Eunice Ngongkum
SPECIAL OFFERING
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Edela could not move. He sat glued to the bench by some invisible force. He addressed a tormented prayer heavenward wrenched from the very depths of his soul. “Lord God Almighty, what is happening here? Father, what is wrong with your servant? What is the matter with the pastor? From a cupboard? Who put him in that cupboard? An offering? The pastor? What kind of offering is this, Lord? Hmm. Speak to me. Please, speak to me, great One, I pray.” The boy moaned, searching for answers. The spectacle was sickening. No one present apparently felt the way he did. If some of the parishioners knew anything, it was not evident to the lad. He was rather preoccupied with the naked figure standing there. The very ebullient Pastor Kenah of Sim fame standing crestfallen before his flock, released from a cupboard offered the congregation by Deacon Kong Lam.
“My God,” the young convert whined in a barely audible voice. He avoided the face of the man of God who stood there like a lamb led to the slaughter. No one in the church moved. All seemed glued to their benches too. The power holding the boy down was ubiquitous. But for Deacons Mbili and Wong, who opened the offered cupboard, no one stirred. The two men too stood still, visibly taken aback by the contents of the grim cubbyhole.
“Can someone tell me what is wrong with the pastor?” Edela spoke aloud to himself. No one heard him. No one responded. He shook himself to break free from the ghoulish power fixing his buttocks to the bench. He could not. The force choked him.
“Oh God,” the youngster cried in sudden fear, “the nightmares! Hei, my nightmares! But why? Again? No.” He held his head in both hands to still the confusion there. “No, God, this is impossible. Pastor Kenah finished my deliverance last week! What then is this? Affliction cannot arise a second time. I stand my ground. Out, out in Jesus’ name! You cannot stay. Out in Jesus’ name.” The command was feeble but the boy fought defiantly to assure himself. “Pastor said it was finished. I am born again. I have given my life to Jesus Christ. My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. God himself dwells there. So demons cannot stand God’s presence, my presence. So what oppression is this? The naked pastor! The pastor? Is he responsible?”
Edela shook his head in denial but the spectacle was real. It was suffocating. Another desperate effort to stand up and walk out was futile. The nightmares taunted but, resolute even in confusion, he stood his ground. “You have failed, devil. I say you have failed,” the boy spoke through clenched teeth. “You cannot win again. I say you cannot. The pastor cannot be my nightmare. There you lie. Pastor Kenah’s soul stirring sermon of the 24th of December 2004 moved my burdened soul to change camp. Satan, you are a liar. I left your camp,” Edela concluded triumphant while mentally revisiting the day of his conversion. An altar call. An irresistible force propelling him forward to the altar. There, he unashamedly wept profusely, begging God to forgive his sins. The very sins sketched in the sermon. The neophyte recalled how, thereafter, the man of God took him and all who answered the call that day under his wings. A hen gathering its chicks to protect them from hawks. He would personally disciple them into followers of Jesus Christ. So who was responsible for this mess?
The young man looked up again at the naked man transfixed before the equally transfixed parishioners. The sun shone brightly. Its sharp rays penetrated the windows of the church building, seemingly mocking the helpless man’s attempts to shield his dangling manhood from the bewildered assembly looking on, petrified. Then someone from the back of the church screamed in a shrill voice. That strange force holding the crowd spellbound melted. It reluctantly relaxed its ominous hold on the people. The church slowly came alive. The people woke from the reverie; from a dream turned sour. A dream no one desired a repeat performance. It was an eternity. Then pandemonium broke loose. Everyone, including the naked man, surged forward en masse towards the door, spilling out into the streets of Sim village like rivulets of rain water looking for where to penetrate the ground.
* * * *
Reverend Pastor Kenah Clement Kang was the third pastor to answer the call to serve God at Sim Bible Church, Simlam, Ngechene division of the North Eastern Region of Naiseh. He was tall, handsome and fair-skinned, aged thirty-five. God’s call on his life came ten years before in the University of Naiseh while he was reading for a sociology degree. How God translated him from the mundane to kingdom service was as impressive as Paul’s testimony. It was the principal source of many a sermon. Experience is the best teacher, they say. In a stirring lyrical voice, the holy man of God often detailed the process. The very owner of human souls, God himself, stepped into his messed up life in a flash and transformed it. Now he too was a fisher of men. His listeners relished the story that never grew old with telling. It spoke of that grace capable of changing a sinner into a saint. His listeners prayed that grace to meet them on their way to Damascus. It happened for many. Young converts, like Edela, were proof. Their next step was Mender Theological Seminary, their pastor’s alma mater. Here, they too looked forward to being trained as soul winners. As a man is so are his followers.
