I entered a public university when I was sixteen. The atmosphere is unlike the surroundings in elementary and high school, which put premium on order, discipline and piety, in the midst of a Catholic education and upbringing.

In the university, I met students and professors who expressed frustration and anger over many things – whether the government or the school systems, a lot of which were justified. Yet, their frustration would also sometimes be directed against God – more specifically, against people’s beliefs. They did not always disavow the historicity of Christ, but claimed the story of his resurrection to be absurd, a form of delusion.

Many in the university defended their faith against such assaults. While I had friends from both sides, I shunned away from any discussion of faith, thinking that since each had deeply felt conviction, these could only lead to endless debate or confrontation. Moreover, it was a time when my focus was aimed at a new discovery that held far greater appeal, the world of vice. Of course, I did not consider excessive beer consumption during my university years as a form of addiction then, but only as a passage in a young man’s life which sought enjoyment in the company of his peers. I would eventually overcome the call for alcohol, after graduation, but would still give in to the lure of other pleasures.

But something else happened from the time I entered the university, which will be carried through in the next twenty years. I lost interest in going to church; I avoided reading the bible, and found myself doubting if there was something to be expected beyond the material world. On few occasions that I entered the church, or say a little prayer, I did not seek, nor feel, a sense of connectedness with God. I began to lose faith, and moved towards the slow undertow of disbelief.

I had no illusion of having a personal encounter with God when I first attended, upon Ferdie and Lanie’s invitation, the bible study group led by Brother Joey and Sister Grace or when I began showing up to the church services. I went there to win the heart of someone else – and now we have a son. Before we were married in August last year, Juliet told me that there would be a pre-marital seminar to be conducted by our pastor, to which I agreed thinking those were part of formality procedures prior to the wedding.

Our first session with Pastor Louie did not start with a focus on marital topics right away, but instead with questions about our levels of faith, and our idea of heaven, exactly those things I have no interest to dwell on. I answered nonetheless saying that I have not been a religious person, although my idea of heaven when I was younger is that a person’s conduct here on earth while still alive will be assessed, and if the good things done outweigh the bad things, then one will gain admission in heaven.

What I did not tell the pastor then, to avoid being locked in a prolonged and futile debate, was that I found it hard to believe in the idea of life after death.

Our pastor just gave a one sentence reply. He said:  “It is not because of your religion or through your works that you are saved but only by the grace of God through his Son of Jesus Christ, because all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God.”

We proceeded to the topic of marriage afterwards.

Because my wife is a Christian, I would continue to attend the cell group and church services after our wedding, and would even join the Encounter. The Encounter had given me a glimpse of what God is like, yet a few months later God’s presence seems to fade, and I would again be riddled by doubts, and would ask “Does God really exist?.” The intimacy in dealing with a personal God evident among other church members when praying or when worshiping seems to elude me. Oftentimes, I wonder if I there are better uses of my time on Saturdays and Sundays other than fellowship.

But then, just as my doubts and stubbornness begin to weaken my resolve, I would find myself recalling the moment when I first heard about God’s grace during the pre-marital seminar. That one word evokes in me a feeling of pride, arrogance, and boastfulness. Arrogance for behaving the way that I do in the face that “God might be a real possibility.” Pride for not giving the search for God a serious consideration. And boastfulness for thinking that my conduct here on earth – which has been unsatisfactory –would merit my own salvation.

Yet, I would be also swept by a feeling of reverence. I’ll offer a possible explanation. During the past twenty years, inspite of my destructive lifestyle, the reason I could think of back then why I was not completely harmed, is that I have been on the receiving end of the goodwill and kindness of my family and a lot other people, even when I do not deserve or earn their kindness. When I try to describe their actions, I would, without really knowing why, simply call it grace.

I remember, for example, when I worked in Saipan for seven years. There I met a manager who demands high standards from employees, yet has the foresight to build the organization not upon our weaknesses, but on the promise of our strengths and possibilities. She has a generous spirit, and in my email to her after leaving the company to come to Canada, I expressed gratitude for these things and for something more – the pleasure to observe her actions and decisions, which have been marked with grace, intelligence and calm restraint.

There is also an element of grace in the unusual beginning of our bible study group. The story goes that when cell groups were first introduced, the leaders were given a free hand to choose their members from among the church congregation. Sister Grace waited until other leaders have made their selection, then those that were left behind, without any group, she adopted them to be a part of her own. In the company of these members, I met kindred spirits and found a home.

Grace finds expression in other ways – whether in comfort in time of grief, solace provided by nature, or even in marriage. A life that has been marked by indifference and resentment, like mine, has been graced by the beauty, kindness and warmth of a wife who knows the meaning of love.

I long and thirst for grace in ways I cannot fully explain. But in all these years, I have not heard - or paid attention to what is called God’s grace. Just as I was grappling with this idea, I saw a book “Purpose of Christmas” by Pastor Rick Warren at a bookstore last year. I browsed the book’s middle part and chanced upon an account of his interview with Peter Drucker, where he asked the business professor about the time he discovered his faith. To which Drucker’s replied, “I became a Christian when I understood the meaning of grace. I found out I would not see any better deal than that.” I returned the book on the shelf, and went away more puzzled than enlightened.

