READY When I was a Child
My Ah Kong and I Khoo Teng Cheong
Journey from Fear Tan Chuan Jin
Not So Little Women Loh Xinling
Editor Jimmy Tan Editorial Team Diana Chin, Matthias Ong, Loh Xin Ling, Lim Seow Cheng Design and Layout Abigail Ng Printer Regent Printing (S) Pte Ltd Cover Photo Jonathan Cheah
Views expressed in published articles are those of the individual writers and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Team or the Church Council. Your contributions to READY are welcome and should be submitted to editor@bfec. org.sg. The Editor reserves the right to accept, reject or edit any articles submitted for publication. We make no claim of ownership over any images, trademarks, designs, logos, campaigns and other copyrighted materials not originally created by us. They are shown on this publication under the doctrine of fair use and belong to the entities that own them.
Photo by Jonathan Cheah
Photo by Diana Chin
CONTENTS READY NO.6
2
Foreword When I was a Child
4
Papa’s Book
6
Sewing Hands. Praying Knees.
8
The Black Box
10
Hearing the Song
14
Alone. Yet Not Alone.
16
My Ah Kong and I
18
The Group
20
Not so Little Women
22
Journey from Fear
24
When He was a Child
WHEN I WAS A CHILD
By Jimmy Tan
FOREWORD
Then came the fatal blow, “I see that your head-toheight ratio is about 1/6,” he smirked. Well that was almost 4 decades ago. And some of us think only youth today have it bad with body image consciousness. (Till today, peers like Malcolm Ong say it’s little wonder I’m always a “Tua Tow”, literally “big head” in Hokkien; figuratively “big boss”).
“Your head very big, ah!” I turned around. It was Mr. Tay Cheng Kee, the Superintendent of the Senior Sunday School (our youth ministry then). Without missing a beat, he grasped and wrapped my head with both his hands, to see if he could somehow contain it. Well, he tried, he said.
I’ve long since come to realize that God had made me (and all of us, actually) exactly the way He wanted me. It was not just unwise to compare but also unnecessary. He knew better. And He makes no accidents.
I was 15 and I recall being half embarrassed, half indignant. He had done this in full view of other students. A bus load of us were on our way to Port Dickson
What’s your childhood memory? In this issue, the team decided to ask some Frankelites and guest writers to simply complete the sentence, “When I was a child...”
“Really? Is my head that big?” I wondered. When I went home, I checked in at the mirror. Then I asked my mum if it was true. Mum smiled in affirmation yet kept a straight face. She reluctantly added that when I was a toddler she did try to “rub” my head down with her hands, perhaps like how someone would try to reduce a swelling.
In this time of year when we often make plans for the new year, I hope you will really manage a breather. The reflective kind. Savor these varied reflections (written by Frankelites and guest writers), and recall your own childhood. And give thanks. But more importantly, give it all to Him.
Errm… why was I not at all comforted? It didn’t help that my brother chimed in, “According to studies (he didn’t say which), a guy’s head is supposed to be only 1/7 of his height.”
Are you ready?
Jimmy (extreme left) with Mum, Dad and brother, Dennis; and with wife, Monika.
2
PAPA’S BOOK
By Tan Fang Fang
I learned to read much later than most children. But when I finally did, I read voraciously, as if to catch up for lost time and books. It was during this time that I developed the notion that I desperately needed a grown up Bible of my own. Just before my eighth birthday I asked my late Papa if he would give me one. Papa said he’d love to, on the condition I memorize Psalm 23 and tell him what I understood of the Psalm. And so for what seemed like a very, very long time (for a 7 year old), I worked at learning the King James’ Version of Psalm 23.
thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” Then I too, could learn to fear nothing and want for nothing with God as my shepherd. Over the years, Papa would continue to help me learn how to be satisfied in God. Sometimes he did this through his conversations, just like the conversation we’d had about Psalm 23. But mostly Papa taught me through the way he lived. His simple, unostentatious life. His need to be filled and guided in God’s Word. Even in his dying, when good health had been taken from him, God continued to be his all-satisfying treasure. Those are things I learned without knowing I was learning them!
