Born in the Church Prison - Cries of a Second-Generation Captive
What do you do when
you realise that everything done as a second-generation Christian is … useless?
"Second-generation
Christians are imprisoned, not by the idols of atheism, but the idols of the
church. Their prison cells are called Sunday School, Youth Group and Worship
Service; their slavemasters are their leaders, youth pastors and elders; and
their futile works are in evangelism, follow-up, prayer, devotion and worship.
The most cruel part of this imprisonment is for a Christian child to be free,
he has to acknowledge that whatever he has done as worth nothing – everything,
from leading in worship, in service, in teaching the Word, in leading others –
as worthless, or as Paul says ‘count them dung’. It is to recognise,
acknowledge and renounce the concept of ‘living up’ to God and to take the
truth that Christianity is ‘living WITH God’, day to day." - Matthias Kwan, 2018
Writing an account of my life so far will not be easy, and
not easily believed. After countless times of writing ‘testimonies’, it is easy
to think that this is just another ‘breakthrough’ point. However, the
difference is in the hand that writes it, being motivated not for myself, or
others, but by a mystical driving force that I can only consider supernatural
intervention.
This account is written to all second-generation Christians
trapped in their prisons of Christian values, church expectations and Christian
peer pressure. I hope that you do not have to face the same thing, or go to the
extent that I went, but I want you to know this – you are not alone. Many of us
– and myself included – are afraid to stop doing, because we think if we stop
doing we stop being Christians. But that’s not true. Christianity is about
living with God, as His children. We are not God’s workers, He works through
us. All He asks is that we let Him in.
Blind Faith
A simple introduction of this audacious writer – born a
premature male in the year 1995, on the December 28th, I was born in
a Caesarian labour to Carol Kwan and Edmond Tan. The firstborn of two males, I
would grow up in my grandfather’s house, fast becoming the Joseph of the
family. My mother would recount to me that Kong Kong would come back with a new
toy every day just for me. Three years later on, I would be waiting in the
sitting room watching Barney while my mum labored out my younger brother in the
month of December 1998.
My early years were very simple and I did not remember much.
However, since young I was attuned to go to church and attend Sunday School
like a normal Christian kid. I barely remember anything taught in the classes,
only that I would fidget a lot, especially during prayer time. It got to a
point where my mum told my Sunday School teachers (one was my aunt, one was a
pastor) to tell me not to fidget
during prayer. (Hint: I still shake my legs when I am writing this, so not much
success there)
At the age of 13, I started ‘follow-up’ – basic one-to-one
training with an older Christian, a cornerstone of my church (we are
traditional in a sense, but with strong direction). My first leader was my big
cousin, coincidentally. We started at the same time as my other 13-year old
cousin who was under another senior. I used to envy my peer cousin as her
sessions were more consistent, while both my leader and I would pull sick leave
from follow-up every now and then.
Of course, at the time I didn’t realise that I was a fierce competitor
and a very sore loser AND a very proud person. I was among the first people to
start praying publicly in the SonShine group and quickly became the go-to guy
for thanksgiving prayer. (Oh, you want a thanksgiving prayer guy? Ask Alan,
he’s done it for years) Each time I would expectantly wait for my next level up
– chairing a meeting (15 years old), prizes for memorising verses (every year
since 12 years old), mentoring another (that came way early, at 16 years old,
RIP Niroshen – lucky he went under Mr Vijayan after that and grew in the LORD
well), chairing in a Sonshine camp (20 years old, to my chagrin). I even felt
that my age when I was baptised was something worth boasting (I was the
youngest in my peer group to be baptised, the last was at 16 years old. That
means I have taken at least 6 Communions than our last member, SUCKA!)
Also, I collected positions on the side. By 16, I had
already achieved the unofficial rank in terms of memory verses. Only very
rarely did I not know a verse, and would be able to quote the gist if I knew
the rough concordance of a chapter. Many considered me to be ahead and in
certain areas I was. No one could rival my skill in studying God’s Word (I’ve
rusted considerably now).
And yet, I was never satisfied. I always envied the popular
cliques in the church, complaining that there shouldn’t be these ‘divisions’
(Attention seeker much? I know!). I always envied those who could just ‘fish’
believers like a pro (my second leader won 4 contacts in 4 years). At the same
time, I continued to hone my skills in the Word of God – getting better and
better at Verse analysis, chapter analysis and many more. I was frustrated when
I was told that I couldn’t progress to File 3 because I had not won a contact,
and got stuck with doing stuff. Perhaps MDC fellows will know what I am talking
about, but to put it simply. I cared a lot about what others thought about me
and sought to create a ‘perfect’ character for them to see and admire.