The preacher, however, warned the aspirants that the pastoral ministry was not a bed of roses for it was paved with temptations and trials. It was not the road for the weak willed, the easily discouraged and the fearful. It was for the determined, the courageous and resilient. His own life was testimony to these truths. In the seminary, his zeal for evangelism bore fruit in the conversion of a young girl. She became his disciple but soon the marriage menu presented itself. The damsel made no bones about this. It was written all over her features. Talk about the hurdles of ministry? Here they were in the person of this young woman who probably gave her life to Christ because she was looking for a husband. Alas! many come to God for his hand not his heart. This is the sad reality. He was already affianced to Larissa by then so he told her. Hell broke loose. Miffed, the young woman bidded time. Your enemy the devil prowls around seeking whom to devour. Her moment came. One evening, she surprisingly came to his room for the discipleship session which normally took place in the church. Kenah smelled a rat and asked that they move to the minster. She would not budge. That is how they found her, sitting on his bed. It was all part of the plan for she had already informed some of his classmates and the dean of studies, Reverend Dr. Ebenezer Penn, that he had abused her sexually. Without investigation, as is the practice, the authorities believed her. There and then, they decided that this wolf in sheep clothing must be unmasked and hatched this plan with the girl to get him pants down. Kenah was brought before the disciplinary council of the institution but the same grace that had saved him was at work. It came alive in Reverend Dang, his teacher and mentor, who alone stood to his defence. This holy man’s integrity, legendary in the precincts of that noble establishment and beyond, was worth its weight before the assembly. The student pastor was not expelled. Discipline was however meted because the girl had been found in his room, something that was discouraged on campus. Kenah took the punishment humbly.
“So you see, brothers and sisters,” the man of God told his flock, “being pastor demands sacrifice, self-discipline and the capacity to love even the unlovable. True, we are saved to serve. But the service area can be your house, your family, your place of work or your community. Not necessarily as a servant in the vineyard. The word of God says that not all should be teachers for teachers will be judged more severely than others.” He smiled, and then said, “now, teachers, relax. I don’t mean you. Keep your jobs oh. Don’t go and resign for fear of judgement.” There was hushed laughter in the congregation, then the pastor continued, “I am referring to the pastor, to the servant of God who is first and foremost a teacher of God’s word. You may ask the question, is the pastor not human? Is he not flesh and blood? My brethren, this is the answer. You who teach, are you taught? You who teach, do you practice your teaching? There, you are. As a servant of God, drawing his example from his saviour, the pastor must teach by example. He must be able to reach beyond self to do this. He can do it. He must do this because it is required of him. He is supposed to be Christ in his generation.” The preacher’s eyes roamed the congregation for a few minutes to let the effect of what he had just said sink in then, he spoke again. “Young people, who want to follow in my footsteps, yours is a noble desire. However, I encourage you to consider the matter carefully before taking a final decision.”
There was a pause. The cleric was praying. After a while, he began to nod his head as if responding to someone. The assembly knew he was receiving an epiphany and was instantly quiet. You could hear a pin drop. He confirmed. “A word from the Lord, brethren, hmm. God is saying something.” Then he looked up, “The Lord is showing me two young men in this congregation who have his call on their lives, Halleluiah. I don’t know who they are, but the Lord says, ‘come before me for twenty-one days. Fast and pray. I will speak clearly to you on this matter.’ If the Holy Spirit is convicting you on this count, please yield to Him. Take the fast and pray. Come and see me if you believe you are the one.”
“Praise the Lord!” the man of God shouted.
“Halleluiah,” the people responded, drums, rams’ horns, guitars and shakers adding to the din.
“The Lord is good,”
“All the time”
“And all the time,”
“The Lord is good.”
On this note, Reverend Clement Kenah ended his sermon. He prayed and deftly steered the congregation away to the other concerns of the day.