When I eventually “explained” to my father what the Psalm meant, I told Papa it was foolish of the psalmist to say, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want”. For, why would anyone not “want” God to be his shepherd? Ever the teacher, Papa patiently taught me that with God as the psalmist’s shepherd, he was thoroughly satisfied. That is, he wanted for nothing. Papa told me that I too, could pray Psalm 23. Since I was still afraid of being alone in the dark, Papa said I should pray out verse 4, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil: for
What a gift God gave me when he gifted me with godly parents who love Him and brought me up to do the same! I used to be embarrassed that I had no dramatic story to tell about my conversion. Nothing harrowing. Nothing tragic. But a life long journey discovering that I want for nothing when God truly is my shepherd.
Fang Fang at home with Dad and Mum and on the field.
4
Sewing hands. Praying Knees.
By Irene Wee
When I was a child, we neither had the “best” house in the kampong nor lots of money, but one thing I felt I had was the best Mother. On reflection, that made me the “richest” child in my kampong.
One of my mother’s answered prayers which brought her much joy was seeing me successfully complete my tertiary education, and, later, serve as Principal of Bethesda Katong Kindergarden. But even if that had not materialised, she has already taught me the best lesson, a lesson that served me well all of my working life - to always take time to pray and to seek the Lord. God knows the countless times He’s come to my rescue as I committed challenging as well as routine situations to him.
My mother was God’s beautiful gift to me. Like many others, she struggled through life to supplement our family’s daily necessities by sheer hard and diligent work. I recall her labouring at the sewing machine, the fascinating sound of needle and thread piecing together fabric and the rhythmic whirring of mechanical parts as feet on paddle dictated the pace. She was certainly good at it for she worked long hours just to complete her many customers’ orders.
God blessed mum with strength but also wisdom and grace which she imparted to her children. She was sensitive to my unuttered worries and confusions ---- she saw and understood my innermost feelings and needs. I miss her even as I write this.
Not once did I hear her complain. Though she toiled, she never saw her labour of love as sacrifice. From mum, I caught what it meant to be hardworking during my young working years for I had seen first-hand the truth of Proverbs 13:4 - “a sluggard’s appetite is never filled, but the desires of the diligent are fully satisfied.”
There will never be enough words to say how precious, loving and important my Mother was to me. She has more than earned her rest in God’s eternal home where I know we will be wonderfully reunited one day. Thank you, Mum. To God Be The Glory
I have never heard mum say to any of her children, “I love you”, or felt her hugs and kisses. Yet in her quiet but determined ways, I deeply experienced the unconditional love of God. True love (God’s love) was --- “not by what we say but what we do” (1 John 3:18). There is another vivid memory that remains etched to this day. Early each morning, before her day began, mum would kneel or sit in prayer to speak with her Heavenly Father. She often lingered there. I later realised why, for to her, one’s attitude was to be, first and foremost, “not my will be done but Yours be done”.
Ms Irene Wee (extreme left) with her siblings and with mum.
6
THE BL ACK BOX
By Bryan Ng
I have loved sports for as long as I can remember. It was the highlight of school. When I was in Primary 2, I was so looking forward to Sports Day. Two days before that, I came home after school, as usual, on the school bus.
While I never doubted God’s existence, I was only a fan of Christ, and not a true follower. I lived my life on my own terms, and came to God only when I needed help. I admired Jesus from afar. But wouldn’t let Him near. He was, at best, my “lucky charm”. But luck, as you know, sooner or later, runs out.
As soon as I alighted, I sensed something was wrong. I froze and just couldn’t move another step. There in the front porch of our house was a black coffin!
During our church’s “Not A Fan” series a few years back, my heart and eyes were opened to the truth I had avoided all along. The inconvenient truth was that I needed to become a follower of Christ. There were no short cuts in this game of life. Yet it would be His grace that propelled me and not my own strength. I became convicted I needed to deny or “die to myself ” and take up my cross and follow Him (Luke 9:23). It wasn’t easy, but my life and outlook has been transformed. And my life began to become more meaningful as I discovered God’s purposes for me. I am truly thankful and blessed to be loved by our Sovereign and Awesome Father!
“Was this my house? Did the driver drop me off somewhere else by mistake?” I got my answer when mum came out to get me, her eyes still wet from grief. “Ye Ye (my dad’s father) has passed away”, she whispered and hugged me close, seeing my shock.