Because of the prayers and examples of my cell group, the church, and my wife, I too started to pray. My prayers were muted at first, so I would begin with a prayer I’ve known as a child, Our Father. I also began by reading the bible, and the works of other Christian writers. In a slow, gradual process I learned about God’s Word – the Word that finds fullest expression in Jesus Christ.

In reading the gospel, and about the life of Jesus, most of my arguments for disbelief, including his resurrection, began to dissolve. His resurrection and later appearances were made in the presence of most skeptical eyewitnesses. “That Jesus succeeded in changing a snuffling bad of unreliable followers into fearless evangelists, that eleven men who had deserted him at death now went to martyrs’ graves avowing their faith in resurrected Christ, that these few witnesses managed to set loose a force that would overcome violent opposition first in Jerusalem and then in Rome – this remarkable sequence of transformation offers a convincing evidence for the Resurrection,” writes the author of Jesus I Never Knew.

To my surprise, Jesus’ message of grace is one that I have come to love. In the words of the same author, “Both for God and for us, Jesus made possible an intimacy that had never existed before.  He introduced profound changes in how we view God. Mainly, he brought God near. To Jews who knew a distant, ineffable God, Jesus brought the message that God cares for the grass of the field, feeds the sparrows, numbers the hair on a person’s head. To Jews who would not pronounce or even spell out the letters of God’s name, Jesus taught a new way of addressing God:  Abba, or Father. Because of him, we can come to God directly. We need no human mediator, for God himself became one.

 “Jesus went out of his way to embrace the unloved and unworthy, the folks who matter not at all to the rest of society, to prove that even nobodies matter infinitely to God. One unclean woman, too shy and full of shame to approach Jesus face-to-face, grabbed his robe, hoping he would not notice. He did notice. She learned, like so many other nobodies that you cannot easily escape Jesus’ gaze.

 “In his response to the rich young ruler, in the parable of Good Samaritan, in his comments about divorce, money or any other moral issue, Jesus never lowered God’s Ideal. ‘Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect,’ he said, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ Not anyone has completely fulfilled those commands. Yet the same Jesus tenderly offered absolute grace. Jesus forgave an adulterous, a thief on the cross, a disciple who had denied ever knowing him. He tapped that traitorous disciple, Peter, to found his church and for the next advance turned to man named Saul, who had made his mark persecuting Christians. Grace is absolute, inflexible, all-encompassing. It extends even to the people who nailed Jesus to the cross: ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing’ were among the last words Jesus spoke on earth.”

The same kind of grace extends even to me. As the Epistles to the Romans said, “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Now I get to understand why I had a sudden sensation of pride when I first heard that my salvation is a gift of God’s grace during our pre-marital seminar. No one can boast before the Lord, and there is only one way to stand before him – in brokenness, humility, and bended knees.

I started my search for Jesus last year, without much expectation, except to know more about him and to understand the meaning of his grace. I end up, a year later, wanting to have a relationship instead.

One night not too long ago, I asked in prayer, “In all these years that I seek grace, is it your grace and tender mercy – Is it you – whom I am seeking for all along?” That night, I asked for forgiveness of my sins, and accepted Jesus as my Lord and Saviour.

I wish I can also say that I have fully dedicated myself to Jesus, but I could not. Often, I find myself acting in a way that is contrary to the gifts of the Spirit. I have not answered God’s call on giving, and there are other sinful ways that are too deeply ingrained. In the face of these limitations, I am encouraged that it is the Lord, our God, who continues to touch and heal so that we can grow in the likeness of his ways, with the support of the church and cell group, and inspiration of my wife and Robert Allan, our son –God’s gracious gift to us.

It is amazing how God chooses his own way of revealing himself to touch the life of a nonbeliever. I can say that now from my own experience. I used to dismiss the spiritual experience of others. I have been unmoved or unaffected by testimonies of people claiming to have seen visions or to have received miraculous healing or blessings that eventually lead to their conversion.

Yes, I used to dismiss them. But how can I still do? When I thought that my heart has been so hardened, and I have lost all sensitivity to any call of faith; when I would mockingly remark that it would probably require a miracle or a vision of huge proportion for me to believe, how would I expect that it will only take – or that God will only invoke – a single word (grace) to humble me of my pride, to make me want to know more about Jesus, and ultimately to accept him as my Lord and Saviour.

I would like to end this testimony with a short poem I first read when I was in my mid-twenties. It is not biblical in nature, but somehow described my personal journey towards faith:

We shall not cease from exploration.
And the end of all our exploring
will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time.

 As I looked back on these past twenty years, during which I deny God’s existence, or thought that he is simply silent or unreachable, when I did a lot of harm to myself and to others, but still gifted with those precious moments that make life worthwhile, moments that I cannot described fully except to call it grace, I come to realize that God never stops to surround me with his presence.

Even when I fail him, God, the pursuer of my soul, has always been there.

 

by: Anonymous