The Lord said, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” There was much He desired to tell them, but they could not take it in at that moment. So He did not speak everything to them at once. But He went on to say, “When the Spirit of Truth comes, He will guide you into all truth.”  And in another passage, the Scripture says this as well: “when the Holy Spirit comes, He will bring to your remembrance all the words I have spoken to you; He will make you understand them.” It is truly amazing that what is written in the Bible is fulfilled in us exactly as it says.

I first came to this church in May of 1992. Of course, before that I had gone to church a few times, following a friend, but I had never gone with any real seriousness. But in May of 1992, I came with a different heart: “I should begin a life of faith!”—or more precisely, it wasn’t simply that I wanted to start a life of faith. It was, “I want to meet God. If God is truly alive, then I must meet Him.” With that desire, I came to church. Many people had tried to share the gospel with me before that, but I was stubborn and would not listen.

But there was someone I had known since 1990 who prayed for me for three years, and through those prayers I finally came. During those three years, a certain change took place in my heart. I began to acknowledge, “I am a sinner. I am under a curse.” It was not exactly the same as when the church says, “You are a sinner,” but in my own way I was trying to live righteously—and I simply could not. I wanted to live righteously, yet when I saw myself utterly fallen and sinful, I fell into complete despair. I no longer knew the reason for my life.

So I began to think, “There isn’t much difference between living and dying.” And I even felt, “If heaven and hell truly exist, then this world itself must already be a part of hell.” That is how dark things had become for me. Then I thought, “If what church people say is true—if heaven and hell really exist—then I will surely go to hell.” Why? Because I had tried to live righteously and completely failed. I had discovered that I simply could not live that way. Because of that realization, I no longer had the confidence to lift my head and say, “I am righteous. I don’t need heaven. Leave me alone.” I could no longer speak that way.

So I began attending church, and starting that May, I listened very carefully to the messages. But one of my first impressions was this: in the beginning, nothing in the church feels right. Whatever you see, whatever you hear—it all feels uncomfortable. But since I wasn’t even pleased with myself at that time, I had no room to criticize anything else. For example, something that bothered me back then was this: our senior overseer used to wear a completely white suit when serving the holy communion—white jacket, white pants, and white shoes. I didn’t like that either. I didn’t like anything. Even the way the offering was collected didn’t look good to me. Everything looked wrong.

But since I was without hope—and because I had come to church to find hope—I knew I had to let go of those attitudes. So I set them aside and listened carefully. I devoted myself to Bible study as well, doing everything I was told to do. At that time, people said, “You need to speak in tongues! Receive the Holy Spirit!” So I simply followed their instruction, and before long I found myself saying something. But I cannot call that tongues—not really. Later on, when I truly received the Holy Spirit, I experienced tongues bursting out from within me, and because of that, I cannot call what I repeated earlier “tongues.” Back then, I didn’t even have faith; I was just doing what they told me to do.

But there was one thing I simply could not do: saying, “In Jesus’ name I pray.” I had been attending church since May, but for about three months, whenever we prayed together, I just could not say, “In Jesus’ name I pray.” I also could not say, “God the Father.” Those two phrases were extremely difficult for me. At home, I had a father, and in my entire life I had never called anyone else “Father.” I could call someone I didn’t know “God,” but calling Him “Father” felt too uncomfortable. So I would just say, “God!” And even saying, “In Jesus’ name I pray,” felt awkward to me. So while others prayed that way, what did I say? For three months I prayed, “In the name of Truth.” That’s what I said—“In the name of Truth.” Because what I was seeking was truth. And truth, as I understood it, is something that never changes—regardless of time, place, or circumstance. I was searching for something unchanging and eternal. So I prayed, “In the name of Truth.” In my mind, that truth was God. “If You really are God, then please let me meet You.” But when I came to church, I kept hearing something different: “You yourself cannot know that truth; you cannot know God on your own. The One who reveals God, the One who shows God to us—that is the Truth. And that Truth is Jesus.” I could not accept that. “Jesus is God? Jesus is the Truth?” The truth I had always imagined was something invisible—a principle or law that never changes, like “the earth revolves around the sun.” How could a person be the truth? And not just any person, but a young man who grew up in Nazareth? How could that Jesus be called Truth? Because of those questions, I kept praying, “In the name of Truth,” and instead of saying “Father,” I prayed simply, “God!” But aside from that, I did everything wholeheartedly. I desperately wanted to meet God. So I kept praying, “God, if You are truly alive, please meet me!”

