Enjoying a breakfast of Foochow fishball noodles at Yong PengSingapore plated Porches parked in front of the shop makes for good advertisement
It was relaxing to have a welcome break between two camps. I really needed it. In one camp I was the speaker and the other was my church camp where I had to do the first and last sessions. My wife and I and two other couples went to a high end condominium in Kuala Lumpur City Center, at one of the couple’s invitation. We left on Sunday at 6.30 am to avoid any possible traffic jam and thank God there was none. We stopped at Yong Peng for a fishball breakfast but as it turned out we were not the only Singaporeans. There were about 25 Porches parked in front and next door at the petrol station and along the street.
Long leisurely home made breakfasts in the apartment. Clockwise Annie, Sunny, Janet, Tat Loong, Jenny, Kenny.One of the views from the condo bridge conjoined to Renaissance HotelWaiting while others get their spectacles done at Sungei WangEating by the streets of ChinatownThe usual fare at the night pasar malam
We reached Kuala Lumpur around 1230 pm. The apartment was as beautifully furnished as a five star hotel. We enjoyed our stay in the apartment with its unblocked city views. We had leisurely breakfasts and night snacks and long chats. In between these we walked and shopped and ate. It so nice not having to think or decide – just follow the flow. We used the Rapid KL monorail but walked most of the time. Only once we took the cab after a long tiring day. Shopping was fun because one Singapore dollar went for $2.75 ringgit. At Sungei Wang, I got myself a Braun Buffel spectacle frame with lenses to correct my astigmatism and short sightedness for $138 ringgit. There is no way I can get it at this price in Singapore. No way. The food was reasonably priced due to the exchange rate. We had a good seafood meal at Petaling Street, their “Chinatown”, and that was a tourist area.
By the time we left on Tuesday morning we were reluctant to leave but satisfied and thankful. We gelled well and set our minds for Melaka for the church camp.
Agape Methodist Church wanted to introduce their members to the spiritual disciplines. Their ministry staff member Jeremiah Singh remembered how I introduced the lectio divina and examen to their church group two years earlier in another church camp. So they invited me to lead their retreat. When I met Rev Vincent Goh, and immediate kinship bound us as we were among a handful of pastors who have done the Ignatian 30 days silent retreat. We were on the same wavelength and talked the same language. We met for fellowship a few times before the actual church retreat from 11 June to 13 June in Pulai Springs Resort.
View from the hotelView from my roomMeeting point at the church worship hall at Yung Ching
The meeting point was at Agape Methodist Church at Yuan Ching Road, formerly an NTUC Club building directly opposite the now defunct Tang Dynasty theme park. The church partnered with the Lakeside community services to lease the building and reach out to the surrounding households of the Jurong West area. The Chinese congregation and English congregation went together to Pulai Springs but each had different camp speakers and so did the children’s church.
Ice breakers that got Chinese and English congregations to mingle and play
Agape Methodist Church is a family church. The members were warm, friendly and easy going. I quickly felt at ease and relaxed with them. I enjoyed their fellowship and got to know people during the several meals we had together. Quite a number of the members were founder or pioneer members who were with the church from the beginning when it first started as a preaching point of Faith Methodist Church. One of the members that I renewed acquaintance with was Jason Foo, someone I knew from before, who still has fire in his heart for missions.
Singing to the Lord before the talks and practice sessionsThe hotel gave the church a hall that could seat 800Rev Vincent doing holy communion at the last session
There were six talks with practice sessions or group sharing and prayer. I was pleasantly surprised that I had been thoroughly prepared for this camp. I must confess it had not been so at other times when I did camps for other churches. I was thus pleased with my sustained effort in preparations. The topics covered spiritual practices like slowing down, silence, lectio divina, and examen (the review of the day). The big picture topics covered the “Six stages of the life of faith” and “Journeying through the Wall.” I enjoyed doing all the talks and the practical sessions that followed. It was fun to facilitate these practical sessions and see people take to the different ancient paths of prayer. I could see that they too enjoyed trying out these “new” paths.
I told them many Christians are in a large stuffy room with numerous windows of prayer. But most have opened only a few of them: intercessory prayer, petition prayer. Naturally the room is stuffy. More windows of prayer need to be opened so that the wind of the Spirit can freshen up our stuffy church lives. I believe they understood this vivid image and began to open some of the other windows. They had a good introduction to the disciplines and I trust they will go on to incorporate some of these means of grace into their lives. I was pleased that the young people were eager and open to learning such ancient ways. The Lord bless and empower them.
It is really sad that though the Christian church was one church in the first thousand years and it had many good as well as bad traditions, but some of the good traditions (including these ancient ways of prayer) were rejected and thrown out the door together with the bad traditions by the Reformation.
I left the retreat tired from doing six sessions in a three days two nights camp but gratified that I have deposited something worthwhile that can be followed up on by the church members themselves with the continued support of the leaders. May Agape Methodist Church continue to be the friendly and compassionate church, and rooted in the rest and love of God.