It didn’t matter there was a cross on the coffin. It was the first time I had encountered death, as it were, right in my face. I couldn’t move but only think, In life as in sports, I am constantly striving to stay “You mean my beloved grandpa is in that black box?” focused. But now I fix my eyes on Jesus. In doing so, I also seek to be a blessing and good influence While my parents were pre-believers, my paternal to others; those around me on the rugby pitch or at grandparents were staunch Christians. They dedicated ACS Barker Road where I teach sports. me to God when I was born. And took my siblings and me to church with them each week. They taught John Ortberg, a Christian author, once wrote a us about Jesus and told us many Bible stories. book entitled, “When the Game is over, it All Goes Back in the Box.” Now that the black box holds a The black box that morning brought home the very precious meaning to me, I pray I will be able reality of eternity to me. Through the Bible stories, to truly live out my life and demonstrate to those I Ye Ye had earlier told me that because Jesus died, come into contact with God’s love and truth. we who believe in Him would live. So one could not experience true life without first also experiencing true death. Little did I know that many years would pass before I understood what that really meant.
Bryan, carrying his god-sister, with his siblings, then and recently.
8
Hearing the Song
Take me, Mold me, Use me, Fill me I give my life to the Potter’s hands
Hold me, Guide me, Lead me, Walk beside me I give my life to the Potter’s hand
By Olivia Ong
I continued letting out my emotions on Him, then I would resume my daily routine again. I didn’t understand that Christianity was all about building a relationship with God. Throughout the years, whenever I hit rock-bottom and felt like I had no strength to carry on, God would gently call out to my spirit. Like how a song would touch your heart, I started responding to God. I realised I couldn’t continue with my childish ways anymore. His love has touched me so deeply that it overwhelmed me.
You could call it a child-like faith. At the age of 9, when I first heard the story of how and why Jesus Christ died for my sins, I was very moved and in awe of such great love that I accepted Christ. I don’t recall questioning if God was real or not – I just accepted that God existed. As a young kid, I would turn to God during my “bad” times with dramatic outbursts or silent cries. I just assumed He was right there beside me. Somehow, I trusted that God was present and listening to me. There was always this tangible sense of comfort as if a pair of loving arms was embracing me.
God has always been with me throughout my formative years. He has never left me all this while even when I strayed many times. I believe that kept me hopeful for the future. The faithfulness and love that God has shown me in many ways reminded me that he is, indeed, my shield. Because He first loved me, I love him. And His love compels me to seek Him and to desire to know him more. That marked the start of how I learned to build a relationship with God. I’m still a “work in progress” but this love, I will always cling on to.
When I was 11, I heard the song The Potter’s Hand (by Darlene Zschech) for the first time and remember crying my eyes out. The lyrics touched the deepest recesses of my heart - a piece that gently calls out to me when I am feeling downcast or crestfallen. I’d say it’s my life’s song. God always gave me his time and love. Trapped in the daily routine of school, homework and activities with friends, I never gave Him much time.
Olivia, then and now, is a Singaporean singer and actress
10
WHEN I WAS A CHILD
STILL A CHILD OF GOD
We thank each of these children for sharing their photos. They are, from left to right, down the rows: Chua Chuey Hoon, James Sim, Francis Soh, Corinne Lo, Vincent Lim, Tony Soh, Sharon Ngoo, Kiang Tzy Peng, Priscilla Chang, Melville Szto, Shirely Soo, John Teo, Salome Szto, Alex Lo, Hwang Ching Yun, Aaron Soo, Kuah Leck Ping, Nick Chung, Seow Cheng, Ng Geok Chye, Florence Lee, Danny Chua, Hui Ing, Patrick Lee, Goh Lee Chuan and Goh Lee Tee.
ALONE
YET NOT ALONE
By Diana Chin
Alone, yet not alone. A little known film, song title. A controversy – song withdrawn from top-notch award nominations. A phrase for reflection. Of comfort. As truth.
moments. Blessed to be savouring this “O, wow, dear God” experience. The course mate then asked – were you alone? No matter. I was engaged, mesmerised, thankful. Savouring the sights, sounds, sensations of God’s doing. Not bothered that I was by myself, physically.
During a certain period of my childhood, I was often on my own. Being brought up quietly. Not much conversation nor socialisation. Little peer company and interaction. Mother worked at a dispensary. I was brought to her workplace. With my toys, playthings, books. While she worked, I spent the day playing on my own. In quiet, engaged and occupied. Not perturbed that I was alone. I rather enjoyed it. (The smell of disinfectants and antiseptics I had to get used to though.)
