That day, the street flooded up to our knees. It had only been raining for an hour, but the drains couldn’t handle it. Trash floated by in little waves made by the cars, and you got an itchy feeling that you weren’t sure came from being wet or something else that you didn’t want to think about.
When it floods like that in Bangok, you can’t see where you’re stepping. You just push your legs through the water and hope there’s flat ground beneath you, not a pothole or a rusty nail.
Our street has only flooded like that twice. The first time was at the beginning of rainy season. The second time was when we invited our friends to our condo for a worship night. But still, twenty people rolled up their pants and waded through the water to come. We handed out towels and dry clothes as people appeared soaking wet at our door.
Oak, a Thai college student, had been sitting at our dining room table throughout the evening. He thought he was following his friend to a house party, but found that he ended up in a circle of young Christians instead. We took a pause in worship for group discussion, and one of the people sitting next to him nudged for him to share. He hesitated before sharing in Thai.
“I grew up in a Christian elementary school,” he began. “Since then, I’ve always been interested in going to church, but every Sunday, I decide to sleep in instead. But I’ve always had a feeling that I should go to church. Learn more about Christianity and Jesus.”
The Thai people sitting at the table with him were grinning in excitement. Everyone else in the room leaned forward to hear my translation.
“I don’t really know anything about Jesus, but I think I’d like to learn more.”
Care, one of my Thai friends, was leaning forward and smiling: “We have church tomorrow at 10:15!”
Oak hesitated, and the other Thai people jumped in as well to encourage him: “It’s just down the road!” “We’ll buy you coffee!” “You don’t need to sleep! Just come.” Oak’s nervous grin turned into a smile.
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, putting his hands up. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
After more excited promises to see him tomorrow and buy him coffee, the room settled down. I looked around in awe at how excited my Thai brothers and sisters had been to welcome another Thai person to come to church. He can cash in on at least 10 coffees tomorrow, I thought. The foreigners were all smiling and seemed moved by the moment, but the Thai people were emotional. Giddy. Could hardly contain their joy. Did everyone in this room just experience the same moment?
I understood both languages, but I was also beginning to understand what it meant to be a Thai Christian. For 99% of Thai people, being Thai means being Buddhist or Muslim. But for my Thai brothers and sisters, being a Christian meant living a life different from the people around them.
In that moment, I saw how they loved their people and language so dearly, but denied the parts of their culture that denied God. I saw how they had experienced God’s love so deeply and personally that their joy was uncontainable when a fellow Thai person mentioned that they wanted to know their Jesus, too. How they loved Jesus with such a passion that sharing Him with a Thai brother who didn’t know him yet was like opening presents on their birthday.
Thai people must overcome so many barriers before even stepping into the doors of a church. They don't hear the name of Jesus for the first time in a church. They hear it from the mouth of a friend.
The next morning at church, I walked in and was immediately summoned over by Care and another Thai friend: “Oak is upstairs! He came today!” It was like a celebrity was at church.
Praise God for people who invited their friends to worship night. Praise God for these Thai people who are so excited to share their faith. Praise God for 20 people who waded through knee-deep water to worship God.
Pray that God would continue to seek Oak and the five other nonbelievers who came to our worship night.