Reflection during Holy Communion

Scripture Reference: John 18:33-38 1 Corin 11:23-30

We are told by Paul to take the bread and the wine and remember Jesus. Rememberance is not a sentimental nostalgia. Not reliving a glorious era or period over and over. A true act of remembering is the ability to connect the past with how we are faring now. It’s the ability to take a pivotal event in the past and apply the lessons to face today. The telling of the past instructs, informs and encourages us to live in the present in the light of the past. Take for example, the events of the racial riots of May 13 in the past, helps us to never take each racial group for granted. We remember May 13 as a painful event and guard and check ourselves today to exercise restraint, tolerance & respecting each other as it is too painful and too great a cost to go through it again.

Likewise remembering the sacrifice of Jesus’ body and blood as the perfect lamb for our sins marks an important and loving event 2000 years ago, and begs a questions, what does it mean for us today?

That brings us to the Pontius Pilate’s question before Jesus, “What is truth?” The truth of the matter is, Pilate is not interested in truth. He is interested in keeping peace in his obscure Jewish outpost, so that his career will not be jeopardized. He asks the question, but does not wait for the answer. For he had waited and pondered and listened to the voice of faith than to the voice of the crowd, he would have consider the Way, the Truth, and the Life standing in front of him. Perhaps he asked out of sarcasm, perhaps he asked a question ahead of his time. A question which perhaps more apt and fitting for our times, in today’s sophiscated and technologically savvy world.

The world today asks also the question, “What is truth?” And the truth is, sometimes we are also guilty of being more concerned about keeping peace and happiness than righteousness and holiness, about thinking much about ourselves than thinking much of others, about receiving than giving, about going our own ways than submitting our ways to Christ Jesus.

This morning we remember Jesus’ sacrificial act on the cross through his broken body and shedding of his blood, we bring this past event and try to connect and integrate it in our lives today. We ask not, “What is truth?” for we are already followers of the Truth, but how has truth being evident in our lives, being applied in our lives and how has Christ being seen in every facet of our lives… that is the question we ask this morning. We shall ponder this question for a while and allow ourselves to answer that question in our hearts before our Lord…..

A Day in Kem National Service - 4 Jan 2009

He came running towards us. His awkward way of running confirms that it was AG. He looked smart in his light blue uniform and his shiny black shoes. He never had a pair of black 'leather' shoes and now we don't have to buy one. His mum's eyes were already like wells of water. Hers were not the only pair of eyes wet. His hair trimmed soldier short. When informed of our arrival, he was washing his clothes. He slumped in a plastic chair and related his experience thus far in Kem Terkok, Sg Siput. Between the tone of his voice, and his choice of words, it doesn’t take a psychologist that know that he is expressing his disappointment and aches. Let’s face it, life is hard at National Service. No wonder many shirk it. From little food to deplorable living conditions, little sleep and constant marching under the hot sun that makes your legs weak and your body faint. Truth be told, it’s an ulu place.

The main road you see is Lintang which is a sub road from Sungai Siput. A small signboard is all you get to give you a hint that Kem Terkok is 1.5 km from this signboard. The small road accessible to only one way of vehicle at a time passes through rubber plantations and palm oil plantations. AG had said that its so ulu to deter anyone from escaping :-).

We started our journey at 6:50 am and reached the campsite at 10 am. The highway in the morning was covered with mist, like the fog you experience in England, especially on the Perak stretch. There were already a couple of families there visiting when we arrived. They page for him, “Sila mengambil perhatian, di kehendaki wira Ahh Moosss datang ke kawasan lawatan sebab keluarga anda sedang menunggu.” We had heard a fair share of people mispronouncing his name. We had to call him on his phone as he had not heard the announcement, after all he was focusing hard on washing his clothes. We were elated to see him.

The long blue roof houses the meeting area, while the smaller blue roof in the foreground of the picture houses the sundry shop. A can of coke goes for RM1.70 (not too bad). Yes, folks if you didn't bring a pail for washing clothes along, you can even get it there for RM6! We cannot venture beyond the coconut tress.

