1960년 즈음에 서울로, 서울로 불던 바람 덕분에, 누님 셋이 서울에 살고 있었기에, 국민학교를 졸업하자 중학교를 서울로 보내기로 아버지는 결정하셨습니다. “말은 제주로, 사람은 서울로!” 시험장에서 내가 서울말을 못 알아 들을까봐, 서울말 듣기 훈련을 위해 둘째 누님이 나를 찐빵 집으로 데려갔습니다. 그런데 사주신 빵만 먹고는 일어서는 동생을 안타까워 하셨던 기억이 남아 있습니다. 시골에서 공부를 잘한다는 소리를 들었지만, 서울입성은 쉽지를 않았습니다. 1차 용산중학교, 2차 청운중학교는 나를 반기지 않아서, 그 때 줄만 서면 가는 미아리 고개 넘어 산비탈에 있는 서라벌중학교에 들어가서, 한 동안 잘 다니다가 2학년 5월쯤 낙향했습니다.
고향에 돌아와서 바로 전학을 시도했지만 자리가 없다고 하는 바람에 “그럼 내년에 …하자”면서 쿨하게 돌아오신 아버지 덕분에, 참으로 행복한 1년을 동네 조무래기들과 함께 보냈던 기억이 있습니다. 그러다가 1년 후에 그 학교에 전학해서 결국 중학교를 졸업했지만 그 때 아버지가 세상을 떠나셨고, 가정형편이 어려워서, 어떤 협동조합에 “급사”로 다니다가, 그해 연말에 다시 서울을 향한 재 도전을 했습니다. 영등포에 있는 종합학원에 한 달을 다니며 고등학교 시험 준비를 했습니다. 성남고등학교나 중대부속고등학교를 기웃거리면서 계산을 해 보니 입학금, 등록금, 교복, 책값을 낼 돈은 겨우 되지만, 그 다음부터는 고학을 해야 되는데, 할 수 있는 일은 새벽에 신문을 돌리는 일이 전부이던 시대였습니다. 그건 새벽잠이 많은 나에게는 쥐약과 같았습니다. 그래서 결국 청진동에 있던 동광고시학원의 문을 두드렸고, 석달도 채 다니지 않고 검정고시를 쳤더니, 6과목은 합격했는데 국, 영, 수는 떨어졌고, 그 해 여름 다시 낙향을 하고 말았습니다. 그후 다시 시험을 치르고 통과를 했지만 말입니다.
그래저래 고려신학교 대학부를 거쳐서 신학대학원을 졸업하고 유학할 기회가 찾아와서, 남아프리카공화국에서 8년 동안 공부했고, 귀국하면서 세 번째 서울 입성시도를 했습니다. 86년 말에 장승배기에서 두레교회를, 2년 여 뒤에는 정릉에서 탄포리교회를 분립해서 개척경험을 두 차례 한 셈입니다. 장승백이는 중학교 때 살았던 신길동에서 멀지 않고, 정릉은 학교를 다닌 미아리에서 멀지 않았으니, 그렇게 낯선 곳은 아니었습니다. 하나님은 우리의 경험조차도 헛되이 보시지 않고 재활용하시는 분인가 봅니다. 스무 명이 채 되지 않는 장승배기 개척교회는, 개척 2년을 넘어가면서 공간 20평에 150~160명으로 자랐으니 대안을 찾아 정릉으로 분립개척을 하게 된 것입니다. 서로 불화해서가 아니라 우리 교회와 같은 좋은 신앙공동체가 강북에도 하나 있었으면 하는 순수한 마음에서 출발했습니다. 거기서 7년 가까이 사역하다가 울산교회의 부름을 받아 24년 동안 사역하고 은퇴를 했습니다.
