Chapel (Part I)

At College Evangelique Maranatha, chapel services were held every Friday morning and all students were required to attend. The first time I went, I was quite apprehensive about what I would find there since I was equally concerned with content versus context as I was with people's actions and attitudes. As a result, I arrived early, chose a convenient corner in the back of the room, and retreated there for safety . . . and analysis.

Once the session began, I found that I liked it very much. The content comprised singing, scripture reading, praying, and a special presentation, all of which was delivered in a context that was relevant for the students present.

"So far, so good!"

Then, the school principal explained how each grade, starting from the highest down to the lowest, would take turns planning and leading chapel for the remaining Fridays of the school year. "It is to be an outlet that will help students develop leadership and performance abilities," said the principal.

"Well, as long as I get to stay in the background . . ."

Realizing that my grade's turn to lead would not be happening for seven weeks, I paid it no mind. I was hopeful that the smart kids in the front of the classroom would spearhead this effort and no one would ask me to do anything. However, as the trimester progressed and we were approaching week # 5, I began to get slightly worried.

Naturally wired as a planner, I could not help noticing that, thus far, no one in the class had talked about taking charge of planning, assessing the gifts represented in the classroom, or even suggesting ideas for our chapel presentation. 

On the 5th Monday of the trimester, one of the teachers walked into the classroom and asked us how things were coming along for our chapel service. I was anxious to find out but feigned indifference for fear of attracting attention. It was then that something happened which has since altered the course of my life.

A clear voice from the front broke the silence in answer to the teacher's question; it was that of my lovely sister -- the one who inspired me to give my life to Christ on that muggy Friday evening back in 1979.

(She and I had been in the same grade since 5th grade because the primary school bumped me up a grade on three different occasions.)  

My sister looked in my direction and then humbly offered, "My brother and I can sing a duet.  He writes poetry, too. And he can lead because he does that at home every time we 'play' church."

(My sister, my cousin, and I used to fill our evenings with 'playing' church -- reenacting all the elements of a church service, all the while dwelling on humorous moments we had observed in that context through the years.)

Once my sister spoke, my first thought was:

"So much for staying in the background!"

With that statement, my sister once again became the catalyst for a new direction in my life. Eyes, too many pairs of eyes, converged to the back where I was sitting. I could not be sure what my classmates were thinking. Some might have been puzzled or shocked or doubtful. However, a change occurred within me as they were looking; I had no choice but to embrace the new calling God had reserved for me:

I became a leader for my class.
I became a leader for life.

Father, just like You selected Saul to be the first human king of Israel, thank You for reaching Your sovereign hand even into the decline of my ways and directing me to be a leader in my own circle. I give You honor that Your grace does not depend on my worthiness or faithfulness but solely on Your will and purpose. Help me to follow You as I seek to guide others to You and Your holy ways. In Christ alone, I pray. Amen!