It was the same in my studies. I regarded all those who
scored over me as enemies, and would prove myself to be better than them. I
gloated secretly when I ‘exacted revenge’ in SPM to a friend who beat me in
UPSR results. I was obsessed with the number 1 spot (the biggest downside that
I went to a suburban school, it boosted my ego to oversized proportions). I
cursed and swore on a daily basis, made dirty jokes, and generally enjoyed
being treated as a ‘god’ of studies. That was who I am, a ‘god’ to myself.
Wait, you ask, how can that be? How can one who knows the
Word of God be such a proud, stuck-up, snobby jerk? The answer is simple: I
wasn’t living as a Christian, I was just doing what I was told to do as a
‘Christian’. That’s the point I want to make in this passage – doing good works
is not the same as being crucified in Christ, for second-generations, this
means doing Christian stuff to ‘prove that you are a Christian’.
I am not blaming the
church or my leaders for making us this way – their intentions were good, but
the fact of the matter is that training us in the external trappings were never
going to be enough. It was never going to be enough to ask your four-year old
boy to ‘make a decision for Christ’ when he wasn’t even ready to make an
independent decision himself. It was never enough to just train teens who never
made a real decision to follow Christ, to follow Christ. In my years up to my
2-oh, I will say that all that I was doing was following my parents’ faith, the
tradition of the church, and the old curse of working for my salvation.
Shattered Reality
The turning point – this is where the hero supposedly wakes
up, realises he is supposed to be following Christ and starts to do so
wholeheartedly. Well, welcome to the real world, where turning points don’t
just happen without broken hearts, fractured friendships and shipwrecked faith.
In 2016, I went up to Penang to pursue a Bachelor in Pharmacy at University Sains Malaysia Main Campus. In so doing, I joined the Penang branch of MDC, which is led by Uncle Benjamin and Aunty Irene. Even after a few months, I struggled to take in the Sunday Messages and Bible Studies, which were termed to ‘meet the needs of the audience’. From what I saw, it seemed more of story-telling on the pulpit (I’m sorry, I still do think of it as that) and I really couldn’t take it in as solid Bible exegesis. In retrospect, this was a golden opportunity for the devil to play to my pride – the pride of knowing God’s Word ‘better’ than even the leaders of the church. Being the impulsive kid I was, I made mention to Uncle Ben one day as he was driving me back to campus on this. He thought for a while, and asked if I would like personal follow-up. I gladly agreed, thinking it the best opportunity to continue growing.
You cannot begin to imagine my feelings, when not long
after, I got a call from my mum. “Uncle Ben and Aunty Irene thinks you don’t
respect them,” she said (in not so many words). “They think that you’re being
arrogant.” She made mention of my conversation with Uncle Ben that day, and
continued with a few other statements that I do not remember. What I do
remember is a fatal, burning rage at what I could see only as betrayal. What I
told Uncle Ben on that day was private. It was NOT meant to be shared or passed
to anyone; that was the golden rule of leadership, and they had broken it.
Whatever respect I had for Uncle Ben (at least) – for I had quite a lot of
respect for them up till then, to be very, very honest and frank – that respect
died that day.
Well, you can imagine how this opportunity presented itself
to my human nature. I started to tune out from sermons every time I heard that
familiar, pompous, know-it-all voice of Uncle Ben ‘defaming’ the Word of God. I
would usually write my own notes, completely disregarding the Word of God
presented in the front. I normally would not be listening in any of the prayer
sessions. I was cold and dry in my comments with the Word of God, especially
when I knew it to be true.
This pride did not stop there. Even though appointed as Vice
President of LWCF, one of the 4 Christian Fellowships in the campus, I seemed
to neglect my duty and slack a lot. I prided myself on being God’s sword to the
people I was around, changing their perception of the Word from time to time. I
scorned anyone who showed that their understanding of the Word to be inferior
to me, and showed no commitment to the faith. At the same time, I started to
get involved actively in the National Student Body for Pharmacists in Malaysia,
and this would put a toll on me and my other activities. Soon it became clear
to me that I had to choose between my commitment with the church and my
national association as well as other events.
