Time to work towards getting the ‘old Clement’ back?

I was working this morning (well, sort of) at Vivo City. It was the National Heart Fair 2007 and I’m on their PR account. It was an extremely hot morning, and when I managed to escape into the mall for the air-con, I came across the Paths Market. It’s a bi-monthly market area for the disabled and local artists to showcase and sell their creations. A wonderful idea, actually. They had handicraft gifts and silk scarves from Cambodia, ‘samsui’ dolls made by old ladies in Singapore, handicraft gifts made by Hearing Impaired folks, along with some really cool artwork made by a down-syndrome girl, a chronic-depressive middle-aged Indian man, and caricatures by a man suffering from some form of epilepsy. It wasn’t the first time that I’ve been to this fair, but this time it was different.

I was with my sister, and for some reason, we decided to enquire about the possibility of volunteering. We met the organiser, Elim Chew, of ‘77th Street’ fame. She brought us on a little tour and filled us in to all the various stories of the participants. It was rather touching.

The problem, however, is that although I would normally be touched on hearing stories like these, it usually doesn’t amount to much more than a warm fuzzy feeling which subsides after a few minutes and is forgotten til the next time I hear another similarly touching story. I suspect that many people are the same way. Some of course go a little bit further, and tell themselves that something should.. something must be done to help. But soon, that is forgotten, and we go back to living our own lives.

I guess my problem is the result of my many negative experiences in the UK. First, there was the problems in the church I attended in London. I arrived in the UK on a ‘spiritual high’, full of idealism and enthusiasm. (I had been, from the time I became a Christian until then, under excellent teaching and preaching of the Word, and had been attending Bible College.) Having accepted a request to serve there by the Pastor (from Singapore) who was responsible for the founding of the church in London, I headed the Youth/Student Ministry at the church – speaking weekly on various topics during the Saturday meetings. I loved that group of people (in fact I remember one of them telling me that the reason why they kept coming back and were drawn to me was the belief/feeling that I really genuinely cared for them). However, with the constant opposition by a particular member of the church leadership (who was extremely difficult, sometimes hostile, towards the students) in relation to issues like evangelism among others, the constant gossip that they and their wives were sprouting, the continuous politics (which even led to good and faithful people being ‘forced out’ of the church), and their uncanny penchant for controversial issues and debate (on issues such as Calvinism, KJV only, Apologetics, Eschatology, Exegesis, just to mention a few), I left the church a year later, discouraged, jaded, completely disillusioned with Conservative Christianity (or what claimed to be Conservative Christianity).

It didn’t help that the problems continued even after I had left. I suppose I didn’t help myself by looking for another Conservative church in Birmingham, where I was studying. There I accepted an invitation to preach and everything seemed to go well, until these issues surfaced once again. This time it revolved around a guy ‘S’ and 2 ladies, ‘J’ and ‘L’.

S was a builder. I met him on one of those Saturdays that I went down to the Birmingham City Centre to ‘NetCast’ (ie evangelise). We got to talking, he allowed me to share the Gospel with him, and I had the wonderful privilege of leading him to Christ. Soon thereafter he began attending my church. He was provided with a pew bible (again a KJV). He then kept calling me every night asking me all these questions, and telling me how he was really excited to read his bible. Unfortunately there was a problem. You see, he was practically illiterate and couldn’t understand the complexities of the language of the KJV. My solution was simple. I got him large print NIV. Problem solved, so I thought. Unfortunately to the interim Pastor at the church, I had committed a heinous crime – I gave someone (and therefore endorsed) a non-KJV bible!

J was a middle-aged lady who wondered into our church one morning. I was preaching that week, and after the service, I went to speak to her. She wasn’t a Christian, but expressed a desire to know more. As such, I invited her back to the Pastor’s house for lunch (as was customary for us every week). There I had the opportunity to share with her the Gospel in its entirety, and was given the joy of leading her to Salvation. As was customary in the church, because of their beliefs on propriety, I had to ‘release’ her to another lady in the church to conduct her ‘discipleship’. This was taken up by the Interim Pastor’s wife, who in my opinion didn’t do a great job of making her feel a part of the church and she eventually fell by the way side. Then came L. L was a fellow-student at University. We met purely by accident when she showed up at my door looking for anyone who was a Singaporean. You see, she was a representative from the Singaporean Students Society (SingSoc). One night, we had a conversation on the phone which, for some reason I am unable to recall, led to the topic of Christianity. I took the opportunity to share with her the Gospel and she accepted Jesus into her heart.