그리하여 저의 네 번째 수도권 진입시도는 에스라성경대학원대학교의 부름 때문입니다. 은퇴를 몇 년 앞두고 설립자이자 명예이사장께서 목회를 은퇴하면 딱 1년만 쉬고 학교로 오라는 제안을 했습니다. 그러면서 “그런데 아직 기도를 해 본 것은 아닙니다”라고 하기에 별 생각없이 지냈고, 막상 때가 되었을 때는 “하나님, 왜 제가 가서 뒤치다꺼리를 한다고 4년이나 썩어야 합니까? 가고 싶지 않습니다 “ 그 생각을 하는 동시에 생애 처음으로 느껴보는, 하나님의 뜻을 거역하는 두려움이 엄습하기에 바로 무릎을 꿇었습니다. 용서의 무릎을 꿇고, 여전히 이해는 되지 않지만, 하나님의 뜻에 순종하기로 기도했습니다. 기도의 자리에서 일어나는 순간 물으셨습니다. “4년 썩기 싫다고? 그 4년이 네 4년이냐?” 정신이 번쩍 들었습니다. 하루 아침 일어나는 것도 우리 뜻대로 되는 것이 아닙니다. 고양으로 올라온지 한 달도 되지 않아, 설립자가 하늘의 부름을 받았을 때, 안가겠다고 닭발을 지긴 것이 부끄러웠습니다. 마침내 수도권 진입해서 3년이 다 되어가는 요즈음, 주말에 한 번씩 북한산을 오르거나 한양도성을 걷기도 하고, 100킬로를 달려도, 멀리 또는 가깝게 북한산을 바라보면서 라이딩하니, 이 또한 수도권 진입 덕분에 주어진 선물입니다.
Around 1960, caught in the prevailing wind blowing toward Seoul—and with three older sisters already living there—my father decided to send me to middle school in Seoul as soon as I graduated from primary school. As the old proverb goes, "Send horses to Jeju, and humans to Seoul!" Fearing that I might not understand the Seoul dialect in the exam hall, my second older sister took me to a steamed bun shop so I could get used to hearing the standard accent. Yet I still vividly recall how she felt so sorry for me when I merely ate the buns she bought and stood right back up, oblivious to her intention. Even though people in the countryside praised me as a bright student, entering Seoul was far from easy. Yongsan Middle School in the first round and Cheongun Middle School in the second round turned me down. In the end, I entered Seorabeol Middle School, perched on a mountain slope beyond the Miari Pass—a school that practically accepted anyone who stood in line. I attended for a while without trouble, but around May of my second year, I had to return to my hometown in disappointment.
Upon returning home, we tried to transfer me immediately into a local school, but they said there were no openings. My father coolly said, "Well, let's do it next year then..." Thanks to his easygoing attitude, I spent a truly joyful year running around with the neighborhood kids. A year later, I finally transferred to that school and finished middle school. But around that time, my father passed away. Under difficult financial circumstances, I worked as an errand boy at a local cooperative. Then, toward the end of that year, I dared to challenge Seoul once more. I attended a cram school in Yeongdeungpo for a month to prepare for high school entrance exams. Pondering over Seongnam High School and the affiliated high school of Chung-Ang University, I did the math: my money was barely enough to cover admission, tuition, uniforms, and textbooks. After that, I would have had to work my way through school. In those days, the only available job for someone like me was delivering morning newspapers. For someone who loved to sleep in, that felt like sheer poison. So eventually, I knocked on the door of Donggwang Qualification Exam Academy in Cheongjin-dong. After studying there for less than three months, I sat for the high school equivalency exam. I passed six subjects, but failed Korean, English, and mathematics. That summer, I had no choice but to head back to the countryside once again—though later on, I retook the exam and passed.
Eventually, through the college division of Korea Theological Seminary, I graduated from the theological seminary. Then came an opportunity to study abroad, leading to eight years of study in South Africa. Upon returning to Korea, I made my third attempt to enter Seoul. In late 1986, I planted Dure Church in Jangseungbaegi, and about two years later, we branched out to plant Tanpori Church in Jeongneung—giving me the experience of pioneering two church plants. Jangseungbaegi was not far from Singil-dong, where I had lived in middle school, and Jeongneung was close to Miari, where I had attended school, so neither felt completely foreign. Truly, God is One who never wastes our experiences, but recycles and redeems them all. The church plant in Jangseungbaegi, which began with fewer than twenty people, grew to 150–160 members in a cramped space of merely 700 square feet after two years. Seeking a solution, we initiated a daughter church plant in Jeongneung. It was not born out of conflict, but out of a pure desire to establish another vibrant community of faith like ours north of the Han River. After ministering there for nearly seven years, I received a call from Ulsan Church, where I served for 24 years before retiring.
