III. [Behind the Applause]
1. Countless Tragedies, Tears of Sympathy
This is a very unique case. When Tiger Lin (a
pseudonym) came to the orphanage at age 7, the staff didn’t know what
to do with him. He was very neurotic, stubborn, violent, and hostile to
everyone, especially people of authority. He was rebellious and
resisted discipline. He deliberately damaged public property and broke
house rules. No matter what tactics, whether soft or hard, the teachers
used, nothing worked to change him. He was like a wounded tiger pub
trying to protect itself, showing fangs and prancing around, ready for
the last battle.
I was greatly concerned about this case, so I paid close attention to what developed later.
About six months later, something dramatic happened.
One day, Mr. John Lin was playing a DVD of the
choir’s performance for visitors; the atmosphere there was very moving
and serene. At the conclusion of the performance, everyone was moved to
tears. John happened to glance back, and saw that Tiger Lin had come in
sometime during the performance, and was standing in the back watching
and listening; he was moved to tears as well. It turned out that he had
been standing there for quite some time; for some one who was playful,
constantly moving and couldn’t be still for long, the sound of the
choir called to him, and he stood soundlessly still, and listened
intensely ‘til the end. It was as if he was under a spell and could not
move, still immersed in the power of the music. Especially the last
song, Those Unseen Hands, touched and shook his soul with the power of
a thousand lightning bolts.
It was the power of the singing voices that opened
up Tiger’s heart; God’s love softened his heart. John paid close
attention to see what kind of change would happen to this ornery child.
Ever since that day, Tiger was completely renewed.
He is no longer hostile to people around him, and he does not refuse to
interact with others; he can co-exist with the management in peace and
harmony. Clearly Jesus’ love changed him.
I wanted to understand him on a deeper level, why he
became anti-social and a nuisance. Did it have anything to do with his
biological family?
Yes! He was a victim of domestic violence. He was
often physically abused by his parents, especially his mother; every
time she saw him, she got mad and started hitting him and scolding him.
She burned him with the hot motorcycle exhaust pipe, leaving scars all
over his body. He was young and had no way of defending himself. One
time his mother forced him to keep drinking water until his blood was
so thin that he fainted. (It could’ve been fatal.) Fortunately a
neighbor called the police and he was saved by social workers. He was
then under government’s protection, and was sent to foster homes. But
he was so deeply traumatized by the hatred his parents had shown toward
him, that he was unable to trust anyone else. He naturally developed an
overly defensive personality. He would not cooperate with the foster
families in any way. After staying with several different families, he
was sent back to social workers because he could not get along with any
of them. As a last resort, he was sent to the Children’s Home, because
everyone knows that the founder, Rev. Yang, has great love for these
children, and never turns anyone away.
After I’ve learned this much, I wanted to get to
know this child better. To be hated by his parents to such a degree
that they wanted to put him to death, Tiger must be very ugly, or
handicapped in some way. After I’ve met him, I was even more puzzled;
he has an intelligent face, good facial features, and light skin; he is
an adorable child. I couldn’t understand why his
parents disliked such an angelic child, instead of loving him to
pieces? There must be something more.
“I heard that his parents could not get along.”
Even if they do not care for each other, they shouldn’t take it out on their child.
“The rumor is that his mother had him with another man.”
“Ah, no wonder!” This explains it. A rational
deduction would be that after the father found out the truth, he
started many confrontations with the mother. Since the child was the
reason for these confrontations, of course they would come to hate him.
Every time there was a disagreement, they used Tiger as an anger
outlet; he became the sacrificial lamb. Yet, what fault is it of the
child?
“Every time his mother saw him, she lost her mind and became hysterical, and tried to beat him to death.”
His mother is even more intolerable of him than his
dad. It could be that besides being the cause of his parents’ break-up,
Tiger also looks too much like his biological father who used the
mother and then abandoned her. From love was born hate; she could not
allow the spirit of that heartless man to live in front of her every
day through the body of the child. No wonder she fell apart every time
she saw the child, because that man had hurt her too deeply. I wish all
these assumptions are wrong, yet how can a child such as Tiger be hated
so by his parents instead of loved and treasured?
Anyway, this individual case troubled me for a long
time. Such an innocent child being treated this way, is there any story
more tragic than this? It was a good thing that he came to this
orphanage where he received the love of Jesus Christ. This love will
enable him to reestablish self-confidence: “I am lovable, because Jesus
loves me. I am worthy, because Jesus treasures me so much that He died
on the cross for me. I am not alone, because Jesus understands me
completely and He knows all my needs. He will prepare for me everything
that I need. I am lovable, so people will love me and I can love them
too.”