And I couldn’t believe that God created the heavens and the earth. I only wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe it because that is what I was hearing—but it did not actually become believable to me. And then there is this: “Jesus was born from a woman named Mary, and although she had never been with a man, she conceived a child by the power of the Holy Spirit.” I couldn’t believe that either. It sounded impossible. So I was trying to believe these things—not because they were believable to me, but because I wanted to believe. Even the truth that Jesus is the Son of God—I wanted to believe it, but it did not truly become believable in my heart.

After about three months had passed, I went to a college retreat, and there I began to pray earnestly. It was a five-day retreat, and until the evening of the fourth day I prayed with all my strength, but nothing changed. There was no change at all. I was simply believing by my own will. Yet I knew inside myself, “This is not faith!” I felt clearly that this was nothing more than me trying to believe by forcing my own will, and that this was not true faith. “With this, I cannot entrust my soul to God, and with this, I cannot even sustain my life. I must meet God—absolutely.”

So on Friday evening, everyone else went out for dinner, but I couldn’t go. There were three others in my group who, like me, had come to church for the first time, and all of them—on the second day, on the third day—had broken down in tears, repented, and said they had met God. But I, who had opened my heart the widest, experienced no change at all. I grew so anxious that while the others went to eat, I stayed behind and prayed alone. Our church has a retreat center—a large open space—and there I sat on the wooden floor, knelt down, and prayed. As I prayed for a long time, my desperation grew, and without realizing it, my voice began to rise louder and louder.

But as I continued praying, I realized something: until then, I had never really prayed out loud. Even when I did, it was only a quiet mumbling that barely I myself could hear. Yet as my desperation grew, something changed. My voice grew louder and louder, and I began crying out—just like a child who begs his mother for candy, keeps asking, and when she doesn’t give it, eventually bursts into tears and pleads with all his strength. In that way, I cried out, “God, I acknowledge that I am a sinner! I acknowledge that I am under a curse! I want to meet You. And I hear that You sent Your Son to pay the price of my sins—that, I believe. I want to believe it, but I cannot make myself believe! Please meet me!” I prayed with all my heart.

And what they taught us at that retreat was this: “Why does your state remain unchanged? It is because you have not received the Holy Spirit.” Just as the Lord had said, “I have many things to teach you, but you cannot bear them now. But when the Holy Spirit comes, He will lead you into all truth.” Into that truth—He will bring me in.

No matter how much we talk about China here, you can never truly know China that way. What is the best way to understand China? You have to go there. You must be brought in. Then the smells are different, the scenery is different—you are inside it. In the same way, when the Holy Spirit comes, it is not merely a matter of teaching us one thing after another—“this is this, that is that.” Rather, He takes us by the hand and brings us into the truth itself. And when that happens, words are no longer necessary. That is why the Scripture says that when that time comes—when you receive the Holy Spirit—no one will need to say to another, “Know the Lord! You must know God!” Why? Because from the oldest to the youngest, everyone within that place already knows God. Just as, when you go to China, you don’t need to ask a child, “Do you know Chinese?” or “Can you speak Chinese?” From the elderly to the children, everyone speaks Chinese and everyone enjoys Chinese food.

So I understood that I must receive the Holy Spirit. That is why I prayed that way: “Give me the Holy Spirit!” Or in other words, “I want to meet God!” That was my prayer. And I prayed, “God, I acknowledge that I am a sinner. And not only that—I acknowledge that Jesus has already paid the full price for my sins and has forgiven them all. I want to believe this. I acknowledge it!” But this belief stayed only in my head; no change was happening inside me. I might say that I knew the Lord—but the Lord also has to know me.

Let me explain it this way: I know our president. But does President know me? He does not. So in that situation, I cannot really say that we “know” each other. In the same way, I may say that I know God, but God must also say to me, “I know you.” He must take my hand. Only then is there true relationship and true communication. So I prayed earnestly, “Lord, I now accept what You have given me. You sent Jesus, the Son of God, for me. You paid the price for my sins. And I acknowledge all the grace You have shown me until now. So please meet me. Let me truly know this. Let me experience the grace You have already bestowed on me!”

