When Vongco Eriano leads worship, there are moments when his eyes drift across the room and he imagines his brother-in-law sitting among the people, watching him sing.
It is an image that has remained with him, even after all these years.
His brother-in-law was the man who travelled from Sabah to look for Vongco, eventually finding him sleeping on Kuala Lumpur’s streets. He was the man who rented a small apartment for them to live in, who shared meals with him when money was scarce, and who once told Vongco that he wished he could see him singing in church.
Today, Vongco is a worship leader and BM pastor at SIBKL, caring for youth and campus students. His voice, which once filled bars as he sang for drinking crowds, is now used to lead people in worship.
“If my brother-in-law was still alive today, I think he would have a very big smile on his face,” Vongco beamed.
To understand why that thought carries so much weight for him, however, is to go back to the man he once was.
“A very naughty kid” during his school years, music eventually gave him direction. After completing a diploma in music, he came to Kuala Lumpur hoping to build a life for himself. Instead, he spent about a month homeless, sleeping on the streets.
Then his brother-in-law came from Sabah looking for him. “Somehow, he found me… sleeping on the pavement of KL Sentral,” Vongco recalled.
Vowing to help him get back on his feet, Vongco’s brother-in-law rented a small apartment, and the two began working in Kuala Lumpur. They had little, making do with what they had. “We would buy one nasi lemak and eat half each to save money,” Vongco shared.
He became a bar singer, drinking every night, taking drugs and embracing a liberal lifestyle that was far removed from the life he would eventually lead.
“I was singing to impress people,” he said. “I wanted people to see me and think that I was good.” His brother-in-law, however, seemed to see something in him that Vongco himself could not yet see. “I wish one day I can see you singing in church,” he told the young man.
A few weeks later, his brother-in-law died in his sleep.
The loss plunged Vongco into depression, and at his lowest point, he remembers sitting in his car and intending to drive into a tree. “I closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was at my sister’s house,” he recounted, still surprised by what had happened. “I believe God saved me. God was already there, even when I did not know Him properly.”
He returned to Sabah, trying to leave his old lifestyle behind. Then, one night, he had a dream in which an old man told him, “Bangun, bangkit, kamu dipilih” - “Get up, rise up, you are chosen.”
Just then, his sister woke him up and at that moment, received a call from a church leader looking for someone to serve on the worship team. When they asked if she knew a man who could join, Vongco found himself saying, “Choose me.”
His journey of faith began, leading him to pursue a degree at Seminari Teologi Malaysia.
As he began serving in worship, Vongco discovered that singing could mean something entirely different from what it had meant in the bars.
“In the bar, I was singing for people. I wanted to impress people. But in church, I felt free. I knew there was meaning in my singing.”
That sense of meaning has followed him into his ministry today. As a pastor working with young people, Vongco draws from his own difficult seasons to connect with students without judgment.
“I understand what it is like to be lost,” he says. “So when young people come to me, I don’t want to judge them. I want them to know that God can still find them.”
And whenever Vongco stands before a congregation to lead worship, he still remembers the man who once hoped to see him there.