Well, many know how that went down. My renouncement and
leaving LWCF did not go down well with Pastor Looi, who I think is still very
hurt/worried of my decision to this day. Subsequently, I broke off from MDC
Penang in March 2018, where I went completely dark for many months had
repercussions as well. During that time, I took some time to be with my fellow
friends, going on outings and working on my national association. I do not
exactly remember what I was thinking, but it went along these lines: I’ve had
enough of this life of lies. If I want to live as a hypocrite and shipwreck of
the faith, I might as well do it openly.
Why did I think that way? Probably the reason was I was sick
and tired of the stereotypical statements of ‘let’s go do witnessing’, or ‘we
need to study topical bible study this way’,
or ‘this is how we must have worship to God on Sundays by services’. It did not
help that I was struggling with sin in my life, and the devil took pure delight
in torturing me and telling me “You call yourself a child of God? Don’t make me
laugh!” In the end, I reacted exactly as he planned – I said, “If I’m not a
child of God, so what? I’m gonna live my own life. There’s nothing you can do
to stop me.”
That marks the end of my life as a second-generation
Christian – a life made of a pack of cards, a whitewashed tomb, a life of doing
and trying to live up to the expectations of a God that I so-called received
when I was young and baptised into when I had half to no idea what I had done.
If anything, I do blame the lies many churches spin - the lie that says I could
believe and be saved without following Christ. All of us want to see our friends, family and
children with you in heaven, and if possible your grandchildren too. That’s not
wrong, but we know better than to force the gospel down someone’s throat. If I
dare take a step further, the reason why we do just that is because no one
wants to say “Oh, he’s not with the Lord anymore,” when Aunty B or Uncle M asks
that. Put it simply, we don’t want the shame to be endured when your child goes
astray. At the same time, we have to recognise that we have no control over
their salvation. Only God has that honour, and you certainly will wreck other
people’s lives as badly as you want to save it if we do as such. Give them the
choice, state the conditions and leave it to God to move the heart.
This story ends here.
New Hope
Well, it will be a sad tale if the story REALLY ended here,
wouldn’t it? Here’s where the hero takes up the mantle, regains his crown and
rides on to victory – except that this has already happened, on a cold dark
afternoon on the Hill of the Skull. The hero’s blood stained the mantle, the
crown were of brambles, and the victory cry was a shout “It is finished.” And
this is where the real story begins.
It was another afternoon in Kuala Lumpur, where I always
visit Uncle Michael (for the past few months I had been a regular weekend guest
at his house) and joined the fellowship for single men under Pastor Joshua Lee.
During the discussion between the young men (all of whom I knew since I was 120
cm), I blurted out my troubles for no reason (apparently) about myself and
church and well everything. As I spoke, I thought to myself – I don’t even tell
others this, why am I telling nearly a total stranger this? (This was only my
second meeting with Pastor Joshua, and I did not even know him well)
That moment passed, and I went up to the church for the
Bible Study. The passage in discussion was Philippians 4:8 “Finally brothers,
whatever is true, whatever is pure, whatever is right, whatever Is lovely,
whatever is noble – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such
things.” As we discussed on the passage, I remember Paul Wong (another person
whom I totally did not know at all) talk about the essence of developing the
mind of Christ as the love for Christ. He mentioned on it not being enough to
focus on the negatives, but to fill the mind with the positive qualities of
Christ, fuelled by our love to know Christ and to make Him known. For reasons
still beyond my comprehension, I made this commitment – LORD, I want to know
who I entrusted my life to. I will read the gospel by John for 7 days for 30
minutes per day, and at the end we will see the result.
Well, now comes the really strange part. I started to read
the gospel of John as I kept the pact. By the second day, I noticed a strange
occurrence – my ability in deciphering the Word of God, which up to my
breakdown became near to non-existent had somehow made a comeback. The Spirit
recalled verses thought long forgotten from memory, and I sensed a strange but
comforting presence. Again, many would consider a placebo effect or some
otherworldly effect. I call it the restart of my love life with God.
As I made it through the days, I realised different things.
Even though sin was an ever present existence in my life, there was no longer
any fear or guilt to God as I used to. Instead, the confidence to approach the
Father for forgiveness and to stand above sin as its victor became a battlecry
I hold. The comforting presence never left my side, and each time I would find
myself looking upward and thanking God for His provision.