Now comes the hard test. We had wanted to bring AG out for the day but they wouldn’t allow. Prior to that we had prayed that we would be able to bring him out. Despite reasoning, they still said no. I could tell that Amos was ultra disappointed. They said that the Kem Kommander was away and no one to give the approval. Fair enough, I asked for the 2nd in command then, they replied that he is also out. In an organization and set up that relies on a chain of command and authority, I reasoned again that then I should see the 3rd person in command in the Kem. This went on for a few minutes. After that, he said, “tunggu sekejap…” my hopes were raised. We left the camp at 10:30 am with AG after he gobbled down a piece of cake. The family beside our table came to enquire what forms are we filling up. They thought we were filling up the early release letter/form for CNY. No, we told them we had written a letter for that already and we brought along to get them to acknowledge receipt.

We explored Sungai Siput town which is about 10 km away. We went for “chee chong fun” for breakfast and went to THE STORE to browse some items. Then we went to the most expensive restaurant in Sg Siput, the KFC restaurant :-). Had lunch there, and proceeded to have some cendul, probably best in town. No, we did not see Samy Vellu. Later went to a hypermarket to buy some items and guess what, it is time to bring him back to the camp already, as we promised he would be back at 4 pm.

We discovered that God's favour is upon AG as we experienced the following:-

a. trainers were helpful, friendly, and polite

b. we were able to go out despite the rules (later found out from AG that we were the only family that able to go out of all the 90 odd families that came that day)

c. good dorm mates despite different races (that is the aim of this national integration thingy, right?)

d. little but powerful events that lets him know that God is in his midst

Sorry I don't have the permission to post his picture taken with his mum as I need to respect his privacy and wishes especially with his new hair style.

We find that suddenly many youths are Christians because it will guarantee you out of the Kem on Sundays 3-5 pm. You have only a Catholic or a Mandarin speaking Chinese Methodist Church to choose from. They don't believe that "bananas" can be Christians :-). My son related on Jan 1, new year's day, some youth requested the authorities to send the youths out for church service. After arriving there in the church premises and finding it closed, the driver proceeded to give the youths a lecture and tongue lashing. The quick thinking youth resorted to telling him that "Gereja besar besar di Selangor semua ada mesyuarat dan servis!" :-) While I do not condone the half truths, I must admit there is always ingenuinity in trying to get the authorities to let them out.

We miss him very much!

National Service teaches to trust God both parents and trainee. Trust Him to be in control for things outside your control. They say you will have a "man back from national service." I would like to add that you have a "person who trusts God" back from National Service.

It is hard to be in national service, that is why I sms all YA youths assigned to NS every weekend as a way of encouraging them and spurring them on in the Lord!

Emmanuel!

Rekekah leaving home

It was a loud crack of a kitchen pot dropping. I must have dozed off for half an hour from the entire night of tossing and turning. My normal fluffy and comfortable bed offered me no solace this time around. I had awoken feeling more tired than if I had not dozed off. I spent the cool night thinking about the warm farewell party the night before, and the numerous hugs and well wishes I received. Last night many tears have flowed, but I wasn’t sure they were tears of sadness to see me go or tears of joy for a new chapter in my life unfolding or even both.

My heart is heavy, my body numbed, and I seemed to have a grasshopper hopping in my stomach providing uneasiness, discomfort every other minute, and endless pain that permeates my entire body.

The sun is not up yet and won’t be for another hour or two. I realized that the sound from the kitchen, was mama feverishly preparing a favourite dish to accompany my journey. She had wanted me to sleep in and not to help her as preannounced the night before. I lit a candle which quickly lights up every corner of my room. I stared at my packed bag, and run my hand through my soft dress and scarf. I am leaving home, the thought sank deep. I can’t help but feel that every item in my bag reminds me of a part of me here. Even more odd is that I know that a strange bend of a branch that I will see elsewhere will bring to thought the ladle mama uses in the kitchen. Likewise, a smoothened surfaced rock will remind me of the small flat dressing table that papa had it made for me when I was 12. To see a high forehead of a stranger will immediately bring to mind papa’s maidservant. The sight of a lily will bring images of papa gathering a bunch of lilies on the sideboard every Wednesdays.