I am grateful that that part of my childhood “trained” me to be at ease when physically alone. I am grateful that I enjoy solitude, solitary moments. Alone times are also good for rest and refreshment – to be still, and know God (Psalm 46:10). And I also enjoy company. Refreshment, reflection and receiving God’s Word also come from being in community. I am thankful that I am comfortable with being alone and also being with people, engaging with them.
Mother was mindful of me. She would pop by to check on me every now and then. She would spend break and lunch times with me. Her colleagues would befriend me too. I don’t think I lacked anything. I was well provided for. I felt safe. The room was large and cool. Comfort and quiet, safety and nourishment. No complaints from me. I was pretty contented. (Having gotten used to the olfactory overdose.)
This is a balance in my life and leadership journey. It’s OK that I do feel that I am all on my own at times. Yet I know well I am not cast on my own. There are people, with me, for me. God brings people to be with me, for me. God is with me, for me. Acknowledging all that sovereign God has wrought in me, how I am wonderfully made, how my life and leadership journey has been lovingly orchestrated - “You establish peace for us; all that we have accomplished You have done for us.” Isaiah 26:12
Circa a recent training course. We were instructed to describe to a course mate a moment with rich sensory input. Wild waves. Rugged rock. Charming, cliff-hugging cottages. Colourful hydrangea. Crisp salty air. Soft evening light. Picturesque, photo
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My Ah Kong and I
By Khoo Teng Cheong
I attended Bethesda (Katong) Kindergarten in Frankel Estate in the late 1960’s. While that was a long time ago, there were a few incidents and influences during my time there that are forever etched in my brain and heart. One particular incident was when I took part in an end-of-year concert dressed as an elephant (see photo) - I fell off the stage and caused much merriment amongst the crowd. The other was a daily duty where I had to collect the Singapore flag from the Principal’s office every morning for flag raising. It was not the collecting of the flag which was memorable, but more that my favourite Aunty, Ms Tan Suan Lui, was the Principal of the kindergarten at that time, and that she used to greet me with a big hug and kiss every morning whenever I collected the flag.
distinctive traits which I loved so much about my “Ah Kong”. First, he was almost always in a white suit when we went to church at Bethesda Katong every Sunday. Second, his great love for reading which he passed on to my father, Dr Khoo Boo Chai, and directly to me by giving me a book for every occasion, like for my birthdays and Christmas (mostly Christian and scientific books and National Geographic). Third, his stories about his service in BKC, about how good and faithful the Lord had always been to the church and to us as a family, and his deep rumbling laugh whenever he recounted some funny experiences about life in the church. I now serve as Chairman of the Council of BKC. Who would have known that all those years ago, through my upbringing in my formative years in Bethesda (Katong) Kindergarten, and the enduring memory of my grandfather and his love and faithful service to the Lord and His church, that I would be called to this same great privilege and joy as he had to shepherd the members in our beloved BKC. My life stands as a testimony to the truth of Ephesians 2:10, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” To this end, I am grateful for the example of “Ah Kong” and the people and circumstances He has put in my life to shape and guide me to this present opportunity to serve. Indeed, my family and I bear witness to the enduring grace of God as captured in our family verse, Psalm 100:5: “For the Lord is good, his love endures forever, and his faithfulness continues through all generations.” Amen!
But the one most enduring and precious memory I have from my time in the kindergarten were on the days when my grandparents, Dr and Mrs Khoo Peng Seng, made surprise visits to the kindergarten, and came to see me in the end-of-year concerts. In fact, in that “elephant” incident, it was my grandfather who managed to comfort me when he wrapped me in his warm and loving arms and told me, “It’s going to be alright, the Lord will make it better.” My grandfather was the Chairman of the Council of Bethesda Katong Church (BKC) when they started Bethesda (Katong) Kindergarten and asked my Aunty to become its first principal in the 1950’s. This kindergarten initiative, by the grace of God, evolved into what is now Bethesda Frankel Estate Church. Growing up as a child, I remember the few
Teng Cheong is at the second from the right.
