Over the past ten days, my time spent between the Laos mission field and the revival meetings at Yanggok Church in the city of Changwon, Korea became, in many ways, two experiences at opposite extremes. Yet together, they formed a season of deep challenge, learning, and reflection.
Laos is one of the poorest countries in the world economically. Politically, it is a communist dictatorship modeled after China and Vietnam, while at the same time it is cautiously experimenting with a capitalist economic system. Korea, by contrast, was once told after the Korean War that it would take at least sixty years for the nation to truly recover. Yet Korea has undergone rapid development, and as of last year, individual income surpassed that of Japan, placing Korea firmly among advanced economies. Changwon stands at the center of Korea’s industrial growth and has played a major role in the nation’s economic development. I was surprised to see nearby defense industries manufacturing tanks and aircraft.
When Rev. Yongsoo Ji invited me to lead the revival meetings, I had only seen him through broadcast sermons and knew very little about him or about Yanggok Church. Before leaving, I heard two kinds of comments from people who knew I was going. One was that it was a very large church. The other was that its ministry culture was quite different from the kind of pastoral culture I pursue.
I arrived at the church still struggling with jet lag. A severe cold wave had been forecast for the first day of the revival, so I expected the sanctuary to be sparsely filled. Instead, the large sanctuary was full of loud praise and applause. The congregation responded to the worship leader’s calls with “Amen” and “Hallelujah” with the energy and enthusiasm of a World Cup soccer crowd. Before the sermon, everyone stood up and did light exercises together, affirming that the body, mind, and spirit must all be healthy.
Many teenagers and young adults attended both the early morning and evening services. I found it deeply admirable that all generations worshiped using the same spiritual language. Seeing foreign workers attending the services also reminded me that world mission is now coming to Korea. Hundreds of church leaders sat in the front rows, fully focused on worship, and their presence was deeply impressive.
The early morning services were quieter and more contemplative, centered on prayer and the Word. The evening services, by contrast, felt like a concert where praise and prayer loosened both body and soul. Watching the congregation smile brightly, sing joyfully, dance, and worship with genuine happiness challenged and taught me much. On the church walls were slogans that read: “Yanggok Church—100,000 members! Evangelism! We can do it! If we try, it will happen! Let’s do it!” As a pastor serving an immigrant church, such language felt somewhat distant from my own reality. Yet in an age when evangelism feels increasingly difficult, the very fact that a church dares to dream of growth and revival felt deeply encouraging.
After the revival meetings, I returned to Seoul and met with several pastors I know well. Many of them asked questions, often in connection with the well-known challenges facing large churches in Korea. The underlying concern seemed to be that my pastoral image did not easily align with the image they had of that church.
My answer was simple: I do not see things that way. Although I am a Methodist pastor, I have led revival meetings in many conservative Presbyterian churches, as well as preached the Word of God in progressive Presbyterian churches. In every setting, the core message remains the same.
Everything has two sides. I came to realize how much Rev. Ji had prayed before inviting me as the speaker. Some say he is closely connected to Rev. Samhwan Kim(former pastor of the largest Presbyterian church in Korea) and practices a so-called “imperial” style of leadership. At the same time, there are people who describe me from the opposite end of the spectrum. Knowing this, I understood that Rev. Ji had taken a significant risk in inviting me to lead the revival. That awareness only deepened my gratitude.
At the Laos mission field, I witnessed a glimpse of heaven when children shouted with joy and ran happily each time the young missionary couple passed through the village. At Yanggok Church, I saw another vision of heaven in the faces of believers joyfully proclaiming blessings over Korea, committing themselves to world mission, declaring a new year of healing for body, mind, and spirit, and crying out together for the fullness of the Holy Spirit and overflowing grace.
“To write, what must one do?”
“One must love.”
— Paulo Coelho, Aleph
The same is true of pastoral ministry. It is, ultimately, about loving—loving people, loving the church, loving the work God entrusts to us. And it is about living with gratitude and joy.
