Archive: On Holy Ground

This Indian-born lecturer removes his shoes to preach to people no one notices

By Sara L. Anderson

It has been said of Sam Kamaleson, “He has spoken in face-to-face encounters with more church leaders than anyone in the world.” “Sam who?” you ask. Through speaking for World Vision and his work in establishing pastors’ conferences around the world, Sam Kamaleson’s influence is widespread. Still, he is not well-known to the Church at large, partially because those to whom he ministers are not well-known.

It is with this grassroots level of leadership that Kamaleson, World Vision’s vice president for evangelism and leadership enhancement, works. “They roll up their sleeves and work in the mud and dust,” Sam says of the people to whom he ministers. “They are the crust, the salt of the earth. Whether we are there or not, they are going to go because the Lord has called them, and we learn from them. If we don’t relate to them, we are not relating to the Church.”

Yet it is with quiet humility that Kamaleson works, humility communicated by politeness and cultural sensitivity. While talking with individuals or groups he never crosses his legs, observers note, since in many cultures showing the sole of your shoe demonstrates contempt. His concern for individuals is obvious. Asbury College President Dennis Kinlaw says, “He’ll take my hand and speak to me, and when he’s through it’s as if I’ve been baptized in love.”

Kamaleson surreptitiously removes his shoes before he preaches, says Kinlaw, who has shared many a conference platform with him. When Sam is behind the pulpit “he’s standing on holy ground,” explains Kinlaw.

That holy ground, which has stretched around the globe, was consecrated in India. A sixth-generation Anglican, Kamaleson strayed from the Church when he left home to attend the University of Madras to study anatomy. “I didn’t think the Church and its message were so essential,” he recalls. However, his roommate, a Hindu, heard a street-preaching team and turned to the Lord. “It was his life and witness and his perseverance in prayer that led me to the Lord,” Sam says. Kamaleson became part of the struggling but vital Methodist congregation there because it was closest to the campus. Then Methodist missionary J.T. Seamands, now professor emeritus at Asbury Theological Seminary, visited Madras with his quartet. After leaving, J.T. continued to encourage Sam in his commitment to Christ, sending letters and sheet music. (Sam was a singer as well.) “I found that the range of J.T.’s voice was very similar to mine,” Sam says, flashing a wide smile. “So in my anatomy classes I was copying music instead of studying anatomy.”

J.T. Seamands was no stumbling block to Kamaleson’s education but instead persuaded Sam to attend Asbury Seminary. “I came because of the music,” Sam says, “then got hooked on theology.”

During his time in the United States, Sam worked with Mennonite farmers in northern Indiana in preparation for the veterinary work he hoped to do back in India. He saw that as a way to reach people in rural areas for Christ.

But when Sam returned to his home church J.T. Seamands, the appointed pastor, could not serve the parish because one of his daughters was ill, and the family had to return to America. So Sam promised the congregation of Emmanuel Methodist he would be its pastor for one year. That year eventually stretched to 13 incredible years.

David Seamands, J.T.’s brother and the Methodist district superintendent who had appointed him to Emmanuel Methodist Church, also greatly influenced Sam. Like his brother, David encouraged the young pastor through letter-writing, and he led Sam into what we call the “second experience of grace.”

Under Sam’s ministry Emmanuel Church blossomed. “In three months we couldn’t close the altar in any service, including prayer meeting,” Sam recalls. “People always came forward to receive the Lord.” During this time the church recorded 300 percent growth in attendance and giving. “We had to pull the walls down three times,” Sam says.

But Sam did not forget his commitment to rural ministry. He instituted the Salem Project in Banishpet, India, an agricultural project with a basic philosophy he developed at Asbury. The first goal was for the community, not just one person, to evangelize. Second, the community would live in the context of the country. For instance, since India is primarily an agrarian society, it should be an agricultural fellowship. Third, the community should be self-sufficient, contribute to and speak to its environment.