Admittedly leaving home for the first time is hard, painfully hard. What more leaving papa, mama, and Laban my brother. They are awesomely gracious to me, for I know they are acting brave, and remaining strong for my sake.

I had secretly and partially wished that mama or papa would have objected to allowing me to follow this stranger back. He said he was sent by his master to seek for a wife for his son. Frankly, I didn’t know giving him and his 10 filthy and stinking camels water to be nourished was in fact a selection criteria. How odd! A serious and noble decision based on a simple act. Any lady would have done that simple gesture.

At the party last night I heard whispers of accusation against my parents judgment in believing such simplistic story of a wife seeking entourage. They shrudded at the thought of a beauty maiden in the hands of a total stranger. And the only collateral he had was a reference to a great uncle whom we had not seen in ages. Anyone could have played up that story for evil gain.

Truth be told, I actually believed his story. Maybe it was the intensity that he told it and the excitement seen in his eyes without dropping from ours once. But more importantly I believed the story of the God of my great uncle who tries to weave his hand in my great uncle’s life and promised him a nation as many as the sand of the sea. Ironically a father of many offspring cannot find a wife for his son. My family requested that I stayed a further 10 days to ensure our goodbyes were long and complete. However, the servant pleaded otherwise. I was surprised I was given to right to arbitrate over it. I chose to go immediately. If you have seen that pair of eyes, you would have understood why.

Sure, I would be lying if I said I have never thought how the son looked. Would he be handsome? Wouldn’t it be every girls dream of marrying one? What about romance? Would he be ugly? Would he be strong or would he be frail, with his two front teeth protruding out even when lips are sealed. Would he have a high & sharp nose, bright eyes, and long wavy soft hair. Would he treat me and my maids well? Would he be gentle, kind, loving and caring? Would he be a spoiled brat of a millionaire’s son that you know so well about? Frankly I am not sure, my heart is stirred with anticipation and soured with fear. I am entrust it to the greater Scheme of things. The Lord of Abraham my great uncle will surely make it well even if things are considered unwell for me.

Mama has taught me well socially among many things. I consoled myself to think that I shall never be lonely even if I was alone. I am well liked and I draw friends like bees to honey. My personality ensures that I relate to people well. What a blessing to have!

Now I am about to be thrusted into the future. My fears of the unknown, of a new environment and surrounding, of a new schedule to keep, of the transition from a lady to a women, of the new role I am set to play, and of serving a total stranger and pleasing a man who’s personality I know not, sends a shiver down my spine.

However, at the same time, I have a strong hunch that this feelings are actually blessings dressed in the clothes of fear. I am at the dawn of a new morning, of a journey, of an adventure, of possibilities, of new friendships, of new relationships, of new challenges, of new trust in my faith, and of an encounter with the God of my great uncle Abraham, where fears are only a precursor, an onion for me to peel to get to the blessing, and a small membrane for my blessing to break free from and avail itself and to be experienced in fullness.

“Rebekah”, I heard mama called me, breaking the silence, “its time for your blessed transition to begin.” Perhaps that sums up everything about leaving home.

Glory be to the God of Abraham!

Governance Structure Model

I am the type that I needed a picture (or a model) first before I can write anything. Perhaps I am a pictorial person versus audio one.

My first attempt at a Governance Structure Model. Essentially this model describe how we can govern the implementation well for the customer. 4 rectangles and 4 ovals and cost a couple of millions? hmmm.....

See whether you can make sense of the below:-

(cannot seemed to upload it....will get it to jpg format and try again)

Another day

This morning, I contacted my boss to let him know that I wanted to work from home today....then I realised that I had left the laptop in the office...which made me looked like a fool to contact him again to say that I am going into the office.