Soon we commenced an unofficial ‘discipleship’ course (partly prompted by what happened with J). She started attending a nearby Pentecostal church as many of her friends (mostly fellow-Singaporeans) were attending. Despite having a different theological standpoint from them, I didn’t see any harm from her attending that church. As far as I was concerned, the one thing that was of utmost importance was her understanding and acceptance that the sole source of all faith and practice is the Bible and the Bible alone. Once she had that foundation, it didn’t really matter which church she attended. I believed that if there was in fact some problem with the church, in relation to unbiblical beliefs or practices, the Holy Spirit himself would be able to convince her to leave. That is His role, not mine. If He were to do so, it would certainly be much more powerful ad convincing then any argument I could offer.

Needless to say, on these issues the Interim Pastor didn’t see eye to eye with me. In fact that would be an understatement. He expected me to tell her that that church (the Pentecostal one) was theologically in error, and that she should leave immediately and join my church. When I refused, I was threatened with removal from ministry. And because I’ve never been one to back down when threatened, I moved on. The same feelings of discouragement, disillusionment, and hurt came flooding in once again.

This ushered in what proved to be the lowest point in my life.

I was in a relationship at that time which, despite starting very beautifully, was turning into a nightmare. We had met in the London church and, after about a year as friends, decided to get together. By the time that all this was happening, we were engaged, she was back in Singapore, in depression over what she perceived to be a bleak job situation, while I was trying to cope with all these ‘disappointments’ in UK and yet be strong and supportive of her. At the worse times of her depression, she would call me up to 6 times a day, telling me how she hated herself, hated life, wished she was dead, and had attempted to make that a reality. I felt completely helpless. Worse still, at the end of each month, when the phone bill arrived, I could be sure that I would receive a ‘poison’ email blaming me for the numerous phone calls! She called me so many terrible things that I remember becoming so callous and thinking that no one could possibly say anything that could hurt me. I also remember breaking down at numerous points because of the strain, especially during the examination periods. But what could I do? I was so many miles away. I couldn’t possibly walk out on her could I? So I tried, as much as possible, to keep everything inside. I guess being from a Conservative (Fundamentalist) church helped (after all they continuously frown at the emotionally-driven Charismatics).

Eventually, we broke up after more than 3 years together. Suddenly that bottle that I kept all these emotions in broke along with it and I started to feel all these raw emotions. I was on the verge of depression myself.

Then came the events that finally pushed me over. I met K and we got attached. She was someone in my church and looked and played the part of an angel. She was an amazing pianist, looked like the sweetest thing, but alas, it was too good to be true. It was a very destructive relationship. She was a ‘nymph’ and evidently was attached to someone in Singapore at the time. So naturally, it ended bitterly. But that wasn’t the end of it. Then came the aggressive smear campaign. Naturally, she managed to get a substantial amount of support (after all, she looked and behaved like an angel and I do look like a rebel without a cause). That, as well as all the events mentioned above, was just what I needed to push me over the edge. I myself fell into depression and became suicidal.

To cut the story short, I came to a point where I decided I had to get out of it and subsequently I willed myself out of it. However, I haven’t been the same since. I am still calloused and, as a result of all the pain suffered, feel unable to love or care for others. In an effort to prevent the past from repeating itself, I have gone to the other extreme – I don’t let anyone in and don’t allow myself to invest in anyone (with one exception – my cousin – which backfired drastically and has since reaffirmed my commitment to not care for anyone). I suppose this is one reason why I have decided to be single (for the most part) for the last few years (although some people refuse to believe me).

OK. Fast-forward to today.

I’ve kind of made a rather uncharacteristic decision today (by present standards) with the help of my sister, I volunteered – decided to invest my time and effort into others again.

At the very least, I will be helping the Hearing Impaired group. I used to work as a Sign Language Interpreter and so I would have an immediate and natural place to start. I noticed how the people manning that particular booth were all hearing impaired. As such they weren’t able to communicate effectively with patrons and as a result, many left. It’s a start. Perhaps in due time I would regain the ability to care for others – regain that portion of myself.

I guess.. Only time will tell..