desecrated

On the night of Good Friday, there’s a documentary on TV trying to piece together the 18 years of Jesus’ life that were not documented in the Bible. On Holy Saturday, there’s another documentary discussing about who wrote the Bible. Perhaps I ask myself why I am watching it, but there’s a part of me which realises that I need to in order to understand the desecration before us.

I find myself so emotionally and spiritually drained just hearing people refer to the Bible as a ‘history book’, or Christianity as a ‘religion’ or a ‘cult’. What has been documented in certain books of the Bible match the history books we have, so why do we still doubt its contents if it contains the tangible evidence we search for? They say that Moses could not have written the first five books of the Bible, so the real question is not about who wrote the bible, but who edited it? Edited? The audacity of man astounds me. You can’t edit the Bible like you do a primary school essay. In Matthew 5:18, Jesus himself said, “I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.” Moses may have penned the words, but God was the author. Could Moses have known about the beginning of Creation if God had not spoken to him?

The human nature is that of an argumentative one. We have been at war with God, ourselves and every other thing on earth since the day we were here. Put a group of five men together to write a book and there will be disagreement in no time. But the Bible, though having been ‘written’ by so many people, finds no contradiction in itself. Try finding a human explanation for that.

Jesus may have been tortured by the Roman soldiers, but perhaps the blows that we deal to him today are much worse. I remember the story of a young girl who died at the hands of her persecutors for refusing to spit on the Bible. In a small way, I can understand her pain. Seeing how others try to diminish the glory of God, by containing it in a jar and manufacturing it like a can of baked beans, is like a dagger through the heart, over and over again.

When will the day finally come when we look at our blood-stained hands and realise what we’ve done? It was only after Jesus took his last breath and the earth shook that the Roman soldier finally exclaimed ‘Surely this man was the Son of God!’ I pray that we will not wait until we find ourselves before the judgement seat before we say the same…

gladiator

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38, 39

It's nearly toward the end of Lent and although usually God takes this period to reveal more of who he is to me, things are a little different this time. Rather, I've learnt more of who I am in him. It's not about being narcissistic but rather that, unless I learn how to see myself the way God sees me, I can never work towards what he wants me to become. Ironic but true.

For one thing, I've understood how to give myself wholly to love, no longer fearing that I might get distracted from God or confused between the concepts of human and Godly love. I understand the meaning of 1 John 4:18 - 'perfect love drives out all fear' and I've embraced the promise in Romans 8, that nothing can separate us from the love of God. It's really profoundly simple, but it takes a one-to-one with God to really wrap your head around it.

Recently, I watched a documentary on the gladiators fighting in the Colosseum and it told a story of a slave who became a gladiator. What was so intriguing about this story was that this particular gladiator and his opponent were granted his freedom at the end of the fight, although battles usually ended in death for one of the gladiators. But it brought to my mind, how we too, like slaves were redeemed by Jesus. We were chosen by him to fight the spiritual battles and when like Paul, have 'fought the good fight and finished the race', we gain life and freedom. Although the gladiators fought hard and some died fighting, they were freed from a life of slavery. So perhaps the Christian life isn't quite so different after all, we too were redeemed from a life of slavery, some will live to the end of their days, and some will die for the call.

I don't know where my call leads me, but I once read the beautiful story of a martyr who refused to deny Jesus because he had read the story of Peter's denial, and did not wish to weep bitterly. I have never been imprisoned or tortured, but too often, I have failed to weep as I should. Peter denied our Lord and forsook him when he had promised never to. It's human fear that made Peter deny Jesus and tell him that Jesus couldn't save him and he had to take matters into his own hands. Each time when trials come, and human nature gets in the way, and the panic makes me take things into my own hands, I do exactly what Peter did. It's a subtle denial, but a denial no less. By trying to fix things myself, it's as though I'm denying Jesus, and saying I don't know him, instead of giving him my problems to fix. Looking ahead, may it be that either I should know the bitter tears of denial, or that I should learn to really depend on our Lord.

just how far

“For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” Psalm 103: 11, 12

Those who know me are always puzzled about how I’m always smiling. My aunt always asked me how come I could still smile although people were scolding me. I’ve been scolded in class for smiling before. Today, a patient asked why I kept smiling. I asked her, ‘Would you prefer I frown?’ And she laughed and said ‘No, a smile is good.’ I’ve even known myself to break out into a smile while walking down the street because I brought a happy thought in my mind that tickled me. That may look silly, but not half as silly as if I were burst into tears while walking down the street for no reason.