Back in the office, my boss came to see me and said, "I need your help...." a.k.a "here's work for you to do." Wanted me to write a governance structural plan for a multi million dollar bid for a implementation out of Singapore. I am still a bit blur of what is to be written. He thinks I have a magical wand that can whip words into a plan and document. See me soooo UP! :-) Well....actually he thinks I don't have much to do. Actually, goreng lor.... and do a song and dance. Anyway, whatever requested of me I will do a good job, that's a promise.

Bought 3 books again on Monday..... No. 791 already. Oh dear when can I finish reading all my books? Latest one, "Shadow and Chivalry" is on a commentary on C S Lewis and George MacDonald on their fantasical writings relating to Suffering, Pain and Goodness.

Didn't know that both Lewis and MacDonald lost their mothers when they were very young.

Anyway I wish you all a good day...

What to do when you don't know what to do?

Well...it has been a long while since I last posted.... will try to dust off my fingers and start typing else I be stricken with alhziemer?

Have you ever been in that situation? Not knowing what to do when you are in a dire situation? Like now? What to do, huh, when my "tai kor" (a.k.a Uncle Eric) has moved on to other ministries from the YA? Or that future is so uncertain with my working contract expiring prematurely and the prospect of the need of funds for college studies. Or the not feeling that well physically situation? The feeling of the heart weighing a tonne of bricks, and the lips could offer only dry words. One turns to prayer and scriptures as a form of antidote and the silence has never been more deafening. That heavy and helpless feeling does not abate. If my theology is right, it is not supposed to. My propensity to trust should increase, but, feeling, no!

What do you do when you do not know what to do? You wrestle? Wrestle? Just like Jacob? Yes, just like Jacob wrestled with God. Ronn Dunn (author of When Heaven is Silent) described a situation when he could not recognised his postman in an airport just because he was not in uniform. Is life like that too? Often we could not recognise a thing because it was wrapped in a different package. A blessing is not recognised when wrapped in a difficulty. Who can see beyond a failed exam? What blessing can come in a failed exam? Isn't that how our finite mind would argue?

Twenty years have passed, since the conman, Jacob, cheated his brother of his birth right and blessings. And Jacob now stands at the edge of the stream of Jabbok, after he received news that his brother Esau and his entourage of 400 men is set to meet him. He is unsure whether Esau has forgiven him. Jacob breaks his own entourage into 2, sending his family ahead to mitigate the risk. There at the edge of Jabbok he spent his night alone with his miseries, with his insecurities, with his "what to do when you don't know what to do" feelings. Genesis 32 tells us his blessings came admidst his struggles and wrestles with the angel. If you have seen a Olympic wrestling contest before, you realised that contestants throw everything at each other. The contest highlights your strength, yet, it also exposes your weaknesses. You appear to gain the upper hand, within that same breath, you are interlocked in a helpless grip and stranglehold by your opponent. That is how wrestling is supposed to be. God and us in a wrestling match and we throw everything at each other. We throw our complaints and our immaturities, He throws His often miscontrued-by-us loving actions.

I had often wondered how would an angel lose to a human in a wrestling match, unless..., unless the former had wanted the latter to win. At the breaking of dawn, God who was with Jacob through his entire wrestling episode, showed Jacob, a face not of fear and hopelessness, but a face of love to Jacob. His limp reminded him vividly of his blessing.

What am I do when I don't know what to do, Lord? I don't know, but I do know that you are with me AND you often package your blessings in different forms with or without a limp. Amen.

Surprised by Death - A Father's Anguish

Surprised by Death

Move on, move on my child is dying! The crowd was huge, each jostling for the best view, like river water bursting at its banks. I see many faces that eventful day. Faces looking for thrills, any will do, faces that looked for excitement, faces that looked for juicier stories to gossip, faces of unbelief, faces beaming with confidence. However, there are also faces which bear years of wrinkles of suffering and hardships, faces that looked for hope that seemed so lost, faces that needed healing, faces that needed an extraordinary touch of something, of anything.

