Life in All Its Fullness

"Aunty, we are back to say thank you," the woman had come up to me just as I  finished translating a brother's sharing before the street feeding started. She was beaming a huge smile at me. As usual I couldn't remember the name, but I did remember giving some money to her and the husband some 2 weeks ago, because they were purportedly stranded in the city, after having arrived from Malacca in search of employment. I never cease to wonder how is it that people can just up and leave their families and hometowns with no apparent plan or money on hand and think they can simply land a job in the big city. What is it about KL that attracts people from everywhere who all seem to assume life is better where the bright lights are?? Maybe they watch too much TV. Inevitably reality hits hard when after days of wandering around, they find out they are competing against every other Mansor, Muthu and Ah Meng (and that's only local M'sians; I haven't added those from foreign lands) who is job-hunting as well. It's never my habit to give money to the folks I meet every Saturday at the street-feeding, except in rare cases when I feel particularly led to. I know very well I run the risk of seeing my money and the person disappear. Worse instead of being used as bus fare balik kampong or going to hospital, as the sob story invariably goes,  my money could very well buy the recipient's next drug/alcohol/sex fix.

But this couple was one of those rare exceptions when I decided to give what they needed to get home. So I was surprised to see them back in town. Turned out they had indeed returned home, but had been called back because they had both landed jobs in Shah Alam after all. And a good job it was; as factory operators, not only was it secure, but they were given housing as well. No wonder she was beaming. When I asked her if she knew who she should really thank, her smile got even bigger as she pointed up to heaven and whispered Jesus.

Before I could even sit down to talk further with her, a young chap cut in somewhat unceremoniously, "Aunty, you remember me..., Paul." Of course I didn't remember. Honestly these people must think I have a mega-brain capable of storing every one's names whom I meet over the years at the streets. But I vaguely remembered the face. "There, you got me to go to rehab centre...I no more on drugs, aunty, only still drinking, now I am working in Astro...." I still couldn't remember, but it didn't matter; hearing he was working was already a bonus as far as I was concerned. "I doing acting drama, aunty... tell people don't take drugs, or alcohol or simply sleep around with prostitutes, nanti get HIV..." "So why are you still drinking?" I had to ask. He smiled sheepishly, "I go church, aunty. I know Jesus" as if offering that as an apology to me. Well, at least he knew his Savior, and if he could get cleaned up so much as to hold a decent job, his Savior will get to him regarding the drinking sooner or later.

I was already jumping for joy inside. 2 'success' stories is really a lot for a day on the streets. But God had 1 more up his sleeve. Moving to the fringes of the crowd, I caught sight of another familiar, but long absent face. "Aunty, you remember me.." (Man, this was beginning to sound like an old recording) "You prayed for me years ago in the Klang bus station centre, I was crying, I never forget your prayer, thank you, God bless you. Jesus loves you." Needless to confess, I don't have the slightest inkling what I had prayed for this smartly-dressed man. But ya, it didn't matter. "Jesus loves you, and God bless you too, brother" was my glad rejoinder to him. " I know Jesus loves me, thanks to you, aunty. God bless you. God bless you" That was what he kept repeating, as he reached for my hand to shake. His clasp, his eyes said everything already - he knows God is real.

Now I was the one grinning from ear to ear. 3 real-life testimonies from ordinary people who have encountered the living God and are witnesses of His transforming power - this is really my day! But God had 1 last bonus for me. There were only a couple of people left. The man came  to sit beside me, as I was intending to go off. "I have a problem, aunty..." I looked at my watch; I had plans to visit my godma in the nursing home. The sky was dark with rain-clouds. But I couldn't leave; not with that kind of intro. He had just been released from prison. Another hurting heart that only Jesus can heal, another life that only Jesus can save. Once again,  I could offer no help except to point him to the One who is the Hope of all mankind.... 

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked why  I bother to do such 'good works' if I already am so sure of going to heaven. After all, if Jesus Christ has already done all that is necessary to 'save' mankind;  if by simply confessing with the mouth and believing in the heart that Jesus' death is sufficient atonement for my sins and I have thereby escaped the prison of eternal hell, why do I still slog out my Saturdays feeding the poor, homeless and rejects of society who most of the time, don't even listen to me share? 'Success' stories are few and far between after all. Why waste my time and energy doing all this goody-goody stuff  when I could very well just stay at home, do the 'minimum expected' religious activity ie go to church on Sundays, read my Bible, pray (or don't pray), sit back, relax and wait for the angels to beam me up to the pearly gates once my time on earth is over. After all, I already got my 1 way ticket to heaven from Jesus Himself, since I am saved by grace through my faith in Him. 
 

 The debate about grace vs works is nothing new. It continues to be a favorite challenge thrown at Christians. Other religions are very clear about good works; the motivation is to 'purchase' and accumulate enough merit points to attain a higher state of being or to 'earn' your right to a seat in heaven's pleasure-chambers. That's pretty logical and reasonable, but not so with Christianity. On the one hand, we are told that it is by grace we have been saved, through faith—and this is not from ourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast" (Ephesians 2:8-9)  But at the same time we are supposed to 'work out our salvation in fear and trembling' (Philippians 2:12), and told point-blank that "faith without works is dead." (James 2:20) A glaring contradiction, as astute critics point out, so which is correct? Yet if I have learnt anything at all about my faith, it is that Christianity doesn't offer any nice, 'pat' correct answers to those looking for logical enlightenment. Surely no answer doesn't make it a lie; it could well be that there really is no need (as far as God is concerned) to ask the question, on this side of earth, in order to believe the truth. After all He has revealed everything needed for us to make a decision - He gave us Jesus Christ.

I may not be able to write a doctorate's dissertation that can adequately address the issue of grace vs works. But my faith lies not in my ability to 'prove God'; it lies in the One who died for me, taking and nailing my shame, my sin to the cross. And that's why I 'work' good. Because, firstly, it's the right thing to do. If even people who don't believe in God do good (and some are so much better at it than Christians, which is to my embarrassment), surely those who claim to know God are expected to do the same, if not more, since these are always held (fairly or unfairly) to a higher standard of behavior. I do good, because Jesus did good, and if I claim to be His follower, I must follow all He did. That's the hall-mark of being a disciple which separates out 'mere believers' - people who call themselves Christian and yet don't live like how Christ lived, for which they themselves will have to account to God when the time comes. In any event, I don't let that stop me from doing what I know and want to do as a practicing, not just a believing, Christian.  I want to do my best for the world I am placed in; recognizing that this is my work for God.

But the most compelling reason why I do good is because it's my way of saying "I love You, Jesus and thank You,  for the highest good You have done for me, sacrificing Your life for mine." It's as simple as that. Loving Him is not an obligation I need to 'repay' God with my works; it's not a duty I must grudgingly undertake as part of some 'salvation package' for my soul. It's understanding and appreciating that I am meant to be a blessing, because I have been so blessed.

I drove home that day with an overflowing heart. This is what makes it all worthwhile. This is what life in all its fullness is about. I don't mean the assurance of a 'mansion in the sky' (that's already guaranteed). Neither do I mean the grateful thank-you's I receive from people whose names I can't remember. I don't even mean the improvement in their lives, although that's so encouraging. What is really my sweetest reward is the fact that they know Jesus; that my encounter with them, no matter how brief it was, the little that I did, led them to discover the truth of a living, loving God, as I myself have discovered.

"Now this is eternal life: that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent" - John 17:3