* * * *
Deacon Josiah Kong Lam and his wife Marian had been in Sim for close to ten years. He was the Senior Discipline Master of Sim Government Secondary School. Posted here as a teacher of history, he rose to this post after seven years. He was as committed to his work as to the church where he was appointed deacon. The members of Sim Bible Church elected him on the strength of his dedication to his wife, three children, his job and the church. Even without seeking God’s face, as was the practice, they voted him. Devotion, in whatever sense, is gain.
Kong Lam was serious and loyal. The then pastor, reverend Isaac Bong, left for further studies. Kong Lam had to find his replacement. He went to the seminary in Mender. Here, he hoped to get information on the pastors who had been trained here. Mender was the nursery for pastors of Bible Church congregations in all of Naiseh. The appointed deacon did not search for long. The president of the seminary, a long-time friend, recommended pastor Clement Kenah who had graduated a year before. Kong Lam returned to Sim to duly report his findings to the church which had the sole prerogative to extend a call to a pastor. A Christian meeting was convened. The appointed deacon spoke in glowing terms of the young man whom he was yet to meet. The Christian body somehow took to him too. The vote was unanimous. Kong Lam could proceed with the arrangements.
Kenah was serving at Wailung Bible Church. Already, his effectiveness was evident in the converts and maturing parishioners there. Sim Bible Church was searching for someone like this who was already proving himself in the field. This was normal Bible Church practice. You went for the best. So, Sim sent the letter and the young pastor asked for time to seek God. This was the standard. There is a way that seems right to a man, they say, but the end thereof is destruction. Kenah did not want to choose the way of perdition and so he prayed. Sim waited confidently. Somehow they knew the pastor would come. Some unexplained chemistry bonded them. The parsonage was renovated, new furniture bought was installed and an attractive salary package was prepared for the man of God. The people were eager to please him even in the material things. Was the man of God not flesh and blood? He too was entitled to comfort. Do not muzzle an ox while it treads the grain. In the end, Kenah responded positively. The congregation was excited and everyone set to work to make God’s servant feel at home here. The Kong Lam family was particularly involved. Marian Kong Lam, the president of Sim Bible Church Women’s Association, held several meetings with the women. Her idea was to have the women break into groups to ensure a steady supply of food to the pastor and his family until they found their feet in Sim. This was vintage Sim. Nothing extra.
The long awaited day arrived. Sim was her best. It was a Friday. Members trooped to church as early as 2 p.m. Civil servants took permission from their offices to be present. Deacon Kong Lam, his wife and the youth president went to the divisional headquarters, Bamale, to receive the pastor and personally bring him to Sim. The “Ngechene Express” bus transporting the pastor, his wife and three children, the appointed deacon, his wife and the youth president, drove into the church compound at exactly 4:35 p.m. amidst ululations and shouts of joy. Christ was making a triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Songs burst forth. Drums and shakers added rhythm to the festive atmosphere as the church members outdid each other in expressions of joy. The pastor was beside himself. This was true fellowship, a picture of heaven. His heart went out to the people. Earlier misgivings collapsed under the weight of sincere welcome. The common meal ended, he stood up and spoke with emotion.
“Thank you, good people of God. Thank you very much for the warm and genuine welcome. I am glad to be here. My family and I are grateful to be here. Words fail me. All I can say is thank you again and again. I pray we work together in His vineyard. God will grant us the grace. The fields are white. The reapers are few. This brief interaction tells me we can be the needed reapers. We can accomplish much together, halleluiah. Thank you all. May God bless you and keep you. May he make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. May he lift his countenance upon you and give you peace, Amen.” On this note, Reverend Kenah Clement Kang began his pastoral ministry among the Sim folk.