I managed to push myself to the front of the crowd, I thought I had legitimate reasons to do so for my talitha is dying. I had all kinds of favours asked of me in the synagogues, so I figured a big favour now for a great man of God isn’t something too big for him. I overheard them talking that he calmed the storm with words just last night, and they talked also about the Porky Pork Story. It seemed so unbelievably that he had just delivered the Incredible Hulk who terrorized us through the demons. Truthfully, I am at my wits end. He represented my last resort. My daughter is my everything. She reminded me so much of her mother. If anyone can do it, it is this Man.

Move on, move on my child is dying! When they got off the boat, this Jesus gazed at me as if He knew what I was about to ask of him. Just by looking at his eyes, I knew He loved me, He cares for me, cares for my talitha. Strange that such a stranger would exudes eyes of warm and love. I fell at his feet for I thought it makes my request more genuine. I uttered my request as if my life depended on it, and ironically, my child’s life does, that my little girl is dying and for him to come to and put his hands and heal my daughter. I spoke as if I had rehearsed the words for so long. In fact, I had rehearsed it a zillion times on the way from my house to the lake. I was surprised that He just went with me without much fanfare. I was surprised and amazed at his ease of approachability, his caring attitude despite not knowing me. I was surprised to note that a fame healer like him, moved and acted upon my first request for help as if I had the power to pull the strings to move him.

Move on, move on my child is dying! Jewish people are too curious a people. Some followed because they knew this Jesus is heading to my house, the rest followed because the crowd moved, not knowing where they are heading. They wouldn’t have cared a great deal even if we were heading to the toilet. I was quite anxious that the crowd moved too slowly. Suddenly, Jesus stopped as if concerned about something and asked who touched him. Its like going to the temple during the Passover Celebrations and asked who touched you? Of course everyone’s touching him for we are liked a packed of dried anchovies in the food leatherskin. It sounded so silly. One of the disciples, the burly one, spoke as if in a ridiculing tone echoing the same what was on everyone’s mind, “we do not know who touched you...” Despite that, I saw Jesus’ endearing eyes looking out for someone that he was to find. His eyes seeking out… A woman came forward trembling and fell at His feet, sorry for her mistake, to admit her touch…… His touch guarantees healing, however, this time, He was the receiver of a touch.

Move on, move on my child is dying! Good for you, you are healed O nameless, faceless woman, but my child is dying and you are taking precious time away from the healer, from the child who’s only hope of survival is through a miraculous healing. Every moment that ticked away, is a moment closer to imminent death for my child. Hurry up, women! Hurry up, crowd! Hurry up, Jesus! Can’t all these wait till my child is healed. Definitely the woman wouldn’t have bleed to death. She had bled for 12 years, what is another 1 hour more? Jesus is making mountains out of mole hills. However, Jesus appeared to have healed her of her unclean state of bleeding and oblivious to the fact that he was on a 999 emergency trip to save someone seriously ill, as he spoke to the women and assuring her that her faith had healed her and restoring her to our Jewish society. I began to reluctantly understand a bit that Jesus wanted to proclaim to all present that she is no longer ceremonially unclean. Certainly we cannot see her faith but certainly Jesus felt her action of a touch. Perhaps faith without action is dead. Talking about this, do I have this faith? They have always told us to mourn with those who mourn. That was easy. I find it so hard to rejoice with those who rejoice. The last time I was passed as a synagogue leader for another, I certainly didn’t feel happy for the other who was promoted ….

Just then, people ran hysterically to me and half catching their breadth and half spitting out the news that my child had died. It took too long for the healer to get to my sick child. Now, all is vain. If there is life, there is hope. Now, in death all my hopes evaporated. Tears immediately filled my eyes. I wasn’t quite sure the tears were for sadness or in disappointment that the Healer took too long. My heart was overwhelmed with sorrow, my throat dried up. I died a thousand deaths, wished that death would have taken me as well. My little girl, pride of my life, beauty of my soul, joy of my joy, she was just growing into a beautiful young lady, and she even had her mum’s dimples…. Now gone. How can I carry on? How can I live without her? What have I done to deserve this?