The Salem Project, officially known as Bethel Agricultural Fellowship, has met those goals for 21 years now. The list of its ministries seems endless:

• A hospital with 30 beds and 3 doctors. “We do complicated surgery; we have specialists visiting every week—skin, eye and surgical specialists, ” Kamaleson explains. Postnatal and prenatal counseling are provided, and skin diseases like leprosy are treated. Bethel also operates a government-recognized center for tuberculosis prevention, with free medicine and other assistance provided.
• A training center, Bethel Bible Institute, which prepares people for missions.
• Provisions for needy children. “In a society where economic conditions can be very trying, children bear the brunt of it,” Sam says. The Bethel Community cares for destitute children, murderers’ children (society ostracizes them), children of leprous parents and orphaned children. The community cares for 600 children there and nearly 3000 in other locations in India.
• Agricultural projects. Young men with promise are brought in from the surrounding villages to stay on the campus for 10 to 21 days to learn everything they need to know about the cultivation of hybrid seeds. “At graduation they receive a packet of hybrid seeds and a Bible,” Sam says. “Most of them make commitments to the Lord before they leave. When they return to their villages they become the center around which to form a congregation.” This is how churches are built (with the help of World Vision).
• A vocational training institute. Young men with mechanical aptitudes are taught skills ranging from cabinetmaking to electronics, and use these skills to support themselves when they leave the community.

Bethel’s influence has produced marvelous results.

First scenario: “We’ve been able to influence murderers in prison,” Sam says. “Their children are our wards, and when they come to know the Lord they often write their fathers saying, ‘Although we can’t live together on planet Earth, there is a Father’s house. And there we will never be separated, Dad, if you’d only receive the Lord Jesus Christ.’

“That of course breaks even the hardest of criminals, and they will write to us and ask, ‘Can you send me the book?’ So we send the Bible,” Sam explains. “And in every major prison we’ve got a nucleus of believing prisoners who have caused a ‘revolution’ to happen there.”

Second scenario: Some of the children of leprous parents now have university degrees. “One fellow has specialized in Islamic studies. … He wants to be a channel to properly articulate the gospel,” Sam says. He adds that one girl has earned a degree in commerce. “These are children of lepers, who had no place to go except to contract the disease themselves.”

Third scenario: The Tamils, people deported from Ceylon, now Sri Lanka, had been involved in bloody and deadly conflicts with another group of people. World Vision projected a program to help rehabilitate those Tamils belonging to a militant group, the Tigers. “We started with 25 or 30 people at a time. They got converted.” Now back in Sri Lanka, “they’ve got congregations going, and I write to them regularly,” Sam says.

A majority of Sam’s activity now revolves around his work with two types of World Vision-sponsored pastors’ conferences. The first is by invitation. A group from any dot on the world map may ask World Vision to come and address some biblically-based theme. For instance, a group in the Pacific islands determined that one of its main problems was how the people, as Christians, could cope with tourist traffic. World Vision brought in speakers from around the world to address the issue.

It takes about two years to put together such a conference and develop the funding (World Vision pays different percentages, depending on the socio-economic condition of the area). The conferences have broad appeal. One held in Nairobi, Kenya, drew 1,700 pastors from 70 denominations; another in Bolivia drew the same number.

Sam, an Indian citizen, has an easier time gaining entry into some of these countries, and he has even been able to minister behind the Iron Curtain. “We get into corners where prominent teams cannot,” Sam says.

The second type of conference, a non-agenda conference, helps executives and top denominational leaders learn to build relationships with each other. Most regular conferences are centered around a rigorous agenda, but in these meetings discussion and worship are free-flowing.

In Ecuador, where united conferences had not taken place because denominational heads couldn’t agree with each other, World Vision hosted a three-day, non-agenda conference for 35-40 leaders. “The second evening we were speaking about the Holy Spirit in an informal way, and the Spirit going to Moscow. I’ve lost my son!’ He began to cry. Nobody knew what to do. I put my arms around him and intuitively responded, ‘I have two grown sons; I know what you are talking about. Brother, let me pray for you.’ Then one by one they put their hands on us. This was a breaking point.”

The session went on until 2:00 a.m. As a result, the first national pastors’ conference took place because the denominational leaders had come together. That has happened in more than one place. “Let the Holy Spirit work among us,” Kamaleson says. “Amazing things do happen.”

When asked what he admires most about Sam, Kin law’s response is immediate: “Integrity.” He explains that even in situations with hostile people Sam is not defensive, but he’s clear-headed and direct. Sam’s that way with people of any religious or political persuasion. Yet in his dealings “he is never unfaithful to Christ as the truth, even while asking others what he can learn from them.”

If we were to ask Sam the reason for his quiet success, he would immediately call attention to his wife. “My wife is more than a partner to me,” he says. “She is a teammate. And her understanding releases me to do all that I have done. Yet that is not my identity. Being a child of God is my identity.”

Sara L. Anderson is associate editor of Good News and associate editor of Bristol Books.