Just because of this, I am more sure of why God sent
me to Liu Kwei. I prayed to God, “Lord, every hardship I have endured
is worthwhile; even if it was all just for this one child, it was worth
it.”
The next step was for this child to join the choir.
He is a quick learner, and is loved by the other members. He is a happy
and gregarious nine-year-old.
Actually, each child in choir has his/her own story.
Though they are young, they have experienced many hardships and
tragedies on this earth. They are a group of victims who had been hurt
and damaged physically and mentally, and were forgotten and forsaken by
this world.
In Manila of the Philippines, a pastor’s son worked
through the night to translate the testimonies of three choir members
into English. Each time he read a testimony, he was so touched that he
cried uncontrollably, unable to calm down for the longest time. By the
time he finished translating all three, it was day break.
Although they have different backgrounds, they all
experienced tragedies in one way or another. However, after they’ve
joined the choir, each one of them experienced God’s salvation through
the messages in the songs, and their lives were changed completely.
They realize the value of salvation, and dedicate their lives to serve
the Lord. Over eighty percent of them have made decisions to be His
servants.
God had shown me these miraculous things, so that I
can stand firm even when faced with the greatest challenges and
obstacles. It was as if I heard the Lord asking me, “Can you let go of
these children?”
For seven years, I’ve watched them grow day by day.
I led them on their learning journeys, up to the mountains, down to the
seas, traveling around the world singing and preaching the gospel,
sharing the happy times and the sad times. I have seen their lives grow
and mature. This kind of bond that is stronger than any
grandfather-grandchild relationship, can not be understood by
outsiders. I know each one of their temperaments, and I know their
unique vocal qualities, the style of songs they are good at, how wide
their ranges are, what blind spots each has, etc. I know them like I
know the back of my hands. Each child treats me like a granddad also.
All the little things that happened in their lives are marked on my
heart. It is like the saying: each drop of cold water drank in the cold
weather leaves an impression on one’s heart.
2. The End of Man, The Beginning of God
In August of 1998, after the choir was formed and
has trained intensively for a month-and-a-half, we started on a
performance tour to the aborigine churches in the mountain villages.
This was our virgin tour; its success or failure was the determining
factor of this choir’s future, because I will base my decision of
whether to continue being the conductor of this choir on this tour. Can
we physically handle such a heavy work load? We rehearsed in the
mornings, traveled in cars to a different village in the afternoons,
and performed at nights, every day for a total of 15 days. There are no
motels in the mountains; the lodging arrangement was quite
inconvenient. I was close to seventy years old; can I last as long as a
group of kids who are used to hardships like this?
Besides, this was a test of the choir’s potential of
becoming a company of skilled soldiers to be used by God. If God did
bring me here all the way from the U.S., He must have his purpose; it
we did not accomplish anything, then there was no need for me to come
again.
The children and I all did our best; I taught them
to my best abilities, and they in response learned to their best
abilities. After more than a month, they have established some
technical foundations on which they can build upon to continue to
improve. Even when I were not in Taiwan, they could practice on their
own. As to their repertoire, they have learned a total of 13 songs.
Most of these are still being sung in our programs today, including
Those Unseen Hands.
This tour was geared toward churches. It was a way
to share our testimonies with fellow Christians, and at the same time
preach the gospel to non-believers. These songs had to meet the needs
of both.
As to the quality of performance, it was enough to
just not mess up big time; I did not hold great expectations. Smooth
and mature techniques come with long-term training; however, the
expression of emotion is the true essence of an art form. We did not
have the luxury of time to fine-tune each song, but we should have at
least one song that could touch the listeners. After much thoughts and
consideration, I chose Those Unseen Hands. The lyrics to this song are
very moving, and the melody beautiful and appealing; however, it was
plain and simple. So I rearranged the harmony to give it some
variations; it turned a simple piece of music into a splendid and
lyrical arrangement that touches the listeners’ whole being. The
coloratura sopranos have a very important part in it. It was the most
practiced and the first to be memorized.
On the night before the last rehearsal, I was still
thinking about what I can do to modify the song so that it is as close
to perfection as possible, the lyrics more alive, and the presentation
more imagery. Suddenly I had a thought, “Why not add some movements to
the song to make it more lively and strong?”
The problem was that it was around midnight; who can
I get to choreograph the movements? I have never danced in my life, how
can I possibly choreograph? But the time was short, and there was no
other thinkable option, so I tried, though very hesitantly. I prayed
desperately for God’s help. After a night of laborious thinking and
deep searching, I finally came up with the one and only choreography of
my life. During our last run-through, we were feeling very small of
faith, because all aborigines are good at dancing and singing, how can
they possibly accept movements that are like sign-language?
