Text by Jonah Sng

Where do we go from here?

That was the question weighing on my heart after leaving the EXPO Pavilion yesterday evening. With all the good that God has wrought in my life — the privilege and honour of serving, to be able to walk out the grace that has been poured so lavishly upon me, to witness the mighty ways He is moving in this generation — how do I walk away from the Zone Conference without squandering what He has put in me through it?

I can’t imagine what the conference has been like for you. I can talk about the workshops, the concert, or the sermon, but I can’t possibly put down what each of you has taken home from it. What impacted you? What struck right at your heart?  How did God move you to tears? What do you see now that you didn’t before, with new eyes?

As brilliant and funny as Pastor Judah Smith is…as electrifying and groundbreaking as Hillsong United can be at defining what praise and worship should be…as much fun as an event like this can be to spend an entire Saturday on…what I’ve discovered for myself from the Zone Conference is this possibly earth-shattering revelation:

It’s about people.

It’s about the brother or sister beside you. Maybe even the stranger sitting next to you during a workshop, whom you have no name for, but are curiously called a brother or sister in Christ. Maybe it’s someone you’ve seen during service.

But unfamiliarity is no barrier. Even the seeming disparity between each of our lives is no hindrance. It’s because we’re all connected – believers or not – through Jesus’ act of love at the cross, that perfect embodiment of the grace of God gifted to man.  It’s His love that binds us together – strangers, friends or family – young and old alike.

There was this boy who sat near me during the evening programme. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Strangely enough, he didn’t have any of his friends with him, and would talk to himself intermittently. His version of dancing during praise songs was jumping up and down without paying any heed to beat or melody; I ended up getting kicked not just once, but several times. Also, when he saw people throwing light sticks during the concert, he decided to have a go himself.

Truth be told — I was more than a bit irritated and bewildered at his behaviour. And to be completely honest here, the first thought that came to my mind was: this: ‘What a weirdo’.

But the story doesn’t just end there. When Pastor Judah called for ministering after his sermon, this boy raised his hand. And then to my dismay, Pastor Judah then called for the nearest brother or sister to lay hands and pray together with those who had raised their hands. That meant me having to pray with the boy who had been unwittingly kicking me during all the praise songs in the concert.

But despite all that – despite all the reluctance I felt – I listened. I simply reached out and put my hand on his shoulder.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

Under all the anointing and the presence of God in the hall – as brother prayed with brother and sister with sister – I felt all my disdain vanish. Just like that. Gone.

And in its place was love, an overflowing, vast, immense love for this youth which I had no doubt was God’s heart for him working through me. The same heart of love that God has for you and I.

God was telling me something.  Because then I realised, who was I kidding? How was I any different or better than this boy? If we chose to really see how God sees each of us… I wasn’t.

I believe that most of us in this ministry just want to fit in. We all want to connect. We all want to retain our uniqueness and individuality, but not be too different. Being too different could mean having no friends. It could mean getting uncomfortable looks from the people around you. Or even receiving irritated stares from people you kick by accident during praise and worship.

These people – whom I, in my own prejudices and human nature, write off as ‘weird’ – they’re all around us. But they’re just like you or me. They’re loved by a loving Father and saved by a glorious Saviour. But sometimes, when they seem a little too different, so unlike what we deem to be socially acceptable… we keep our distances.

They want, like all of us, to fit in. They want to belong, to be a part of a greater whole; you can see in their eyes… in the awkward angle of their posture… in the slight scuffle of their feet… wanting and not wanting to be part of the background, trying to be as ‘normal’ as possible, but not really knowing what it means to be so… and now the real question on my heart after hearing about truth, love and justice, after singing about tearing down walls and shouting His glory until my throat is hoarse, is this: where do we go from here?

The answer’s simple. Even when we have these huge venues… events with such meticulous planning and logistics and household names… gathering thousands so that the name of Jesus can be lifted high… even when the night’s ended and we’re going back home with full hearts and changed lives… it all still comes down to one thing:

It’s about people.

It’s about that boy. It’s about the person you see in church who doesn’t really know how to fit in.  It’s about you and me and Jesus in the midst of everything. It’s about being loved by the Father and loving out of that love. It’s about reaching out to the people around us and saying ‘we’re all this in together’.

It’s about letting this love we have received in such abundance and without condition tear down the walls in our hearts.