* * * *
Do not judge a masquerade when he first enters the arena with enticing measured steps. Do not judge a story when its teller grips your attention with arresting opening riddles. Reverend Pastor Kenah Clement Kang settled down to work among the loving people of Sim. The first project on his agenda was an evangelistic crusade. Close to fifty souls were converted in one go. It was a miracle. Healings, deliverances and breakthroughs added to the exploits. Something was happening at Sim. God was at work through his servant, Kenah Clement. The holy man’s fame spread like a bushfire in the Harmattan. Stories of his spiritual feats became daily myths. Rumour told how he rendered the local deities of Simlam powerless after a seven day fast resulting in the cleansing of the land. The hold of adultery, prostitution and generally wayward behaviour on the population was thus broken forever. Like the Queen of Sheba making that historic expedition to famed Solomon’s courts, many came to see things for themselves and Sim thus became a pilgrimage centre in all of Ngechene division and beyond. Sunday church attendance dramatically increased. The church building became small and it was evident that the old structure would have to make way for a bigger and better one. The congregation was ready for this. After all were the white fields not being reaped? God was at work in Sim. His work was being done. A true prophet of God was here. The church bathed in the glory of their under shepherd.
Kenah was a man of the people. Three months into his stay, he had already visited all the members of his congregation. He knew everyone intimately. This was the ideal. He offered counsel. He prayed for his flock regularly. The people loved him in return. Here was the good shepherd, not the hired hand. Here was balance. Here was God. Reaching out to the lost, reaching in to the herd. Nothing could be this beautiful. Paradise on earth. Live. Oh! that it would last. Oh! that it would endure. The Kong Lams were special in this scheme of things. The man of God cherished them. They were his immediate family. He never forgot that the deacon was the instrument God used to bring him here.
* * *
Fate, however, has a way of playing foul games with the best of human intentions. The gods of Sim, it would seem, never forgot that affront to their honour. In a last ditch attempt to recover their lost glory, they requested and obtained permission from their master to lick up the efforts of the man of God like a cow licks up grass on the mountainside. The scene was set. Fortuitous circumstances in the church at the time provided the needed wings.
The Appointed Deacon was raised to head a newly created government secondary school in Bamale, the capital. There was joy in the church. This was added proof that God was with the people. The Kong Lams organised a thanksgiving ceremony during which the happy man stood up to speak. “Dear man of God, dear brothers and sisters in the Lord, thank you all for the prayers and good wishes for me and my family. This is God’s doing. Thank you for accepting our offering which to us does not match what the Almighty has done. We hope to make it bigger and better next time, God being our helper. We believe such a time will soon be here. As it stands, my family will not accompany me immediately to Bamale. I will go first and assess things before coming back for them. Marian’s store in the market here is doing pretty well. I need to find out about business prospects in Bamale before she moves. I will be here for the weekends, so we are still together. I leave my family in your care, brethren.” He turned to the pastor, “Pastor, my family is in your hands oh, brother. Please take good care of them. I can sleep in peace in Bamale with you here. God bless you all.”
Kenah stood up, embraced his deacon and then spoke with sincerity. “Brother Kong Lam, you know that you can count on us. You can count on me. I promise before this congregation to be a father to your children and husband to your wife, my sister Marian, in your absence. We are one another’s keeper, remember? Your family is in good hands, brother. Be at peace.”
The man of God made good his word. He went to the Kong Lams daily to see Marian and the children. Weekends were the exception because Kong Lam was around. No one knew exactly how it happened but something did happen that tornadoed this idyll. Had flesh vanquished the spirit? No one could say. Had God abandoned his people? No one could affirm with certitude. But no one fathomed the dimension things took. Before anyone could lay a finger on what was happening, wicked tongues began to wag about the pastor and the appointed deacon’s wife. They crossed the valleys as they are wont to and eventually reached poor Kong Lam in Bamale. At first the man told himself it was mere rumour meant to destabilise his family and the church. But the whispers became mocking tongues which he could no longer ignore. They wrecked his soul and a spirited battle took residence there. Kong Lam was lost. Weird voices daily assailed him. “Why are you this naïve, Josiah Kong Lam? Is Kenah not man enough? Besides, your wife is beautiful, very beautiful. Any man worth that name would not resist her. I mean no man, not even the pastor, my man. Shine your eyes, friend. Shine your eyes. You are not in Sim, remember? Anything can happen,” the voice of torment was triumphant. Poor man. He fought back. Scenes of his wife’s fidelity. Fifteen years of a happy union. Could these be sacrificed on the altar of part time pleasure? The argument was valid but weak. It held no water. It collapsed like a pack of cards. Temptation, he was reminded, was the lot of humanity. He tried another. The pastor’s commitment. His integrity as a man of God. All this paled in the face of human frailty. Even the most spiritual people are liable to falling, the voice insisted. Abraham, the father of faith, fell. Who was Kenah, the voice taunted? The case was thus closed. Then lurid scenes of Marian and the man of God on their marital bed took over and began to assault the victim on a day to day basis. The scenes peopled his nightmares and murdered his sleep. Kong Lam could bear it no longer. Something had to be done.