And so, my fourth entry into the capital region came through the call of Ezra Bible Graduate University. A few years before my retirement, the founder and honorary chairman of the board suggested that after retiring from pastoral ministry, I take just one year off and then join the school. When he added, "Though I haven't prayed about it yet," I brushed it off without much thought. But when the time actually arrived, my inner complaint flared up: "Lord, why must I waste away four whole years doing cleanup work there? I really don't want to go." Yet the very moment that thought crossed my mind, a terrifying dread of defying God's will—something I had never experienced in my entire life—swept over me, and I instantly fell to my knees. Falling on my knees in repentance, even though I still could not understand, I prayed to obey God's will. The instant I stood up from prayer, a voice seemed to ask: "You don't want to waste four years? Are those four years yours to claim?" It jolted me awake. Getting up in the morning is not even something within our own power. Less than a month after I moved up to Goyang, the founder went home to the Lord. How ashamed I felt for having stubbornly resisted going! Now, approaching three years since settling into the capital region, I find myself climbing Bukhansan on weekends or strolling along the Seoul City Wall. Even during a 100-kilometer bicycle ride, gazing at Bukhansan from near and far, I realize this, too, is a gracious gift granted through my return to the capital area.
Rondom 1960, danksy die destydse wind wat sterk in die rigting van Seoel gewaai het—en aangesien drie van my ouer susters reeds daar gewoon het—het my pa besluit om my na middelskool in Seoel te stuur sodra ek klaar was met laerskool. Soos die ou gesegde lui: "Stuur perde na Jeju, en mense na Seoel!" Uit vrees dat ek nie die Seoel-dialek in die eksamenlokaal sou begryp nie, het my tweede oudste suster my na 'n winkel geneem wat gestoomde broodjies verkoop het, sodat ek aan die streektaal gewoond kon raak. Tog onthou ek nog hoe jammer sy my gekry het toe haar boetie bloot die gekoopte broodjies opgeëet en dadelik opgestaan het, salig onbewus van haar goeie bedoelings. Alhoewel mense op die platteland gesê het dat ek goed presteer op skool, was dit glad nie maklik om 'n vastrapplek in Seoel te kry nie. Yongsan Middelskool in die eerste rondte en Cheongun Middelskool in die tweede rondte het my die deur gewys. Uiteindelik het ek by Seorabeol Middelskool beland, geleë teen die berghang verby die Miari-pas—'n skool waar jy destyds net in die ry hoef te gestaan het om aanvaar te word. Ek het 'n ruk lank daar skoolgegaan, maar teen Mei van my tweede jaar moes ek maar weer teleurgesteld terugkeer na my tuisdorp.
Toe ek by die huis aankom, het ons dadelik probeer om my by 'n plaaslike skool in te skryf, maar hulle het gesê daar was geen plek nie. My pa het kalm gesê: "Nou ja, laat ons dit dan volgende jaar probeer..." Danksy sy gemoedelike houding het ek 'n werklik gelukkige jaar deurgebring terwyl ek saam met die buurt se kinders rondgespeel het. 'n Jaar later kon ek uiteindelik na daardie skool oorskakel en my middelskoolloopbaan voltooi. Maar omtrent daardie tyd is my pa oorlede. Weens ons moeilike finansiële omstandighede het ek as 'n boodskapper by 'n plaaslike koöperasie gaan werk. Teen die einde van daardie jaar het ek weer my visier op Seoel gerig. Ek het 'n maand lank 'n hupstootakademie in Yeongdeungpo bygewoon om vir die hoërskooltoelatingseksamens voor te berei. Terwyl ek Seongnam Hoërskool en die hoërskool verbonde aan Chung-Ang Universiteit oorweeg het, het ek die somme gemaak: die geld was skaars genoeg vir die toelatingsfooi, klasgeld, uniforms en handboeke. Daarna sou ek self my pad moes oopwerk. In daardie dae was die enigste beskikbare werk om douvoordag koerante af te lewer. Vir iemand soos ek wat so graag soggens slaap, was dit pure gif. Uiteindelik het ek aan die deur van die Donggwang-eksamenakademie in Cheongjin-dong geklop. Nadat ek minder as drie maande daar gestudeer het, het ek die matriekekwivalensie-eksamen afgelê. Ek het in ses vakke geslaag, maar in Koreaans, Engels en wiskunde gedruip. Daardie somer moes ek opnuut met leë hande na my tuisdorp terugkeer—alhoewel ek later die eksamens weer afgelê en geslaag het.