Who would have known that these movements became the
perfect companion to this song; the children’s movements along with the
singing blended their emotions completely with the song. These
movements were so natural that they do not look pre-designed. This song
became the favorite must-sing for the choir.
The first performance in the mountain villages was
at Nan-Shan Church in Nan-Tao. The sopranos were way off in one of the
high-pitched phrases, and sounded like they were screaming. It scared
me into a whole-body cold sweat, and I felt miserably on the inside.
But on a whole, it was better than expected. Included in the 13 songs
were some difficult pieces such as Gloria by Mozart, and selections
from No Greater Love by John Peterson.
During the tour, we practiced every morning, and
corrected the mistakes of previous night’s performance. It was through
this daily accumulation of experiences and improvements that the choir
members developed greater mutual understanding and more faith in
themselves. Towards the end of the tour, almost all songs can be
memorized. But everyone’s attention was on sharpening technical skills
that none of the songs was sung with any emotion. Their performances
were enjoyable, yet not moving spiritually enough to bring listeners to
a place where they can be completely melted down by God’s love.
I kept asking myself, “Why do I come to Taiwan from
America? Just so that the Children’s Home can have an outstanding choir
that is just like any other choir that can sing beautiful songs? Is
there no other purpose? What do I really expect in my heart?”
Actually, I had a very strong sense of mission. I am
not merely training a good choir; more importantly, I am training them
to be soldiers of the gospel. After more than ten performances, was
there even one song that touched people? Besides getting applauses,
there was nothing else. To be called messengers of the Gospel, the
singers’ voices need to possess the qualities of persuasion,
inspiration, excitement, etc. We were getting close to the end of the
tour, yet none of these qualities has been demonstrated. Therefore, I
emphasized the training on interpretation, surpassing the techniques. I
tirelessly explained the background and meaning of the lyrics of each
song, so that they can sing from their hearts and claim the songs as
their own, and tell their life stories through these songs.
During the explanations, inevitably I would talk
about Jesus’ salvation and love repeatedly. We need to know God
ourselves first, then we can testify for Him with power and persuasion.
If we are not even moved, how can others be moved?
On the last night, we arrived at Mei-Lan Church.
During class, I spend no time rehearsing, but talked about the value of
salvation and the greatness of God’s love. “Do you all have hearts of
steel and stone? How can you not be moved by Jesus’ crucifixion and
dying for you on the cross? Why do you sing these songs?-------” When I
said the closing prayer, I could not stop myself from crying and said,
“Lord! Please give me more patience…”
That night, miracles happened.
In the middle of concert, the Holy Spirit swept
across the sanctuary like the wind. At that time, the choir was singing
Those Unseen Hands:
It is your hands, those nail-scarred hands,
That once again comforted my broken hearts…
A boy standing in the third row, Jung-Liung Chang,
started to shake uncontrollably, with tears streaming down his face; he
was crying so hard that he couldn’t continue singing. At this time, the
audience had no idea what was happening. An accompanying teacher, Chuan
Chun-Min, walked around the stage to check on him. At first he though
Jung-Liung was sick and tried to take him off stage; after he
understood what happened, he allowed him to stay on stage to finish the
concert. Like that, one by one, on and off stage, each was hit by the
Spirit and moved to tears, from the choir members to the conductor, the
pianist, and each member of the audience; everyone was bathed in the
gentle sweetness of the Holy Spirit. God’s love swept over the whole
place, its force as strong as the raging sea, and too sharp for
anything to stand in its way. Every one present experienced the
irresistible power of this song.
This experience has great meaning for the choir and
me. To me personally, God has reaffirmed his leading in me work. This
night’s meeting was a miracle, which was accomplished through someone
who was willing to offer himself. To the choir, this meant that it has
the abilities to sing well and therefore become a useful vessel of God.
This not only strengthened our faith, but also established the basis
for our long-term relationship in the future.
Ever since then, this song has become the signature
song of the Children’s Choir. Every time it’s performed, the Holy
Spirit worked alongside and touched everyone on and off stage, bringing
great revival; many made the decision to come to Christ and to be
reborn in spirit.
It is because of this powerful affectation that we
continuously receive invitations from home and abroad, gradually
expanding our outreach area.
[The end of man is the beginning of God.] My
interpretation of this is that after man has done all that is possible
within his power, God will continue to do what man can not do.
