I spent the childhood in detesting my biological family. As a newborn infant, I was abandoned by parents at birth on the basis of their religious and astrological convictions. Spent the first ten years of my life in maternal grandparents’ home where I endured a kind of child abuse by an uncle that nearly cost my sanity. At eleven, I was brought back to my father’s home where physical and emotional abuses nearly cost my life. The terms “father”, “brother”, “uncle” found no place in my oral or mental vocabulary. The only endearing terms were, and still are, “grandfather” and “grandmother”. Sadly, I was not aware of my grandpa’s death (apparently he died while I was being taken care of by another family). I still have a memory of my childhood days of waiting for his return for a long time; no one told me he had died. When I was brought back to my father’s home, I lost the love of my grandma too. Thus, back in my father’s home, the goal of my life was to get away from the family as far as I could get.
In my quest of running away, I ran into the Lord Jesus Christ. In an amazing manner, he transformed my life, my quest and my destiny. I got into a small Christian community. Everyone in that community called each other as “brother so and so” and “sister so and so.” There appeared to be a deeply rooted brotherly kindness even among the strangers. Such friendship and intimacy began to affect my otherwise solitary existence. As I grew closer to Christ and to Christians, I began to feel at home in the church.
Nearly two years into my Christian pilgrimage, there came a preacher in that little church in Nepal from Sri Lanka who also happened to be a professor in a Bible College in Bangalore. Under his anointed preaching in that little church, my spiritual life shifted gears from the sideline of the church to the fast lane of full time ministry. He became my spiritual hero, my role model who I looked up to.
In those days in Nepal (nowadays Christianity in Nepal has lost such genuineness) we called each other “brothers and sisters” and in the same way we called him “Brother Balasingh.” It was an endearing term directly taken from the pages of the Holy Scripture. That Christians are brothers and sisters in God’s family; that Christ is our elder brother is what we read in the sacred pages of the New Testament. In that little church we hardly used the titles like “pastor” or “reverend” or “doctor”. We called our pastor “brother” so and so; the guest speakers used to be addressed in the same way. Thus, “Brother Balasingh” was a term I cherished in my heart about this wonderful man of God even long after he was gone. Every time I visited new places to share my testimony in those days, I would mention his name with great affection and say “when brother Balasingh said this or that.”
God would have it this way that I eventually ended up going to the same Bible College in Bangalore where “Brother Balasingh” was teaching. Shy feeling by temperament, I could not show my excitement of being there publicly. But to be in the class under the man you admired was so gratifying. Then, the shock and the shellshock came one day. There came a day when I had to share my testimony in the chapel where the whole school would be gathering for worship. I was terrified and at the same time was so excited to let the world know how the anointed preaching of “Brother Balasingh” had transformed my life in Nepal; how he was the reason for me to be in that Bible College.
Just as the worship died down and the time for testimony came, I was unable to control the shaking in my legs. But the assurance of knowing that “Brother Balasingh” was in the audience, and the God who had filled me with the Holy Spirit under the ministry of “Brother Balasingh” is the one who had brought me to that place, provided the inner strength to walk up to the stage. I have no memory of what I said. But one thing from that day has been etched in my memory and that was; when the words “Brother Balasingh” come out of my mouth, the whole chapel hall erupted in humongous laughter. It wasn’t a laughter in response to a humor; it was disdainful. My bewildered mind on the stage could not connect the dots for the cause of that laughter; I was lost. I don’t remember how I got down from the stage. But going back to the seat and asking my fellow seatmate about the laughter did I realize how terrible a mistake I had made in addressing the professor as a “Brother.” My seatmate suggested me the options I should have used to address him; “Doctor”, “Reverend” or at least “Pastor”, but the “Brother” was offensive. A terrible self-loathing swept over my soul. With all my affections, I had managed to disrespect the person I had so deeply respected.
After the chapel was over, Dr. Balasingh did come over and put his arms around my shoulders saying something which I don’t remember. I imagine he was comforting me as I still remember his gentle smile. But the damage was done by that monstrous laugher echoing from every corner of that sacred hall; mocking me. That deep sense of spiritual bond was broken; I felt I did not deserve such a bond anymore, and the fault was all mine. Never again during my college days was I able to muster the courage to go closer to Dr. Balasingh. It took years of ministry experience to convince myself that what I did on that day was not wrong at all; it was what the great apostle Paul would have liked to hear from his proteges. It is what I would like to hear from my church members, students and fellow ministers; unless I am conceited for self-glory.
Jesus tells the religious leaders about how their traditions have nullified the word of God; how they have abandoned the commandments of God but kept the traditions. So is true for so many Christian societies in the world where they have moved far away from God’s commandments of love and kinship in the church. Church has become a crowd; an audience that needs no genuine interpersonal relationships. People come to church just as they go to a mall and the pastor functions like the manager of the mall who knows how to lure his customers there. If the members don’t get what they were looking for, they can easily go to the next mall down the road.
This worldwide pandemic and lockdown has given us a breather to realize how much we ought to be meeting in person and worship the Lord together, not as customers in the mall, but as brothers and sisters in the Lord; as children in the home of a father who loves us dearly regardless of our differences of character. In a large family, each sibling is different from the other and these differences don’t pull the family apart; they make the family much richer in relationships.
Especially when tough times come, it is the family that will come to our rescue regardless of the existing differences. In the same way, a local church is that family in which we ought to experience such relationships. A pastor can play fatherly/brotherly role but he or she cannot be solely responsible to take care of every one. Each family member has to play its role to build a happy and joyful family in spite of existing difference.
The weak members in a family need more help from the stronger ones, and in the same way during this crisis of pandemic and lockdown, we need to take care of our weak members in the church. We need to demonstrate that we are truly God’s children by loving and helping one another. Yes, you can call your pastor a “Brother”!
No comments:
Post a Comment