16
The Group
By Dorea Quek-Cho and Jonathan Cho
Dorea: When I was a child, the expression “Thank God It’s Friday” or (TGIF) took on special meaning. Almost without fail, every Friday night, my parents’ cell group would gather at my house and all their children would come along. Although those gatherings took on a greater significance for them, to us kids, it was really just one great party every single week. We would tear through the house with our playful shrieks only to get hushed by the adults who would pop in every now and then to tell us to quieten down because they were praying. After each meeting, I would observe how they shared food and stories, pondering over why they would commit to doing this week after week, sometimes even more than once. As I look back, what struck me the most was the consistency and faithfulness of their meetings. These uncles and aunties were more than just ‘friends from church’ - they were family. Years later, I find myself in a group of my own, with food and stories of our own to share. The only difference now is that I’m helping to hush the playful shrieks around the home. I never knew this then, but my childhood experience of seeing my parents’ cell group meet weekly has informed my own knowledge and idea of what a cell group should be and how essential it is to my life - our lives. Jonathan: As I listen to Dorea share, I too, cannot help but express how grateful we are for the opportunity to “do life’’ together with our cell group, our village - the community who rallies around us to celebrate our joys and pray for us when we’re worried and afraid. If not for the fact that little Dorea was brought along to and allowed to be part of all her parents’ cell gatherings, she might have never been able to fully appreciate the deep joys of being part of such a group. We can only pray now, that we too will do the same, so that our (future) children will see how the ‘uncles and aunties’ in their parents’ village are really more than just friends - they’re family.
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NOT SO LITTLE WOMEN
By Loh Xinling
I know as my grandmother is just a glimpse of the mother she was to my father and uncle growing up.
When I was eight, my mum at thirty-eight had been a “Stay-At-Home-Mother” for about five years. Growing up, my mother brought me everywhere with her, be it shopping, gatherings with her siblings/ friends, or bible study sessions with her women’s group. It must have been more convenient for her to leave me with the helper but I doubt that was even an option to her. She was also in charge of my schedule ensuring that I had varied opportunities as an eight year old at piano, speech and drama, and swimming. Much of her time with me was also spent sitting – sitting with me as I procrastinated over my schoolwork, sitting in the car driving or waiting for me, or sitting with me as I got over my nightmares.
Today, slightly less than three decades later, it is poignant to see my sister at thirty-eight be a mother to her three precocious young sons, no less than who our mother or grandmother are. Over these decades, I have also been blessed to be a continual witness and recipient of my mother and grandmother’s unwavering commitment, dedication and sacrifice to the family, albeit lived out in different ways as the family unit evolves and age comes upon us. However, the thread that ties them together is not simply the exceptional role they play as mothers over three generations but the person of Jesus that they reflect as mothers as their faith in Jesus grows. Over the decades, I see more and more how the burdens and hope they carry for their children are brought to Jesus, the assurance and comfort they offer to their children are not solutions but Jesus, the forgiveness of sin for the wrong word or act is not sought in each other but found in Jesus’ death on the cross and the confidence they offer is not them as mothers but in their identity in Christ.
She was not the only “mother” whom I witnessed in action. At eight, my sixty-eight year old grandmother was still her fiery and commanding self though she had relinquished the running of our household to my mother. My grandmother would come for her weekly visits, bringing sugary, deep fried snacks whilst lecturing us not to take food that was too “cooling” or “heaty”. She would examine the clothes hung out to dry on bamboo sticks and rearrange them if how they were hung did not meet her exacting standards as a former laundry woman. She would busy herself in the kitchen, dictating whether the chicken should be steamed or boiled or giving her opinion on whether the marinate had enough salt. From the stories I’ve been told, who
This Christmas, as we celebrate the gift of Jesus, I will also celebrate the marvelous work He has done in our lives over three generations.
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JOURNEY FROM FEAR
By Tan Chuan-Jin
When I was a child, I remember being periodically gripped by fear and uncertainty about what death meant. Was I going to disappear? Would I be hovering around somewhere observing the world? Would I become someone else? I believe this experience isn’t unusual amongst many of us when we grow up and when we begin to grasp the concept of life and death. I suspect that many of us continue to struggle with this even into adulthood!
schooling as I attended mission schools. I don’t think death became less fearful but there was now a framework to help me understand and to reflect. In many ways, I believe that this is God’s way of reaching out and helping me on my own journey to accepting Christ. While it is a difficult topic, children do struggle with the concept of death and it would be important that we talk to our children about it and to help them make sense of it. Without Christ and salvation, it would seem bleak and scary. But as is written in John 3:16,
This is perhaps the start of the journey to begin understanding our place in the world. Where did we come from? What is our purpose? Is there a creator? I didn’t grow up in a Christian environment and my initial grappling with the issues were quite disconcerting and aimless. My awareness of Christ and salvation only began in Kindergarten and formal
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
Minister Tan Chuan-Jin sitting (centre of picture) on his uncle’s lap.