He came to Sim that weekend. Love making with his wife was as passionate as usual. But did he notice a certain coldness towards him? Perhaps his mind was playing games. Whatever the situation, he told himself he would get to the root of the matter. If Marian and the pastor had betrayed him, he must prove it. He did not yet know what he would do if the rumour were confirmed. But he needed to know. He needed to bring sanity to his battered life. He hatched a plan and it worked.
Early Monday morning, the man left for Bamale as usual. Marian accompanied him to the park. No one seeing them could suspect a brewing storm. The day passed uneventfully. Marian left her store at six p.m. and headed home. At about ten p.m. that night, she heard a knock.
“Who is there?”
“I am the one, Marian, please open the door.” Kong Lam answered.
“Heh, eh, it is my husband.” There was some hesitation and then she said, “Just a minute. I will be with you in a minute, dear.” Was she talking to someone? Did he hear a manly voice? Kong Lam listened keenly but could not grasp anything. There was some movement. He tiptoed to the window. The blinds which he slightly pushed to the side that morning were not pulled back. He heaved a sigh of relief and peered in. The lights came on in the living room. The woman opened the cupboard there and pushed something inside. What was it? The man could not see clearly but he was positive something mysterious went into that cupboard. His wife’s silhouette now advanced towards the door. Kong Lam moved back as the key turned in the lock. He took in a deep breath, exhaled and quickly pushed past his wife into the house. He was by the cupboard in an instant.
“My dear wife, you cannot imagine it. God has done it again,” his gaze was fixed on the woman.
“What, dear? I thought you were in Bamale already!” Marian’s eyes averted his. Her voice trembled and she kept darting shifty glances at the cupboard. “Why don’t you come into our bedroom, sweetheart?” she managed to say, “there you can tell me what God has done so we can praise him together.” Her mind was working over time. ‘If I can just get him into the bedroom, the pastor can make it. Please, God, help me.’ She moved towards the husband in a bid to stir him towards the bedroom, “Come, darling, let’s go in.” Kong Lam did not budge. Instead, he pulled himself from the woman, turned slowly and faced the cupboard. Its key clicked home and then nested securely in his trouser pocket. Then the man wheeled around to his wife, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He brought himself to speak with considerable composure.
“Here, Marian, I will tell you here, woman, not in the bedroom.” He was in dead earnest. “God has done it again, my love. God has spared my life to see this day. Give him the praise. I was involved in a ghastly motor accident on my way to Bamale. I am the sole survivor. I returned on foot to tell you and the children. God is indeed good. Can you imagine it? I came out without a scratch. This calls for celebration. What do you think? We must offer thanks to God, sweetheart. What do you say?”
Marian did not hear her husband. Her face, deadly pale, stared at the cupboard in crippling fear. Kong Lam paid no attention. He rattled on. “Yes, I think we must bring a special offering to the Lord first thing tomorrow morning. Er er, it is Tuesday, but we can get to the pastor and the other church members in the morning to hold a holy assembly. God has done great things. This cannot wait. It calls for an extraordinary meeting. What do you think, love? Extraordinary events merit extraordinary attention. Now, what shall we render to the Lord for his goodness towards us?” The man burst into song. “We render our hearts, we render our souls, and we render all we have for his goodness towards us. What shall we render…?” Yes woman, we have to render all we have. The offering must be something great and special. Our God is great. Remember, we must give Him only that which costs us something. What of this cupboard here? I think it is just the perfect sacrifice. Remember how much we have put into it? It is absolutely special and befits our God. I must get to the pastor and to the brethren. First thing tomorrow morning. Praise God.”
* * * *
The next morning at exactly nine a.m., four hefty young men from the neighbourhood transported the cupboard to Sim Bible Church. Deacon Kong Lam had given it to the church as a special thanksgiving offering to God for saving his life.