Today marks the 21st day after the day I wagered
with God, and I can honestly, with a slight grin on my face that I lost that
wager. God is more real than he has ever been in my life, and this is just the
beginning of something new in the Christian walk. Not expecting it to be easy,
but at the least, I have him every step of the way.
Breaking Free
As I close this account, I once again reflect – could this
be just another fake ‘turning point’ for me? Maybe. Right now, though, it feels
pretty real to me. I don’t need to walk and chase God, I can just walk
alongside Him as He shows the next step in my journey through life. There is no
longer that formality that one has to a Master, it is the familiarity of a son
to His Father. There is no longer an artificial sense of needing to prove
myself, it is by recognising I am unworthy and He is all-worthy that matters.
My fellow second-generation, I know how sceptical we are of
these ‘turning points’. I know how we doubt that we can ever have these turning
points in our lives. I know how we wonder whether we will ever be committed as
our parents in following the gospel. And at the heart of it, I know how
desperate we are to be with them in heaven itself. However, God’s salvation
doesn’t work by us desperately throwing our lives to Him without counting the
cost first. I’ve done that countless times before and had those fake ‘turning
points’, which fizzled out to nothing. God requires us to face Him in his
glory, and recognise that whatever we do in our church, in our worship, in our
daily lives will never ever make us worthy to be called His children and doing
more will do us no good towards that goal. He requires us to break our ideals
that we need to be like our Christian parents in order to be called Christians.
He wants us to break the idols of doing and works, and having renounced
everything in the world to come to Him in humility and trembling. He requires
us to bow our heads in grief and anguish in order to lift us up in hope and
joy.
Don’t get me wrong – it’s humiliating and terrifying to know
the entire life you have been working for God is for nothing. I know that for a
fact. However, to continue and persist in futility would achieve the same
result. I know some of us feel we just need to do more for God to be worthy of
Him, but we need to recognise even our brightest garments are filthy rags in
His sight. We can NEVER please Him, we will never be worthy of Him. In a term I
coined, let’s be honest hypocrites – people who recognise their own hypocrisy
and show it openly. It’s the only way we can confront our own selves and
recognised that we are indeed poor in Spirit. Only Christ is worthy and rich,
and unless we acknowledge that we can never be Him and we need Him for his
sake, and not to be in heaven, can we have a glimpse at the way to God. I don’t
dare say I know the exact way to God, that’s His own right to hold. All I can
say is that I’m making my way slowly with God, just enjoying His presence, and
I want to keep it that way.
Epilogue: Connecting
the Dots
When you read my story, you will think of it as a mess at
first. I mean, it’s so dirty and grim. Welcome to Christians in the World, 2018
edition. Christianity isn’t a life where we joyfully fly to countries, share
the gospel, build churches and win disciples without being detained,
reprimanded, banned, scorned, mocked, shattered, battered, betrayed and
isolated. A tinsel Christianity is just another religion for the weak, a poor
substitute of a life lived in harmony and peace with the Triune God of the
universe.
Despite the fact that I made many wrong turns and caused so
many hurts, I do believe that at each turn it was God who directed my steps and
would ultimately win me to Himself. If I had not been involved with the
national body of pharmacy students, I would not have come down to KL so often
and gone to that Bible Study. If I did not quarrel with MDC Penang, I would not
see the monster that I had become. If I did not have sin in my life, I would
not know how wretched I am as a sinner. In the end, all evil plotted against me
became God’s instruments to mold me and shape me to where I am now. For that I
am forever grateful. Sola deo Gloria!
Uncle Ben and Aunty Irene, words cannot express how sorry I am to have hurt you in MDC Penang. It seemed that it was God’s will to detonate me further away from home, and it was unfortunate that I blew up so wildly. I do ask for your forgiveness, both now and in the future. I cannot reconcile myself to the style of old MDC, but I will do my best to assert my style, the new MDC generation, to the best of my abilities. Godbless and please take care.
Memory verse? Hmm, I believe the Word of God is lived out through actions, and not to be quoted here and there. For argument’s sake, I will put this verse “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water – John 4: 10”. If we know what the gift of salvation and the true nature of the giver, at the same time recognising we have been as unfaithful as the Samaritan woman, then we would ask him and he would give us the life that causes us to never thirst after anything other than Him any longer.
As I lay down my pen, I take the opportunity to thank:
- My parents, who showed an exemplary lifestyle in following Christ
- Reverend MG George, who gave me the idea of writing this
- God, who is the primary mover of this hand on the keyboard