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I was born a third-generation Chinese in the Islamic state of Brunei on Borneo island. I and my seven brothers and sisters grew up in a traditional Chinese home which practised ancestor worship. We valued very much our traditional beliefs, and we had no desire to embrace a new faith such as Christianity. Yet, when I was growing up, I had a constant fear of the spirits. This is partly because of my family upbringing and partly because the environment in Brunei was such that almost everyone there believes in the spiritual realm.
By the time I came to Canada in 1983, however, I had become an agnostic. I no longer believed in the spiritual world but only in myself, relying on my own strength to make things better.
After studying at various places in Canada, I ended up in Vancouver in the summer of 1985, enrolled as a student at the University of British Columbia. In early 1986, a classmate invited me to a meeting at a Mennonite Brethren church. At first, I was reluctant to go, but I could not find any excuse to turn him down, so I went with him. That marked the first time in my life that I had ever entered a Christian church.
As far as I can recall, the meeting at the church that night was for the most part quite boring. I remember little about the content of that meeting, and I was at a complete loss as to what they were trying to tell me. However, what happened next had a great impact on my life. After the meeting, someone ushered us down to the basement for refreshments. There were about 100 young people at the meeting. When we were all downstairs, someone yelled out, “Let’s pray before we eat!” To my horror, everyone around me bowed their heads, and someone started to pray. He prayed as if God was in the room, and I was terrified.
Two thoughts quickly came to my mind. First, I thought, “These people must be crazy!” But quickly I realized that they could not be crazy because some of them were my classmates. We studied together, and I knew that they were smarter than me. My second thought was, “If they are not crazy, then there must be a God!” The thought intrigued me. I began to wonder, and I asked myself, “If there is a God, how come I do not know Him like they do? How is it that they can talk to Him and I cannot?” Looking back, I realize I was jealous of them that they could have such an intimate relationship with God.
From that night on, I started to seek God. I started to read the Bible every night. For six months, nobody tried to convert me to Christianity. They just left me alone.
Four months into this exercise, on a Good Friday, I was in my apartment. When I turned on the TV, I discovered that the Jesus film was on the French channel. I did not know any French, but I enthusiastically opened my Bible and followed the story along. When I saw the scene where Jesus Christ was nailed to the cross, I did not know why, but I began to cry. For the first time in my life, I felt that Jesus was special. Two months later, in a summer camp, I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Saviour. That same year, I was baptized as a Christian.
Over the next year, even though I claimed to be a Christian, I was content to live my own life, and did not want to be ruled completely by God. However, things began to change in 1992. My life was coming apart, and I began to doubt my own strength. Feeling completely helpless, I began to read the Bible and pray even more fervently. One night, as I knelt before God in my dark apartment, I started to cry. As I thought about Christ’s suffering on the cross, the love of God overwhelmed me. For the first time in my life, I truly experienced God’s love for me. It was no longer just in my head but also in my heart that I experienced how deep and wide the love of God is. I decided that I must live my whole life for Him.
This experience marked the turning point in my spiritual life. I found that I loved to share the good news about Jesus with others, and I longed for people to know God. I also found that my world views had changed. I enjoyed my job, but I could no longer find satisfaction in it. Sometimes I felt that my real job only began when I went out after work to tell people about Jesus. I also found that material wealth no longer attracted me. Therefore, I began to contemplate entering into full-time Christian ministry, and I began to pray earnestly for God’s guidance.
In the summer of 1993, I was in Panama because my maternal grandfather, whom I had not seen in more than 10 years, was seriously ill. I went there hoping to tell him about Jesus. When I was in Panama, God allowed me not only to talk about Jesus to my dying grandfather, but also to many other people there. I was shocked to realize that there were many people who had never heard of Jesus Christ before. The people were so responsive that I began to wonder why there were not more full-time Christian workers to tell people about Jesus. I was deeply troubled, and I kept asking the question, “If the people are so willing to accept Jesus Christ, where are the messengers?” After I had come back to Canada, God continued to impress that question upon my heart. After about a year, I yielded to God and decided to go into full-time Christian ministry. The call was so clear that I never doubted about what my future ministry would be. When I quit my job in 1995, my colleagues asked me why I would do this. I told them, “For seven-and-a-half years, I have been saving computers, but now I would rather save souls!”
I have now graduated from a Christian seminary, and I have become the founding pastor of a new church composed of Mandarin-speaking Chinese people. All this is only possible because of the love of God.
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Leo and Helen Chia are pastor couple of Pacific Grace Mandarin Church in Port Moody, B.C. |
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