I did nearly though. While waiting at the bus stop the other day, I played the new Casting Crowns song ‘East to West’ and the lyrics were so heart-wrenching that it nearly broke my heart. Each time I heard the words ‘Cause you know just how far the east is from the west, from one scarred hand to another.’ I’ve never thought about it that way. Recently, I’ve received lots of messages reminding me about my coming back to the cross. Indeed, the cross is meant to be a reminder of my sin, and I need to pick up that cross. So often I leave it at home when I walk out the door in the morning.

Tomorrow is the start of the 40-day fast. Usually I’m filled with such a wave of emotion and excitement. Not this time though. It’s something different. There is a strange quiet and calm within my heart. It’s like the deep breath before the plunge, minus the plunge. I can’t quite describe it. I have to say it bothers me a little because such quiet usually equates to restlessness for me, but all I really fancy is just sitting here quiet in the presence of God. So I’ll just sit here and wait upon the Lord.

Jesus, can you show me just how far the east is from the west,
Cause I can't bear to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of your mercy I find rest
Cause you know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other

- East to West, Casting Crowns

cinderella

It's been such a long time since my last entry and I've been debating whether to continue with writing this year, especially since I've just been too tired to write. This year's Christmas vacation didn't quite seem like Christmas or a vacation and I'm just lost in time. I know it's 2008 but it doesn't feel like a new year at all. I usually enter the new year with such a rush of hope and excitement but this year it's different. I promised myself that I would stop classifying days as 'good' and 'bad' but it's hard. My energy's been down so that's why I'm not quite in a writing mood either. But I realised that I need to continue just because my blog has been a reminder of God's grace to me and if I lose track of that, it'll be harder to find my way back if I get lost.

But I've found enough energy for this next post. Where from? From a little push of love. As I sit here listening to Steven Curtis Chapman's singing 'Cinderella' from his new album, I remember the little incident which happened a few days ago. This trip back to Dundee was quite an ordeal for me. I was terribly ill on the plane and spent about 4 hours lying on the floor of the plane, just outside the toilet. I was well enough to leave the plane on my own eventually but it was definitely a difficult experience. As I got out of the airport and sat on the bus, I thought to myself, I wish I had someone there with me, not for company really, but just to say a silent prayer for me. In any case, I was fine now and didn't give much thought to it.

Anyway, being out of the plane, I turned on my phone and found a few missed calls from my daddy. I wasn't sure why especially since he knew I was going to be on the plane but later he told me that he had felt such a burden to stop and pray for me. This is what the song 'Cinderella' reminded me of, how special fathers are. How my heavenly Father used my earthly father to intercede for me, even if we were thousands of miles apart. It is amazing how far love goes.

"So I will dance with Cinderella
While she is here in my arms
'Cause I know something the prince never knew
Oh I will dance with Cinderella
I don't want to miss even one song
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
And she'll be gone"

No matter how far I go, I know Cinderella will always be daddy's girl.

rebuilding the broken

Ever get the feeling that you're not as resilient as you thought you were? Well, I did. I thought I could push on easily with my life as I always do and not let emotions get in the way. But all you need is one little crack in the wall for the dam to burst. Yesterday was my 22nd birthday and to be honest, I thought that it didn't really bother me anymore that I was all alone in Stirling, away from my friends. What's one birthday and really, you just have to get on with your life don't you?

I started the day in theatre and although it wasn't an eventful day, it wasn't bad. As long as I didn't try to remember that it was my birthday, things were fine. But the day before, I read my sister's blog and seeing pictures of my family in Disneyland without me made me miss them more, naturally compounded by the fact that I was all alone in Stirling. Then of course, by the afternoon, I'd got texts from people saying 'Happy Birthday'. I loved it of course but then it makes it harder to forget. With little persuasion, I bolted back to Dundee for the night and went for dinner with Janet. And I had such a great time because she put so much effort in trying to make me smile after that dismal day. When I returned home, I found letters in my mailbox from my family in the Philippines and tears just flooded my eyes. I was so touched by all the warm greetings I'd received from so far away.

Maybe a birthday is just a birthday after all, but it's the people that I have been blessed with that make it special. It's not about the parties, the cake or the presents, it's about having even just one person who would do anything to make you smile. Guess I'm not as much of a loner as I'd thought, but the love I have been given has built me up and I'm stronger than I was now.

the ties that bind...