As I continued praying aloud with such desperation, my voice grew so loud that it filled the entire room. And I realized something was different. When I prayed quietly and when I prayed loudly, something changed—“I” changed first. I stopped being conscious of the people around me, and my heart began to seek the Lord with true desperation.

It is like this: imagine someone who is usually very shy and soft-spoken. He falls into the water, and someone happens to be walking by. Would he quietly say, “Excuse me…” out of embarrassment? No one would do that. In that moment, he would shout with all his strength. But suppose the passing cars are too loud and drown out his voice—then he will cry out even louder, using every bit of strength he has: “Help! Somebody help me!”

In the same way, our desperation to meet God is far greater than a person shouting “Help!” from the water. This is not like casually asking someone for a cup of water as they pass by. Yet many people treat meeting God as if it were no more urgent than saying, “Could I have a drink of water?” And so their cry never comes out. But in reality, our need to meet God is far more desperate than the cry of someone drowning and shouting, “Help me!” So of course a genuine cry should come out—if the heart is truly urgent. And I cannot help but wonder whether God will truly work in us if we are unwilling to open our hearts to that degree.

So after crying out, “God! Please meet me!” it wasn’t long before something happened. And from that point on, I honestly cannot put it into words. In short, I met Him.

If I were to describe it—though no expression truly captures it—it felt as if a fire entered into me, like a burning mass came into my head, dropped down into my belly, and then exploded there like a bomb. That is simply how it felt. And as it burst, tears burst out as well—tears of repentance. And do you know what the first word was that came out of my mouth at that moment? It was not “Lord,” and it was not “God.” The very word I had never been able to say—when I received the Holy Spirit, it suddenly came out.

“Father!” — that is what I said.

I was shocked. I surprised even myself. Calling God “Father” was the one thing I could never bring myself to do. But the moment I received the Holy Spirit, it came out so easily—without me even being aware of it—“Father!”

The feeling was something like this: imagine a little child waking up and realizing that his mother is not home. What does the child do? He cries—he cries uncontrollably. Let’s say he cries for an hour, but the mother still hasn’t come. A three-year-old child, after crying that long, won’t be able to cry anymore; he just whimpers, “h-heuh… heuh…” while waiting in fear, thinking, “Mom, please come home soon…” And then, in the midst of that fear, the door suddenly opens and the mother walks in. What does the child do then? He cries again—not out of joy alone, but because he is overwhelmed—relieved, comforted, and also sorrowful.

That is exactly what it felt like when I received the Holy Spirit. The Truth I had pursued for decades—the God I had longed to meet—came in. He came into me. He entered by the Holy Spirit. And all at once, joy, sorrow, awe, and even a sense of deep release and relief—all these emotions burst out together, and I wept uncontrollably. I was overwhelmed with gratitude. But the main feeling was joy—the overwhelming joy of realizing, “I have finally met God!”

So from that moment on, I kept crying. I cried and cried—so much that when the sermon was about to begin, the people next to me told me I should stop. Praise had already gone on for about thirty minutes, and the preacher was coming up to speak, which means I had been crying for a full hour. And I didn’t cry quietly—this wasn’t a soft “sniff… sniff…” I was crying like an animal, “Uhhh—uhhh!” with tears and mucus running everywhere. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw that my mucus had soaked the floor in front of me, and my face was covered with tears. It was embarrassing, of course, but none of that mattered. I was so full of joy that, if I could have stayed in that moment, I would have wanted to cry the entire day.

That was my experience of receiving the Holy Spirit. And what was amazing is this: from that very moment, everything I had heard before suddenly became something I believed. I simply believed it. I no longer had to ask whether God created the heavens and the earth—it became something completely obvious inside me. And the truth that “Jesus is the Son of God” also became entirely natural to me. I found myself thinking, “How could any of this exist if there were no God?” Everything changed. What I had only heard with my mind suddenly became faith within me.