Move on, move on, my child is dead! Jesus saw the news had affected me very much and patted me on the shoulder to say, “don’t be afraid, only believe.” He looked at me with the same look that I first saw him near the lake, warm, knowing what he was doing, with immense care. He told me not to be afraid, for I was shaking like a leaf perhaps both due to fear and my sorrow. To ask me not to be afraid is like asking a hungry baby not to cry. When governed by my insecurities, I become emotionally afraid. That is natural. Perhaps it is his way of telling me to exhibit something different, something unexpected even when it is natural to exhibit the expected. Perhaps it is his way of teaching me to trust when its natural to distrust, to believe when the situation gets so unbelievably hopeless. Perhaps it is time to contemplate and witness that there is life even in death. Like the ark in Noah’s time was provided as an escape to all but instead our forefathers chose to treat it as a curse, as a punishment along with the rain and flood. Just as in death in my daughter’s case, will it be used to magnify the glory of the God that this man serves. Death to demonstrate life, what an irony!

I want to believe help my unbelief! He started walking toward our house, each step purposeful, as if some glory is supposed to be revealed. I followed, strutting out each step matching his. My tears have stopped flowing already, replaced with beads of perspiration, replaced with anticipation, replaced with an air of confidence that comes from Him. Are my steps that matched His considered faith to Jesus? Like our patriarch Abraham who was considered faithful when he put him son Isaac on the altar? Could it be?

We approached my house, there were loud wailing, there were so much commotion. Jesus spoke and was audible enough for most to listen despite the background noise. He said “she is not dead, she is sleeping” . Immediately He was greeted with cynical laughter. The kind of laughter that you get when you cannot do a simple arithmetic in front of your unforgiving class. The kind, that implies that you are silly. A withered leaf, is only hibernating? No wonder they laughed so hard. But then I thought they should not laugh so for they too have heard about the tidal waves scene, and the casting of the Porky Chop Joe’s demons. Bleeding Barbara’s case perhaps have not reached their eyes. But I see it happening again. The Great Man of God forbade more being revealed to those who would not believe, who would not soften their hearts, who would not consider to even want to believe. It heard it happened during the healing of the man with the shriveled hand, the casting of the demon, telling of parables instead of plain messages, and the people who witnessed the pigs, and now its happening again. He was constantly bombarded with unbelief. He always appear to stop people from knowing and hearing more for those who have consistently disbelieve and consistently hardened their hearts and understanding of who He might be. He disallowed crowds to follow Him further. He only chose the burly follower of His and 2 others to see my little girl. By now her body had slowly but beginning to turn cold. My precious girl, so full of life, so full of cheer, so full of affection just days before, now lies there very cold, very lifeless, and very dead. Tears filled my eyes once again to see her in this state.

Jesus walked towards my girl and spoke in a tender but authoritative tone, “Talitha koum.” Immediately I saw my girl’s eyes were opened, her eyelids shutter a couple of times in attempt to wet her dry cornea. She folded her arms and rubbed each of the elbows for my guess is that she was feeling cold. She sat up on the edge of the bed and placed her legs on the floor and looked around the room and immediately got up to walk. She appeared to know who had spoken to her. Jesus responded to her by instructing us to give her something to eat and instructed us not to tell anyone.

Its so unbelievable! O this Jesus, the marvelous Son of God. Giver of life, Giver of faith, makes the faithless faithful, fears get cast out in the midst of His voice. O this Jesus, lover of our souls. How can I not believe in the midst of so many proves. Looking back, my turning point of fear, anguish, and hopelessness comes when he spoke to my fears, then comes the choice, I choose to put forward my steps, I choose to believe. Even in death there is hope!