So I came to the conclusion quite a few months ago that the year 2007 had been such an amazing year that I was ready to start the next year. What I had realised was that the complacency of such a thought would be my downfall. God was bringing me through each day and I never quite realised the power of subconscious thought. I never realised that slowly the passion that I had had just a few months ago was but a glowing ember. I was fading out so slowly that I never quite knew it. I had taken the backseat just because the ride had been so excellent and at the back of my mind, I was going to kick in towards the end of the year and plan for 2008.

Then what comes of the few months in between? They obviously don’t go away and when it comes to a stage like this that we don’t realise, you lose precious time for God and with him as well. I guess the realisation came when all I wanted to do was go to bed at the end of a hectic day, instead of spending time meditating in God’s presence. For a few weeks, there had been things brewing in my mind that I just couldn’t put down, like projects, meetings and all the whatnots along the way. I needed a timeout and my time away in Stirling would probably give me that. Unfortunately, my first week was an absolute shambles and I was close to tears because of the atrocious week I’d had.

That weekend my friends and I were going to the Delirious concert and was probably the thing I needed to perk me up again. I enjoyed myself immensely but what I also was a singer just trying to communicate God’s message to the people, but what he had were crowds cheering and screaming for him while reading Isaiah 61. It made me think of Acts 14, when Paul and Barnabas were hailed as gods and although people heard them, they weren’t really listening. How easily the mind gets caught up in these delusions and we hardly notice it. We follow the messenger and not the one who sent it. After thousands of years, man is still man.

But that was what I needed to see, these fetters that have got us tied to this world. I needed to break these ties that bind. That’s why I had such a bad week, I relied so much on my own strength and I’d forgotten to call on the one person who did have the strength I needed. I’d asked God to give me a good day but then start out with trepidation. Obviously there was faith lacking there. Finally, when I got down on my knees and let go of everything, I could see God working. I had an amazing week in Stirling and things couldn’t have gone more smoothly with all the projects and everything I had to do.

To be honest, God makes me laugh with the way he’s done everything. I may not always understand it, but he really does have a great sense of humour.

More than a memory

Remember..

The global day of prayer has been an event highlighted in the past few years, where countries unite in prayer – praying for countries, world leaders, churches, organisations, families and the heart of every individual to beat in sync with the love of Christ.

Yet many of us forget one important part of the church, so rightly named the Underground Church. I’m sure many of you recall how Paul and Silas caused an earthquake with their worship. It started within the prison walls. The fire of the Holy Spirit may have been toned down to a minimum in our churches of today, but the Holy Spirit is still very much alive in the underground church, fuelled by the passion of the Christians who have dared their all for Christ. Revival seems like an everyday occurrence in the underground church.

But surely the movement of the Holy Spirit can’t be caged by prison walls. Well, it’s not. But we’ve got the Holy Spirit on thermostat. We’ll turn the heat up when we’re feeling cold, and down when we’re feeling too warm. Unless we learn to move with the Spirit, we won’t see revival. There are reports of revival coming from all over the world – Brazil, Nepal, Mexico, Mongolia, Kenya, South Korea. But the only way we can bring revival to the place we are in is through prayer.

So where do we go from here? We were created to worship God, with every fibre of our being. Not just in song but in spirit and in truth. We need to worship him for the wonder that he is, and we just need to get down on our knees and pray. Prayer moves mountains, so if more of us start praying, then we’re going to be moving many more mountains.

In Hebrews 13:3, Paul writes “Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.” Paul asks that we join them in their chains – the chain of prayer. Don’t break this chain. Don’t keep looking inwards, look at the needs of others and remember the persecuted.

Many of those who are persecuted have not seen daylight for years, some have waited 20 years to own a bible and many still waiting, and even more leave behind families in need. Their freedom has been taken from them, their property, their families, but no one can take their faith from them. Every year, more and more Christians are being martyred for their faith, for their apostolic passion. The time of persecution is not coming to an end, it is barely beginning.

November 11 2007 is the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. For many, it’s a day to remember those fallen in the Great War. But this year, there’s another reason to remember November 11. Remember this day and stand together with our brothers and sisters. When you pray with passion, the Holy Spirit will give you the same passion that is alive in the underground church. You already have the fire within you, just don’t keep it to yourself. Don’t forget, Jesus himself said ‘No one lights a lamp and hides it in a jar or puts it under a bed. Instead, he puts it on a stand, so that those who come in can see the light.’

Just let the Holy Spirit guide you as you pray and remember Ezekiel 47:12 –

“Fruit trees of all kinds will grow on both banks of the river. Their leaves will not wither, nor will their fruit fail. Every month they will bear, because the water from the sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will serve for food and their leaves for healing."

And so may it be for us too, that our leaves never wither, nor our fruit fail.