So without the Holy Spirit, the word you hear can reach only as far as your mind. But when you receive the Holy Spirit, that word enters straight into your soul. And because of that, no matter what hardships come afterward, you cannot forget the joy of that encounter. In a way, the power of that meeting—the joy of that moment—is what holds your entire life of faith from that day forward. That experience sustains you.

And that experience was exactly what is written in the Bible about Jesus. From then on, His power also began to appear. When I laid my hands on the sick, demons fled. About three months after that experience, I went to the army, and even there, whenever I saw someone who was sick, I laid my hands on them, and they were healed. And something else changed: before, when I read the Scriptures, I could hardly understand what they meant. But from that moment on, reading the Bible became so enjoyable. I could understand what it was saying.

And listening to sermons also became completely different. For three months at Sungrak Church, I listened to the messages, yet I could not understand what was being said, and the preacher didn’t leave much of an impression on me. But after receiving the Holy Spirit, the very person preaching the Word looked entirely different to me. His message sounded completely different. Before, I heard nothing; after receiving the Spirit, it became so enjoyable. I could understand what he was saying. And this very state is written throughout the Scriptures: “When you receive the Holy Spirit, He will make you understand. When you receive the Holy Spirit, He will lead you into all truth.” It is amazing, isn’t it?

From that point on, my life became a life in which the words of Scripture were being fulfilled—a life in which I began to experience the very things Jesus experienced. And as those experiences continued, where did they ultimately lead? Because Jesus was raised from the dead, I too will be raised. That is why the Bible says, “If the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you”—that is, if the Holy Spirit dwells in you—“He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.” So the Holy Spirit must be in us. Just as God raised Jesus, He will also raise us—if the Spirit is in us. Therefore, of course, you must receive the Holy Spirit.

That is why I refer to the day I received the Holy Spirit as the day I “met God.” As I shared in my testimony before, after I started working, I told my department manager, “I met God on August 2nd, 1992!” He asked, “What do you mean by that?” And I said, “You must meet God as well!” So this man, who had already been a Christian for fifty years, began to seek the Holy Spirit. And when he received the Holy Spirit, he experienced the very same thing—he received Him with the same encounter I had.

You must receive the Holy Spirit. Those of us who believe in Jesus must receive Him. If you do not receive the Holy Spirit, it is like washing a dish clean but never putting any food into it. What is the use of cleaning a dish perfectly if you do not place anything in it? That is why you must welcome the Holy Spirit. You are already clean. Those who are united with Jesus—those who have been baptized—are already made clean. But if someone still does not have faith in the forgiveness of sins, then you must first have that faith and be baptized. The Scripture says, “He who believes and is baptized will be saved.” When you are baptized, you become one with Jesus. Then you are fully prepared to receive the Holy Spirit—even if your actions still lack in some ways. Some may say, “I can do everything else, but I still can’t quit smoking!” That’s all right. Receive the Holy Spirit first. And the Holy Spirit will give you the strength. Anyone who is united with Jesus can receive the Holy Spirit. You must earnestly desire Him.

But when Jesus came to this earth, He came fully knowing that He would be killed. He came with the resolve: “When I go, people will reject Me, hate Me, and eventually nail Me to the cross.” He came prepared for that. But when the Holy Spirit comes into me, He does not come saying, “If I enter Ki-Taek, I will be despised, mistreated, and ignored.” No—He comes as a King. He comes as the One who says, “When I enter him, I will use him, move him, rule him, and lead him so that he follows the way of Jesus. I will make Ki-Taek follow Jesus.” Yes, Jesus suffered on this earth. But when we follow Him, what ultimately happens? Just as Jesus was raised from the dead, Ki-Taek will also be raised. And just as Jesus ascended into heaven and entered glory, Ki-Taek will also ascend to heaven. That is why the Holy Spirit is given—not only to certain individuals, but to all who believe. Jesus described this, saying, “Out of his belly will flow rivers of living water.” Earlier, I mentioned how it felt as if something exploded in my belly. This is what it means: rivers of living water flow out. Life overflows.