3. Old but not Retired, Sick but not Retreated
The hot summers are the best times for the choir to
tour while the kids are on break from school. And weekends are the
golden time slots for performances. Not only are our weekends all
booked, sometimes we perform anywhere from two to four times in one
day. From conductor to choir members, everyone gets exhausted. It’s a
tough physical challenge for everyone, especially to a
seventy-something old man.
The accompanying teachers are all younger than me,
and they treat me like a father and take care of me. They are all
concerned about whether my health can keep up with traveling with a
group of children who are accustomed to harsh living conditions, and
under such tense and busy touring schedule. I keep a tab on my own
abilities to adjust all the while on the tour as well. If I become too
weak to do my job, than I’d have to stop conducting.
One performance a day is no problem; though it’s
tiring to remain standing for over an hour and a-half on stage, I can
regain my strength the next day if I get a good night’s rest. The
problem is that during the weekends, there are usually two performances
each day. By the second concert, my feet start to get tired and sore,
and then it would extend to my legs that when I get off the stage at
the end, my legs are close to being numb. Added to that, I wear a
tuxedo, and the sweat soaks through all layers of clothing. All I can
do then is to sit and relax, wait for the sweat to dry out, and then
change and rest. But at that time, many ardent listeners would be
waiting at the door to have pictures taken with me, to ask for my
autograph, to chat, or any combination of those. If old friends come
by, I need to receive them. When I get the opportunity, I would sneak
on the bus, sprawl on the seat and rest. If I am being received by a
host family that night, I have to socialize some more out of courtesy.
It the hosts are talkative, then…. For the sake of recuperating so that
I can start all over again the next day, I made the one and only
request: “Please make arrangement for me to stay in a motel, nothing
fancy, just a place to sleep peacefully.” That way I can completely
relax, take a shower and change or do some laundry. By bedtime it’s
usually midnight already. Yet even this request sometimes can not be
met.
Late August of 2001, on the last day of the North
America tour, also a Sunday, there were four performances scheduled.
That was the day I worried the most, having been on the road for two
months of intensive touring, been flown from Taiwan to Houston and then
bused to Dallas, Oklahoma City, Kansas City, St. Louise, Chicago,
Detroit, Cleveland, Manchester, Boston, Rhode Island, New York City,
New Jersey, Philadelphia, Delaware, Baltimore, Washington DC, Raleigh,
Augusta, and Atlanta, and then flown to Toronto, and them bused again
to Montreal, Ottawa and then back to Toronto. We have traveled by bus
through the mid and east America and also around the east Canada,
beginning and end with Toronto. We had to get up before six each day,
travel for four to six hours, arrive at the next destination, go
straight to the place of performance immediately, proceed to rehearse,
and keep going until the end of performance. By the time we got to the
place of rest it was already past 11pm.; we got less than six hours of
sleep, yet we couldn’t stop doing our job. Even our Monday holidays,
when we normally rest, were cancelled due to tight scheduling. Towards
the end of the tour, all the teachers and choir members were all so
tired that they took turn getting sick. On that last yet important day,
we were all at our most tired and weakest. Even though I sustained to
the end without collapsing, I was getting very close to it. I did not
dare to show my weariness, fearing it would affect everyone else’s
mood.
That day finally arrived. After the morning worship,
we rushed to the noon service at another church. We had hoped to
shorten the program, but they asked for more instead. It was already
past one when the service was over. After a quick lunch, we rushed to
the third concert location. After we arrived, we had about a half-hour
break. We found places to take a short nap so that we’d have the energy
for the next battle. Everyone, whether leaning on a chair or sitting at
a table, slept soundly. For the first time in my life, I fell asleep on
a bed made with two folding chairs. When they were awakened, they had a
hard time opening their puffy, red, sleepy eyes. I stretched and was
glad that I can still move relatively freely, celebrating the half-way
point of the longest day.
After the third concert, someone said to me, “The
most important concert is yet to come!” Oh, My! The last concert is to
be held in an ancient, very impressive church. Because it was the very
last concert, everyone gave all they’ve got; the program was excellent
and there were many high-points. Many who had heard us in other
concerts had come to attend this farewell concert; it was a full house.
Encouraged by the thunderous applauses from the audience, the choir
sang better and brighter as the concert went along. It was euphoria on
and off stage; everyone wanted the concert to go on forever. We all
agreed that this was the best concert on this tour. I am still amazed
now about what happened that day. It showed how great the power of the
mind can be; the applauses made everyone forget their weariness; the
affirmation from the audience encouraged this group of village kids to
give the best of their lives. I had forgotten the exhaustion of the day
(actually the last two months;) it was as if I had regain youth. Even
though my body was bone-tired, my spirit was high.
