The Sound Like the Sea in Pyongyang

In January 1907, fifteen hundred Korean Christians gathered at Jangdaehyeon Church in Pyongyang for a week of Bible study. The meetings began quietly — hymns, scripture readings, polite prayers. But by the fourth evening, something broke open.

An elder named Kil Sun-Ju stood before the congregation and confessed his sin publicly — bitterness he had nursed, dishonesty he had hidden, pride he had worn like a second skin. Then another person stood. Then another. Soon the entire congregation was weeping aloud, voices rising together in what missionary William Blair described as a sound like the roaring of the sea.

These were not people performing piety. Korea groaned under Japanese occupation. The church was fractured by rivalry and mistrust. And in that hall, believers stopped pretending they had it together and cried out with the raw honesty of Isaiah: "We are all like an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are like filthy rags."

What followed transformed Korean Christianity for a century. Broken relationships were mended. Stolen money was returned. The city itself seemed changed in the weeks after.

Isaiah's ancient prayer — "Oh, that You would rend the heavens and come down!" — finds its echo wherever God's people stop performing and start confessing. The Almighty does not wait for perfect people. He waits for honest ones, clay that has finally stopped resisting the Potter's hands.