Deur allerhande omweë het ek uiteindelik deur die voorgraadse afdeling van Korea Teologiese Seminarium gevorder en aan die teologiese kweekskool afgestudeer. Toe het die geleentheid gekom om in die buiteland te studeer, en ek het agt jaar lank in Suid-Afrika deurgebring. Met my terugkeer na my vaderland het ek my derde poging aangewend om Seoel binne te gaan. Teen die einde van 1986 het ek Dure Gemeente in Jangseungbaegi geplant, en sowat twee jaar later Tanpori Gemeente in Jeongneung as 'n dogtergemeente afgestig—wat beteken het dat ek twee keer die pionierswerk van 'n nuwe gemeente beleef het. Jangseungbaegi was nie ver van Singil-dong waar ek as middelskoolseun gewoon het nie, en Jeongneung was naby Miari waar ek skoolgegaan het; dit was dus geensins vreemde plekke vir my nie. Waarlik, God ag selfs ons geringste ervarings nie as vergeefs nie, maar hergebruik en heilig dit. Die nuwe gemeente in Jangseungbaegi, wat met minder as twintig mense begin het, het na twee jaar gegroei tot 150–160 lidmate in 'n beknopte lokaal van skaars 70 vierkante meter. Op soek na 'n uitweg het ons besluit op 'n afstigting na Jeongneung. Dit was nie weens enige onenigheid nie, maar uit 'n suiwer begeerte om ook noord van die Han-rivier 'n hegte geloofsgemeenskap soos ons s'n te vestig. Nadat ek byna sewe jaar lank daar gearbei het, het ek die beroep na Ulsan Gemeente aanvaar, waar ek vir 24 jaar gedien het tot met my emeritaat.
My vierde intog na die hoofstadstreek het gekom deur die roepstem van Ezra Bybelse Nagraadse Universiteit. 'n Paar jaar voor my aftrede het die stigter en ere-voorsitter van die raad voorgestel dat ek, nadat ek as leraar emeriteer, net een jaar rus neem en dan universiteit toe kom. Toe hy byvoeg: "Maar ek het nog nie werklik daaroor gebid nie," het ek dit sonder veel nadenke van my afgeskud. Maar toe die tyd uiteindelik aanbreek, het die opstandigheid in my binneste opgevlam: "Here, waarom moet ek vier jaar lank daar gaan wegkwyn net om ander mense se sake agtermekaar te kry? Ek wil regtig nie gaan nie." Maar op dieselfde oomblik toe daardie gedagte by my opkom, het 'n vrees vir die verset teen God se wil—iets wat ek nog nooit vantevore in my lewe ervaar het nie—my oorval, en ek het dadelik op my knieë geval. Op my knieë van vergifnis, steeds sonder om dit ten volle te begryp, het ek gebid om aan God se wil gehoorsaam te wees. Net toe ek van my gebedsknieë opstaan, het die vraag gekom: "Wil jy nie vier jaar lank daar wees nie? Is daardie vier jaar dan joune om oor te beskik?" Ek het dadelik tot my sinne gekom. Selfs om soggens ons oë oop te maak, gebeur immers nie uit ons eie krag nie. Minder as 'n maand nadat ek na Goyang verhuis het, is die stigter hemel toe geroep. Hoe skaam het ek gevoel oor my koppige teësinn om te gaan! Noudat dit byna drie jaar is sedert my intog in die hoofstadstreek, klim ek oor naweke Bukhansan uit of stap langs die ou stadsmuur van Hanyang. Selfs wanneer ek 'n 100-kilometer fietstoer onderneem en Bukhansan van ver en naby aanskou, besef ek dat ook dít 'n kosbare genadegawe is wat my geskenk is danksy my terugkeer na die hoofstad.