Losing a Son, Gaining Faith..!

By Robert Clements. Dated: 2/6/2019 2:52:56 PM

One of the most powerful influences on my life is that of Rev Dr Sam Kamaleson! I remember as a twelve-year old, sitting on mats which were provided to kids and listening to his powerful oratory, awed by both magnificent voice and his deep faith and as I grew older his sermons touched a deep chord within my very rebellious heart and his words stirred me deep within.
Many years later, after he had moved to Canada and I to Bombay, I received a letter from him. He had read my column in a newspaper there, but not recognizing me, emailed me saying he loved what I had written, and then mentioned something in the next line that I will always remember, “Journalists,“ he said, “are the prophets of old!” He continued telling me it was my duty to write and warn people the perils and pitfalls of following any disastrous path or leader.
That, he told me, was my job, to be done fearlessly.
Later I was part of the choir, and in the evening, before the service, we practiced in his sitting room in the parsonage. Ever so often, his three little children, Mano, all of five or six years, NImmi and Sundar would walk in, attracted by the singing, or peep through the curtains. We grew to love the tiny tots.
Two weeks ago, Mano was killed in a bomb blast in Afghanistan.
My heart cried for the father, Dr Sam who is ninety-two years old today. He had lost his wife a few years ago, and so she was not there to grieve with him. “How could you do this to a father who loved and served you Lord?” I asked in sheer disbelief, and then this morning watched a video of the funeral service. I watched as three grandsons slowly helped an old man onto the pulpit to speak, and I wondered whether he would breakdown in grief.
How mistaken I was. His aged, yet still incredible voice rang out speaking about the certainty of where his son was now. He spoke of forgiving those who were behind the bomb blast and in his old eyes was absolute hope, and in his still powerful voice conviction. He knew his son had just walked over to the very God, he’d spent his whole life telling people about.
I remembered little Mano, my own eyes were brimming with tears, but Dr Sam Kamaleson’s stared straight into mine and the eyes of the mourners saying silently, “I know where he’s gone,he’s fine!”
As I felt his strength at own son’s funeral, as I saw his even more resolute conviction and unshaken faith I had no doubts that he had led me years ago to the One true, living God he believed in, who, in conquering death had taken away all fear of it..!



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