Humble Start
It’s good to see our church in a new age. Technology has overtaken us old folks. Keeping steps with the wave will save us from obsoletion and redundancy. Yet as a community we have come a long way. Lest we forget the humble ground from which we arose, let’s make a quick look at our formative days. They told me I was born in our village soon after my family arrived here (1949), for my dad’s appointment as a pastor of the NEIG Mission. I was also told that our church was at the foot of the banyan tree; and our house was just 40 feet away from there. They said it was actually a small hut, framed with wooden poles and posts. Water reeds formed the walls, sun grass used for the roof (one member even insisted that banana leaves were also used), and a few rows of tied down bamboo poles provided the seats for worshippers. The hut was corralled in outside with wooden poles to keep away stray cattle. It surely must be a humble beginning.
The Church
Soon the church was shifted on higher ground, the adjacent hillock to the west, where it remained throughout my childhood. I still have glimpses of this church, enlarged and renovated as often. In time the bamboo walls gave way to wood planks, but the roof continued to be thatched. Hurricane lamps and later on, petromax, were sources of light. During festivals decorations meant just some colored papers on strings, and few candle sticks on the walls. I recall the haithak (first fruits) celebrations, when farm produces like cucumbers; water melons and marshmallows were freely consumed and enjoyed. The top and bottom caps of cucumbers, thrown by the young men from the church-hill, floating over the houses below are still in memory. Christmas was a time of feast and much fanfare, sports and dramas. There were many tales and incidences, true instances, but remembered somewhat vaguely and blurred. Practicing of songs and choirs in the church were year round happenings.
The pastor was often away on tours of his area. There were two elders, Pahau and Pausing, because Niangnou’pa had passed away soon after inaugurating the first “hut church”. A third elder I knew was Zamneng, migrated a bit later from Parvachom village. A year or two spent in my early teens as the caretaker of the church were unforgettable. In the nights, four times a week, I brought from home a lighted petromax to the church, and brought it back after the services. It was nice to spend a few minutes of quiet time, after dusting the benches and opening the windows, before people arrived. I really cherished the memories: it was here in this church that I later had accepted the Lord. Even taking broken petromax for repair to town, incidentally on foot, to the cycle workshops near the police station, were precious memories never told before.
There is no denying that everyone was poor at that time. But in the midst of poverty people
cared for each other. Social life was at its best, sharing was natural and normal. Parents were all first-generation Christians, so they possessed great zeal and commitment. Many times, in the nights I witnessed some fathers, gathering in the pastor’s house, after night services to “discuss the Bible”. People were all cultivators, working in the fields six days a week. Yet somehow, they found time for church worship. Great sermons were unlikely, yet all attended the services, and they loved singing songs. One founding member, before he died, told me that there were times, while returning from their works, he and a friend, another father, often attended the church, which happened to be on their way home, wearing their working clothes, and then coming home for supper only after the close of the service. In this humble nursery precious seeds were sown that would later germinate; and continued to do so even today. It surely was a humble beginning.
Children’s Sunday School – Behind the church and under the big trees, one of the finest sunday schools in our land began. The number of children must have grown quickly, as all the children could not be accommodated in the small hut. Some taught in the open, while the children sat on the ground and on big protruding giant roots of the trees, and even on the low branches. Nature was very close. Sights of beautiful orchids overhead on the branches, colorful birds with sweet notes of calls, and seasonal insect choruses, were simple pleasures not fully appreciated at the time.
Teachers were pioneers, simple, unlearned and untrained, but devoted. Weekly a service was conducted one night in the church for children. Among others, Sunday school teacher Thanglian @ Mama, later ordained elder, was a real mentor and role model for me. Song leader V. Khamthawng, now a Presbyterian Pastor, began the foundation for our church music, teaching us tonic solfas, choruses, and songs. As children, and then as youths, we learnt under him many songs and choirs, some of them his own compositions. Every annual children’s conference held as far away as Vungbuk(Tuilaphai), Gelzang and Saikul villages, we came back with top prizes, both in scripture recitations and songs! Unelaborated and unadulterated Scripture verses and Spiritual songs, in the hands of the Master, are all time best tools and effective sermons. Many girls and boys came back as teachers to the Sunday school after becoming adults. All the earlier teachers were now gone, but others came in. The school never stop growing, the number of children, and the teachers too, still is increasing. It is amazing today; we have started an ambitious building project. By God’s grace children now numbered in the hundreds, teachers are qualified, and all our needs are provided. Truly we are humbled.
The Convention School - When a school was started in our village, I was in the first batch of students. Here I found my second role model in the only teacher. Evangelist Lalzem conducted morning devotions daily, and took all the classes (the school was up to class II), maintaining discipline, and even leading the social works. Single handed, he molded and shaped the village urchins, all first-time schoolers and set them on their ways to realize their dreams. This great man had not much credentials or qualifications whatsoever. Once more, a humble beginning.
Now I know, everything was in God’s agenda. The village became “educated” in time; we could all read and write. Bible, songbooks, and other books are now intelligible. When the school was upgraded to class VI, more teachers joined. Through our school professionals like health workers, teachers and theologians were eventually produced. When the mission school was withdrawn, even this was a blessing in disguise. Our local church leadership, was guided to begin a new venture. Our church sponsored Hermon English school started in this way, and now we can see where it is. The various achievements and its alumni are impressive. Through the Years We are a miracle, a living testimony, of God lifting up unknown, nameless nomads from oblivion, transplanting them in a new frontier, and nursing them through the years, to be his own. After so many years, today all the pioneers were gone; a new set of generation is in place. A few survivors can tell us the whole landscape itself was irretrievably transformed. Our church has even spawned two more big congregations. Bethany EBCC and Newlane EBCC, in their turn, have grown, having their own local pastors. Here and now in this electronic age, we are in the threshold of moving on further into the global village, and be God’s heralds. We are sure to survive and prosper in this new era, only if he is with us, and leading us. Once again, it’s a beginning. Let us be humble.
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[Source: http://ebccbungmual.church/testing/ - 18.06.2020 a honkhiak]