J I Packer said, “It has often been said that Christianity in North America is 3,000 miles wide and half an inch deep.” It is the same with the Singapore church and we do need ancient paths of prayer (and persecution) to help us deepen our lives. How wonderful it would be to do something similar for other church camps too.
Rev Vincent Goh (Ps in charge), myself, Rev Mee Hee, Jeremiah, and Stanley
I have minted a new word from the Sunday pulpit: “fifany”. This is the season of Pentecost. So over the last few Sundays we have been preaching about the Holy Spirit and people’s encounters with Him. We planned a series of sermons that will cover Acts 1, 2, 8, 9 and 10. Last Sunday I was preaching Acts 8, about what happens when the Holy Spirit comes, as seen through the eyes of Simon the sorcerer. I mentioned to the church that the word “simony” comes from this story. Simony is the buying of religious office and positions. Bribes are given, lands are given, money is given and in exchange someone gets appointed a bishop, or archbishop or some other position of power and influence. During the dark ages such positions yielded power and wealth and thus are coveted. Simon the sorcerer saw the Holy Spirit’s amazing power given with the laying of hands and it so impressed him he wanted to buy that
God given grace from the apostle Peter and John. Peter scolded him, “To hell with your money! And you along with it. Why, that’s unthinkable—trying to buy God’s gift! You’ll never be part of what God is doing by striking bargains and offering bribes. Change your ways—and now! Ask the Master to forgive you for trying to use God to make money. I can see this is an old habit with you; you reek with money-lust.” Then I mentioned about “fifany” – in FIFA the world’s federation of associations that control international football. In FIFA bribes were used to buy votes so that a country could host the World Cup. Everybody suspects it but now the FBI from USA is investigating it. The country least interested in football is going to do the rest of the world that is crazy about football a very big favour: catch the crooks and surgically remove the cancerous organs. I wish them success. Remember this word: “fifany”.
The Sabah earthquake and the tremble of mighty Mt Kinabalu shocked and struck many chords within me. I love trekking that mountain. As a pastor I have led three church groups (20-40 members each time), of young people and families mainly from eleven years old to over fifty. To hear of news of the Sabah quake and the deaths of young climbers aged 12, and teachers of Tanjong Katong Primary School is deeply sad and disturbing. I was a teacher before, and I am a parent too, and I understand to some extent a parent’s heartbreak for I have lost a child before.
The pointing of fingers have started. People blaming the “angmohs” for disrespectfully posing naked and peeing on the sacred mountain and invoking the wrath of the gods. People blaming the school, the Ministry of Education and impersonal policies and decision making processes. Parents blaming each other and themselves. This is not the time for all these. Not the time.
Writer Ovidia Yu posted this in her Facebook:
So long as we live, they too shall live,
For they are now a part of us,
As we remember them.
Poet, writer, artist, social commentator Gwee Li Sui posted a haiku on Facebook:
Haiku to the Sabah Quake Victims
———-
As you sought to reach
the sky, it rained down boulders.
Nature has wronged you.
A church member Cynthia Koe posted in her Facebook:
In times like this it is not about what to say but what should not be said.
A time like this is a feel moment not a word moment. A listening moment not an encouraging moment.
Mourning takes time and a hand to hold not a ” aww, it is ok” hug time. Let them share their loved ones’ stories and lets hear with tears as they say their last goodbyes.
What she said is true and it inspired me to write a Haiku on my Facebook account:
Not the time for blame
But for tears and holding hands
For grief to mend hearts
So it was good that the Tanjong Katong Primary School opened it grounds for its school community to grieve.
It was good that the Ministry of Education mobilized its counselors to help survivors and classmates of the departed to grieve and process the trauma.
It was good that the government declared a day of mourning today: flags flown at half-mast, a minute of silence at all South East Asia Games venue before the start of events.
We need to pray for TKGS and all the bereaved families. It will be very very painful for them in the coming months. No, years.
RIP: Fellow Singaporean hikers who lost their lives in Sabah quake
I had been preparing the messages and workshops for a Methodist church retreat in June. It is a preached retreat to introduce fervent evangelicals to a few spiritual disciplines and spiritual formation. The topics include Slowing down, Silence, The six stages of the life of faith, Journey through he wall, The review of the day (examen), Devotional reading (lectio divina). I was preparing the talks, the Powerpoint and collecting material. Then I chanced upon this beautiful poem in Chee Soo Lian’s Facebook entry. As is often the case, the Lord has his way of bringing suitable materials to help me teach. This is a poem by Pablo Neruda, Nobel prize winning poet and writer. In one of the sessions in the preached retreat I will lead the people into a great silence or grand silence – a lengthy period of keeping quiet usually practised in the monastery. Imagine young people doing this! I will use this poem as a summons to launch the grand silence.
KEEPING QUIET
by Pablo Neruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
For once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
