Joy and Delight Overflowed in My Heart After Receiving Grace
Seoul Central Chunbukyo Church in Cheongam-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul (Twenty-Thousand Altar, 1957)
I was born in 1936 in Bogae-myeon, Anseong-gun, Gyeonggi Province, as the eldest daughter in a family of one son and three daughters. Our family ran a large pharmacy and general store on a main road, and we lived in prosperity as we gradually expanded our farmland year after year. My father, a self-made man, worked diligently and lived with integrity and simplicity in all aspects of life. I admired him deeply and often reminded myself to live a life that was upright and meaningful, just like him.
When the Korean War broke out in June 1950, students from Seoul evacuated to Anseong and continued their studies there. At Anseong Girls’ Middle School, which I attended, students from Baehwa Girls’ Middle School joined our classes. These girls were Methodists, and they often talked about the Bible and God. Having never been to church before, I found their stories new and intriguing.
In May 1957, just a year after graduating from Anseong Girls’ High School, I had a memorable encounter. One day while I was minding the store, I heard someone calling me from outside. When I stepped out, I saw my friend Geum-soon, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, dressed in a nice outfit. To my surprise, her face was glowing so brightly like the sun that I hardly recognized her. She had slimmed down from her previously chubby figure and wore a constant, radiant smile.
She looked as if something wonderful had happened to her, as though she had received a precious gift. “Geum-soon, what’s going on? Come inside the store,” I said. But she replied, “No, I just got back from Seoul and need to get home quickly.” She simply exchanged a few greetings and was about to leave. But I couldn’t shake the curiosity stirred by her completely transformed appearance. Pushing aside my worries about leaving the store unattended, I started asking her questions.
She told me that she had visited her sister’s house in Seoul and attended a revival meeting led by Elder Park Tae-sun. It was held at the Seoul Central Chunbukyo Church (also known as the Twenty-Thousand Altar), which Elder Park had founded. Geum-soon said that at first, she simply sat quietly like a spectator, unaffected even as countless people around her prayed with tears. However, during the service, an overwhelming feeling of joy and delight suddenly welled up inside her heart, and she couldn’t hold it back. She also mentioned that Chunbukyo Church was expected to be established in Anseong within the year. Upon hearing this, I resolved to attend once it was opened.
Two months later, on June 27, I finally set foot in the newly opened Chunbukyo Church in Anseong-eup. Dressed in my cleanest, finest clothes and carrying a parasol, I left home with Geum-soon. The Anseong Chunbukyo Church was located on the second floor of a confectionery-factory building and was already crowded with worshippers of all ages. The children sang the hymn, “Follow the righteous way, the way of life …” with such skill and innocence that I couldn’t take my eyes off them as they clapped and sang so adorably. From that day on, I began attending the Chunbukyo Church faithfully, never missing the early morning services.
Curiosity Stirred by My Friend’s Transformation, I Resolve to Visit the Chunbukyo Church
After attending the revival meeting at the Twenty-Thousand Altar and receiving grace,
no matter how splendid a place I visited, nothing caught my attention, and even when I saw
something beautiful, I felt no desire to possess it.
That October, when a revival meeting was held at the Twenty-Thousand Altar in Seoul, I also had the chance to attend. During the week-long event, we sang hymns through the night. I hardly remembered whether I had eaten or not because I wasn’t even hungry, and I didn’t want to leave the place for even a moment. When Elder Park Tae-sun led tens of thousands in thunderous praise, it felt as if the grand altar itself was shaking. Watching the congregation sing with such sincerity, I thought to myself that it was like seeing the parched mountains and fields rejoicing after soaking up a long-awaited rain.
Every morning, Elder Park laid hands on the countless people one by one. When he called out, “Those who are healed, rise up!” astonishing miracles occurred: the mute stammered out words, the lame stood up and walked. Everywhere people were testifying, saying they had been healed or received grace, but even after several days, I felt nothing and grew deeply frustrated. As I looked toward Elder Park on the podium, a fleeting thought crossed my mind, “I came all this way just to see him… maybe I shouldn’t have come.”
At that very moment, Elder Park suddenly stopped leading the hymn and declared, “I am not just a revival preacher. I am the One from the East, the Olive Tree!” I was so stunned that words cannot express it. Then He told everyone to pray, and the altar instantly filled with the sound of countless voices. I, too, knelt down and prayed, “I’m sorry for what I thought, I’m sorry…” Suddenly, a blazing fire seemed to enter through my chest, and I felt as though everything inside me was being drawn out through my mouth. The sensation was so clear and vivid that I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, but nothing was there. Afterward, I felt empty inside, and my whole body felt light and refreshed, as though I could float.
The shock and awe I felt when Elder Park cried out, “I am the One from the East, the Olive Tree!” remain engraved in my heart to this day. From the moment I received that grace, no matter how fancy a place I went to, nothing caught my attention, and no matter how nice something was, I didn’t feel the desire to have it. Like a machine pumping air into me, joy and delight bubbled up endlessly within me, and I didn’t want to trade that joy for anything in the world. It was a joy and happiness I had never read about in any book or even imagined—and each day, it filled me anew.
When the temperature suddenly dropped one day,
the glass bottles filled with well water shattered,
but the bottle containing the Water of Life remained unfrozen.
Gentle droplets had formed on its surface, as if it held warm water.
At that meeting, I brought home the “Water of Life” blessed by Elder Park. Since our family ran a pharmacy, we had many beautiful glass bottles of various sizes, and I wanted to transfer the Water of Life into them. Before that, I filled the bottles with well water to rinse them out thoroughly. I placed the bottles, one with the Water of Life and the other with well water, side by side in an unused room and delighted in checking on them several times a day.
Then, one morning in December 1957, I woke up to find that snow had fallen heavily overnight and the temperature had dropped drastically, making it much colder than the previous day. Worried about what might have happened to the Water of Life, I rushed to the room and was stunned by what I saw. The bottles filled with well water had all shattered, the glass broken into tiny pieces, and the bottle-shaped blocks of ice were frozen solid. But the bottle containing the Water of Life hadn’t frozen at all. In fact, droplets had formed on its surface as if it were filled with warm water. It was truly a miraculous sight.
However, several weeks later, in mid-January 1958, I discovered that the Water of Life had suddenly frozen solid. When I asked my family, they assured me that no one had touched the bottle, and I couldn’t make sense of what had happened. That Sunday, I went to the altar and picked up the Chunbukyo Weekly Newspaper. The first thing that caught my eye was a message that read, “From now on, grace will be withdrawn from the Water of Life. Do not use it under any circumstances.” (Chunbukyo Weekly Newspaper, January 20, 1958). The sermon had been given on January 12, and the moment God spoke, His words were fulfilled in all the Water of Life across the country. In that moment, I slapped my knee and exclaimed, “Ah! Without God’s grace, it becomes completely worthless.” I was filled with awe and amazement at His word and power.
(The Chunbukyo Weekly, dated 5/13/2007)
Lee Kyo-sun
Senior Deaconess