This is something God is willing to give without limit. He gives it to every person who believes. So you must long for the Holy Spirit. “Holy Spirit, I thought the Spirit of God was given only to Jesus, yet You pour Him out even on someone like me—thank You! Please pour out the Holy Spirit upon me! Pour out the Spirit of God upon me!” When we receive the spirit of the world—when we receive an unclean spirit—the characteristics of that spirit appear in us. If a demon that died of cancer enters a person, cancer appears. If a demon that died in a fire enters, fires break out. And if a demon that died in repeated car accidents enters, car accidents keep happening. But when the Holy Spirit comes, you rise. You ascend. You later enter eternal life. The life of God begins to work within you. The characteristics of God begin to appear. You become good, as God is good. You become bold, as God is bold. You become peaceful, as God is peaceful. When the Holy Spirit comes upon you, you become a part of God. You become a part of Jesus Christ.

So let me share a secret with you. You may not notice it outwardly, but I actually have tremendous self-respect. How do I view myself? I always live with the awareness, “I am part of Jesus!” That is how I think. I cannot express it too strongly, but to be honest, I think almost to this extent: “I am Jesus.” Meaning, I am His member—I am His body. For example, if someone hits my finger, I do not say, “Hey, why did you hit my finger? My finger must hurt a lot—though it has nothing to do with me, please do not hit my finger again.” No one talks like that. If someone hits my finger, I say, “Why are you hitting me?” Because my finger is me. In the same way, we are the members of Jesus—His body, His fingers, His limbs. God regards us as Himself. Jesus Christ treats us as Himself. And this is why we can face demons and the devil with the very heart and boldness of Jesus. That is why we are fearless.

One day, my child was walking to kindergarten, and suddenly he collapsed to the ground. He just dropped. I first thought he was playing around and said, “Hey, get up!”—but he couldn’t. He could not stand. In that moment my heart sank. A terrible fear came over me, because when I was in China helping people through deliverance ministry, I had met a couple of people who became paralyzed the same way—they were walking, suddenly collapsed, and from that moment on they couldn’t stand. They were later healed and even served in ministry, but that memory came rushing back. And now my child was on the ground, unable to get up. I panicked. I tried to get a taxi to rush him to the hospital, but no taxi came. As I was standing there, I suddenly thought, “What am I doing? I say I have faith, I say I am a part of Jesus—so what am I doing right now?” In that moment, I did not think of myself merely as this child’s father. I thought, “I am a part of Jesus. I am His member. In other words, I am Jesus’ own.”

So what did I do? I did not pray, “God, please heal him!” Jesus taught us that not every situation is handled only by prayer—there are times when we must use the authority He has given us. So I issued a command to my child. I said, “I command you in the name of Jesus—stand up!” And suddenly, he jumped to his feet—so easily it almost felt anticlimactic. Then I said, “Run!” and he started running off. He was excited too, amazed at what had happened.

So to others, it probably looked like nothing—something so simple they would just laugh and move on. It ended so easily. But it could have been something very serious. People of faith often resolve great matters in such simple ways that, to others, it seems trivial. Yet we recognize it as the work of God. And this is the authority that belongs to those who have received the Holy Spirit.

So pray, “God, pour out the Holy Spirit upon me!” The Holy Spirit who comes in the name of Jesus—once He comes and enters into you, He does not leave. Not even when you die. He never becomes separated from your soul. Once the Holy Spirit enters, He remains. There is only one way He would depart: if you were to declare, “Jesus is not the Son of God. I was deceived by Him. Jesus is cursed.” If you utterly deny Him in that way, then the Holy Spirit will depart. But aside from that—no matter what other mistakes you may commit—the Holy Spirit will never leave you. He remains forever. As long as you do not reject Him, He will stay with you eternally and lead you all the way to heaven.

So pray, “Give me the Holy Spirit!” Earlier I said that when we cannot cry out, we become restricted, right? So even if your voice is small, let us at least lift it up together and pray for a moment. Say repeatedly, “God, pour out the Holy Spirit upon me!” It is even better if you can say it loudly.

Let us try it together. Everyone, say, “Jesus!” Ready?

“Jesus! Give me the Holy Spirit!
I welcome You!
Come into me!
Lead me!”

Now let each of us sincerely call out, “Jesus!” and pray.

“Jesus!”

Father God, pour out Your holy Spirit upon every soul who has opened their mouth today to seek Him. As You have promised, lead them into all truth so that they may understand and perceive the words spoken by Jesus, the Son of God. We thank You, and we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.