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WHEN HE WAS A CHILD
By Daryl Liu
Growing up, I’ve come to understand that many people think religion is good because it makes people behave morally and gets people to do good deeds. Understandably, Christianity can also be viewed that way due to the many nice Christians around. However, that is not what Christianity is about. The central key figure, the centre of what Christianity is about is this one man called Jesus Christ. “Christian” by definition, means a follower of Christ. And Christmas, amongst all the celebrations, presents and mythical stories about Santa, is centrally a celebration of the arrival of this one man Jesus Christ more than 2000 years ago. But what’s the big deal about this one guy? There have been many great religious men and great martyrs who have come and gone. Why is Jesus still the most controversial or celebrated one of them all?
I would liken it to an analogy, which had impacted me many years ago. Imagine you and 20 other people were born in a room. The room had no doors and no windows but you had enough in the room to live and interact comfortably. Over time, many questions would come to these people, “How did we get here? What are we here for? Is there anything outside this room? If there is, what would it be like? How does that affect what we do here?” Among the 20 people, you would find some who would say that there is nothing outside the room, and some who theorize that there must be something beyond the room. However, no one person would be able to lay claim to the truth as everyone is just as clueless as anyone else. However, one day, a secret door opens from the outside and a man steps into the room and closes the secret door. He begins to talk about the world outside and how it functions. Some of the people would believe him, seeing how he came from outside the room; some of the people would suspect that he might be lying about the outside world, and some would deny that he even came from outside of the room. There would also be some people who added their own meaning to his words or misunderstood what he said due to their previous beliefs. He claimed that if they heeded his words well, that they would be able to find their way outside the room. Then after a brief period of time, one day, he disappeared. Naturally, many of his words and actions were recorded down on paper for other people to read or remember them. Some people continued on with their lives thinking their own ideas about whether there was a world beyond the room or not and how it worked, but for some, their perspectives were completely changed as they now believed the words of this man and trusted fully that there was a world
In the New Testament, Luke Chapter 19 records a historical incident of Jesus Christ visiting the home of a rich man named Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was known by many to have gotten his wealth through unethical means. However, the occasion with Jesus changed his life and he gave half of his wealth to the needy and repaid those whom he had cheated four times over the amount he cheated them of. His interaction with Jesus turned his life around immediately. Many Christians today would be able to tell you similarly that their lives had also changed after they had recognized who Jesus is. Jesus Christ is recognized by many as the earthly human man whom the one creator God had come down from heaven as. After that recognition, these people started paying attention to Jesus’ words and their perspective in life also completely changed.
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outside the room and that listening to the man’s words would be the key to take them there. In many ways, that is how the story of Jesus Christ should be understood. Luke records at the end of the incident between Jesus and Zacchaeus that Jesus tells the people around him that he is here to seek and save the lost. Why did Jesus claim to come down from heaven to earth 2000 years ago to be born as a man, learn to interact with us and perform incredible miracles? His mission was to tell those who are seeking the truth about this world, their purpose. No one else can lay claim to the truth but him, because only he came from heaven to earth, and only he can show the way. The story of Jesus and Zacchaeus is not to tell us that giving to the needy and repaying those whom
we have wronged is good for us. But it’s there to tell us that listening to Jesus’ words will reveal a new perspective on life, the world and creation itself. Today, we have, in the New Testament, the words of Jesus recorded by some people who interacted with him when he came to Earth. Many have challenged the authenticity of these recordings but they have stood the test of scrutiny and time. We can be sure that the recordings, Jesus’s words are for us to access and assess. Whether we want to trust his words or not is our choice, but if Jesus Christ is truly the man from outside of the room, then there is sufficient reason for us to not ignore him, but rather at least to find out what he has said to us. And that, I believe, is a good place to start.
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READY N0.6 December 2016 A publication of Bethesda Frankel Estate Church | MCI (P) 046/01/2016