Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Short Story: The Uneducated Pastor Soh

Ah Soh knew in his heart that his birthday was important. He would be 50 years old. His friend came into his tiny one room flat. Ah Soh was not the kind of person to host a party. He did not have the money!

For him, whatever little money he earned as a coffee shop assistant was just enough to make end meets. On some of the occassions, he could not even meet his end meets. On such occassions, he needed to seek financial and material help from his church. Fortunately for him, his church members were still quite ready to help Ah Soh tide through his difficult moments.

Ah Soh wanted to be a pastor. He wanted to preach for Jesus so much, so much. But he was not born during biblical times. In those days, anyone could be a pastor. Peter and most of Jesus' disciples were uneducated people!

In Singapore, a person needed to attend a bible college to be able to preach, officially. Ah Soh could not be a pastor. He was not smart in his studies. He failed his PSLE. Going to a bible college was an impossible dream for him.

Still, Ah Soh wanted to tell his friends about Jesus. All his uneducated friends. All of them who spoke Hokkien like him. All of them who could not speak proper english. So he saved up his money, little by little. He cut down on his food. He wore the same clothe, year after year, without buying new ones. He walked to his church instead of taking buses. He tried his best to cut down on his transport cost.

Finally, he had just enough money to host a birthday party. And that was what he did.

"Ah Soh, happy birthday!" His friends greeted him one by one. When all of his friends were in his house and they were done with eating, Ah Soh got them to sit in a circle. He spoke about Jesus passionately to his friends. He spoke on and on, ignoring the occassional mockeries that came from his unbelieving friends.

His friends left his home, seemingly unchanged and unmoved. But in Jesus' eyes, unknowingly to Ah Soh or the church in Singapore, Jesus saw a pastor. This pastor was uneducated. This pastor could only speak in Hokkien. This pastor did not win a single soul. This pastor preached only 1 sermon during his entire life for Jesus.

Still, in Jesus' eyes, he saw and smiled at pastor Soh.

Short Story: The Sri Lankan Maid

The sun blazes in the sky, the wind hardly blows. I walk on my way, as usual to the church that is my second home. It is just like all the other ordinary Sundays in my life—when I am too busy with my life to notice others—when I accidently slip and fall to the ground in my carelessness.

She, with sweat dripping down her head, comes to help me up. She is not the kind of person I will usually notice.

“Madam, are you all right?” she speaks in an accent I am not use to hearing.

“Thanks,” I mutter as I manage to get onto my feet with some help for her. I cast a look at her. She has been around for quite awhile, but this is the first time I really look at her. She is dressed in simple clothing, her skin complexion is dark. I conclude in my mind that she must be a Sri Lankan.

“You are?” I ask, as a form of politeness, with no real interest in getting to know her as a person.

“Christine,” she replies.

“Christine?” I am slightly surprised. That is not a common Sri Lankan name.

“Yes,” she replies. Seeing that I am puzzled by the rareness in her name, she quickly replies, “I am a Christian.” There is a sense of sorrow in her eyes. Why?

I am a bit ashamed of myself for not noticing her as a human being until today. I am reminded of a verse in James from the bible where it mentions something about how God chooses the poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom of God. If my savior judges no man but gives everyone the same chance to enter into His kingdom of bliss irregardless of his or her social status, who am I to judge the woman that stands before me?

“You will be late if you don’t go in,” this sister in Christ of mine, Christine, utters, nodding her head towards the church.

“And you?” I ask, concerned for the first time in my life for this person before me.

“I can’t go in,” she smiles, sadly. She turns her head to a little child, who is playing happily in the compartment of the church’s playground. There are other children playing with her in the compartment. I understand.

“Do you think He will forgive me?” Christine asks, with that same sad look in her eyes, again.

I look at her, not fully comprehending what she means by her words.

“Jesus,” Christine begins. “Do you think Jesus forgive me? I had not attended church for quite awhile.” She bows her head. I can see her sorrow, her guilt. I can see her love for the Son who had died for her. I feel ashamed of myself for skipping church for the slightest reason, when there is a woman here who is guilt-ridden for not being able to attend church for a long period of time.

“My father… he is ill… my children… they need to go to school. My husband divorces me… I really need the money… I… I…”

I cut her off, before she can continue.

“Jesus understands,” I reply, the first words I have spoken to her in love. I want to speak more, but the little child runs to her, and her attention is shifted back to her charge.

I go into the church and I sit down. I look at the rows of sinners who are rich in this material world. Somewhere, sitting in this church, among the rows of sinners, is the person who is the master or mistress of the Sri Lankan maid I meet outside the church.

And suddenly, I wonder in the midst of worship, where Jesus is, right now.

I think of all of us with our big homes and big cars, and who attend church regularly. And I think of Christine who is forced to leave her home to support her impoverish family to work as a maid and in spite of not attending church, retains her simple faith and love for Jesus. And I have an answer.

If Jesus is here today, He will not be with us, the 99 sheep that are safe in His hands but He will be out there with His one lost child who is kept away from His fellowship by her need to provide for her starving family back home. For Jesus comes not to be served, but to serve.

2000 years ago, He chooses not to sit in the seat with the rich Pharisees, but He takes His stand among the poor and despised in society, fishermen like Peter, James and John, prostitutes, tax-collectors, people no one like or notice, the poor. What He does 2000 years ago, He will do again, because Jesus never changes.

Christine may not be able to attend a church, but she is richer than many of us, because I believe Jesus is standing there in the hot sun with her, wiping away her tears, as she looks longingly at the church she is prevented by circumstances from being able to attend. And I believe even as she cries, He cries. Even as she is pained, He is pained. And He cries with her and is pained with her, under that hot sun, while we happily worship God in our church and seek to please Him with all our hearts.

James 2:5-7
Matthew 26:45
Luke 11:42
Mark 4:45
James 2:1-7

Written in 2003, and reproduced here in my short story website.