August 14, 2004, right after we have concluded the
tour in North America, we flew to the Philippines for an intensive
eight-day tour. This was the toughest tour in the history of the choir.
First, the concert scheduling was too tight; after singing in schools
during the day, we had full concerts in the evenings. We had to perform
three to four times each day; our bodies and voices were overworked.
Secondly, the Philippines are in the tropics, and many facilities do
not have or have insufficient air conditioning that the profuse
sweating drained our physical strengths. Thirdly, the place where I
stayed at nights is a distance away from where the choir stayed; it was
already past 11pm when we returned nightly. What was worse was that we
had to get up at 5am each day, have breakfast at 5:30am and leave at
6am to avoid morning rush hour. If we leave after 7am, the roads would
be so congested that a 10-minute car trip could easily take up to 2
hours. That’s why almost everyone was tired, sleep deprived, and sick.
I, on the other hand, was able to sustain to the very end, and had not
gotten sick. The Bible promises: “I can do everything through Him who
gives me strength!” which sustained me through this ten-day trip.
However, we were able to have contact with over 10,000 listeners, and
the fruitfulness of the response of decisions made surpassed all past
records. Comparatively, what sacrifices we’ve made seemed
non-consequential.
January of 2001, during the winter break the choir
traveled to other Asia countries, such as Macao, Zhu-Hai in China, Hong
Kong, Malaysia and Singapore. The first stop was Macao; we were
welcomed by a cold front and were ill-prepared with no jackets or
sleeping bags. Over half of our people got sick. But we couldn’t cancel
any of the two to four concerts scheduled each day; the tour got off to
a bad start. At nights, I not only wore all that I can to keep warm, I
also used all the blankets and sheets I could find in the closet. There
were no heaters, nor enough blankets, yet I still got through it
without getting sick.
People think that I must be extremely healthy, being
able to endure hardships and exhaustion with a bunch of teenagers.
Actually, I have many age-related problems from head to toe. I have had
gout since the age of forty, and it had gotten worst since. I also have
high cholesterol and triglycerides for the last few decades. After age
fifty, I suffer from enlarged prostate; I need to get up at least three
times each night; I can’t get a good night’s sleep. Later, I developed
bone spurs on the soles of my feet, making walking very uncomfortable.
All my teeth except for one were pulled out because of gingivitis; I
can’t chew anything too hard. I can’t eat high protein, high fat or
high nutrition foods. I can’t drink milk either because it doesn’t
agree with my body. Shouldn’t I be sick often with what little I can
eat and what many things I need to do?
After the Children’s Home Choir was established, my
blood pressure was raised because of all the problems associated with
traveling between the two continents and jet lag. What’s more, because
of the long working hours and high pressures, a blood vessel in my
right eye burst in March of 2003, leaving that eye almost blind. After
consulting three doctors, the consensus was that it was a slight
stroke. After my work was completed and I had returned to the U.S., I
got the diagnosis of Retina Yellow Spot Denatured. If I were treated
within the first 24 hours with laser, the damage could have been
minimized; but the golden period of opportunity was long gone. Now I
only have one good eye, which is also showing signs of the same
problem; it needs careful monitoring. Medically, this disease occurs in
both eyes, one after the other. The time in between may be three years,
maybe five, no one knows. This is like a time bomb; when the time
comes, it will detonate. Then I will no longer be able to read music or
conduct choirs. Therefore, I have a very strong sense of crisis,
because there is only a limited amount of time left to work. After that
I’d have to leave these lovable children behind, as much as I regret it.
In the past couple of years, I have developed asthma
because of my allergies. Every spring, I would start coughing and
suffer from asthma. Even though it is being controlled by medication,
it has taken such a toll on my health.
Because of all the reasons above, I can not go back
to Taiwan more than a month at a time. When the third week approaches,
I start to feel unwell with one sickness or another. I have figured out
my physical limitations to be about 20 days; after that, I would start
getting sick. I would start getting better after being back in the
States for a while. Then I am able to return and do more training.
That’s why I can only stay in Taiwan short-term.
God did not call my wife to move back to Taiwan with
me because He knows my physical conditions which require that I return
home to recuperate. That is the secret to my good mental well-being
every time I’m with the choir.
I also use this time of recuperation to sit down and
prepare for the next training session, gathering material, ordering
music, and writing new music and arrangements. Works such as writing
lyrics and translation are very time and mind consuming. From this
standpoint, rest in this sense is just a transfer from physical work to
mental work.
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