrevocable losses (cf. Lev 10:1-3)!  This is a sacred task entrusted to the one true church by the Holy Spirit; who other than myself should carry it out?

Today, I’ve realized the power within the words, “silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you.  In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, get up and walk!” – from begging alms outside the temple to entering into the Lord’s temple of endless grace!  Taking a big leap forward and leaving the unholy to enter into the holy, I am insistent upon a path of faith and way of service that are set apart from the world.  Although this is an arduous task, with struggles and hardships on every side, yet nothing can cover up the sweetness of the joy and peace given by our Lord Jesus (Is 30:20; Jn 14:27; 15:11; 16:33).

A traditional Japanese flooring made of woven straw, and traditionally packed with straw.