Aun Quek
Chin—Singapore
A BOYS SPIRITUAL AWAKENING
I grew up
in the church at Kulim, a town in the state of Kedah in north Malaysia. Back
then, we had no deacons or sermon speakers, so deacons from other churches in
the state would be sent to Kulim to conduct services. Every Sabbath, my family
would travel an hour by bus to church. But there were times when—after a long
wait—we would find out that the assigned deacon could not make it. In those
instances, we would simply pray together and then go home. If no one turned up
within half an hour, then it was likely that there would be no service that
week. Seeing this state of affairs, I told myself that, when I finished my
studies, I would become a preacher to help deliver sermons and pastor the flock
of God.
When I was
around fifteen, in my third year of high school, I attended a spiritual
meeting. At this meeting, Elder John Yang from Taiwan spoke on the judgment of
the last day from the Book of Revelation. His sermons really stirred us and
made us realize how close the day of the Lord was. We suddenly felt the urgency
to receive the Holy Spirit, otherwise we would not be able to enter the kingdom
of God. We prayed earnestly during the many prayer sessions, and by the final
session, I was the only one who had not received the Holy Spirit.
Receiving the Holy Spirit
During
the final prayer session dedicated to praying for the Holy Spirit, everyone was
interceding for me. I was very touched, despite my anxiety, to hear their pleas
on my behalf. However, after a while, my sense of urgency decreased when I
realized that the last day would not come immediately and I would still have
time to pray for the Holy Spirit. Then, it occurred to me that without the Holy
Spirit, I would not be accepted to train as a full-time preacher. My anxiety
levels rose again because I really wanted to pastor the church. I pleaded with
the Lord Jesus, O Lord, please give me the Holy Spirit. Otherwise, there is no
way I can become a preacher to pastor your flock.
As I
prayed in this manner, suddenly, a deep sorrow welled up within me. The Lords
words came to mind, Are you willing to suffer as a
preacher? In those days, a preachers life was a hard
one. As the believers were very poor, the church could not afford to pay the
preachers much. In addition, not all church leaders supported the idea of
having full-time evangelists. Because all church workers in Malaysia at that
time were volunteers who served the church in their spare time, they could not
understand why a preacher could not do the same.
Even so,
I told the Lord that I was willing. I wanted to pastor the flock of God. I was
afraid of neither difficulties nor poverty. I was then moved by the Holy
Spirit. I cried so hard that I could not pray properly. When that prayer ended,
my friends beside me were certain I had received the Holy Spirit. They had
heard me speaking in tongues, but I could not be sure because I had been crying
during the prayer.
In the
next prayer, all my doubts disappeared when I clearly spoke in tongues. I was
joyful but, at the same time, I felt some stress. Since God had granted me the
Holy Spirit, I had to fulfill my part by offering myself for full-time
ministry. Ahead of me would be poverty and the opposition of those who did not
believe in having full-time preachers.
A YOUTHS PREPARATION AND
CRISES
Sermon Speaking and
Religious Education
Returning
home after the spiritual meeting, I changed my aim in life. I no longer focused
solely on my studies and the pursuit of wealth. In order to equip myself to be
a preacher, I consistently read the Bible and church publications. In order to
practice sermon speaking, I started a nightly family service. I made my younger
siblings sit and listen to me speak. My parents were also supportive and would
often attend the service. At the same time, I took the initiative to start
religious education classes at home, roping in my siblings and cousins to be my
students.
Loss of Motivation
That was
how I started preparing myself, but such fervor did not last. My enthusiasm
gradually waned because I had no one to encourage and guide me. Those little
ones came to listen to me only because I forced them to, so I felt less and
less motivated to speak. As my faith grew colder, I returned to my old
ambitions to do well in my studies, to graduate, to work, and to escape
poverty. After I had established myself, then I would think about how to help
the church.
My mother
saw the change in me and thus gently reminded me, saying, It
has been some time since we had a family service. We still held a nightly
service, but we would just pray—there was no more hymn singing or sermon
speaking. My mother added, Do you realize that your
prayer is different from the past? Is there something wrong? Although I knew
clearly what was wrong, I did not reply.
A Warning Vision
One
night, I was very tired so I decided to have an early
night. As it was only 7 pm, my mother asked through my closed bedroom door if I
was sick. Before I could reply, I heard a frightening cry, like from a horror
movie. I tried to open my eyes and get up, but I could not do either. I have
had nightmares before in which I could not move, but after some time, I would
wake up and realize it was a dream. This experience was different. I had just lay
on the bed, and was not yet asleep. I heard my mother
clearly but could not answer her. Because I had not replied, she called out
again—I was hoping she would come into my room, but instead, she just remained
outside, grumbling to herself.
The
terrifying voice grew louder and sounded like it was approaching me. I felt
like I was being dragged out of bed, and I fainted from the shock. When I
regained consciousness, I found myself walking down a dark road, or rather,
being dragged along it. Human wails came from both sides, but it was so dark I
could not even see my own fingers, let alone see who was wailing. I did not
think that I had been taken to hell. Neither could it be judgment day because
the Bible describes the last judgement and hell as a lake of fire, and this did
not match my surroundings. So I wondered to myself,
What place is this?
Later, I
was taken to a brighter place. There was a queue, so I joined it. Facing the
queue was a man clothed in black. He held a sword shaped like a fish bone. When
those in the queue reached the front, other black-hooded men would drag them
before this man. He would then stab them with his fish-bone sword. The scene
was so vivid that I still remember it today. What was even more haunting were
the cries of those who had been stabbed. They would fall to the ground,
writhing and wailing, but they could not die. I knew with a sense of dread that
I was going to be the last one.
By then,
I was praying extremely fervently. I repented before the Lord and asked for
forgiveness. I told the Lord I no longer wanted the mortarboard or wealth; I
just wanted to become a preacher. As I kept praying, repenting of my sins, a
light suddenly shone down. The cacophonous wailing stopped. And from the source
of the light emerged melodious music, as if there was a large group of people
singing; the music slowly drifted over to me. I thought, The Lord has answered
my prayers. I waited for the Lord to save me. That anticipation caused
overwhelming joy to well up within me. I felt deeply blessed to have the Lord
as my Savior—I had seen how people suffered because they did not have the
Savior to save them. A cloud hovered above my head. I was so excited, thinking
this would be my moment of salvation. But the cloud drifted away. I was
devastated—the Lord had left me behind. In fear and sadness, I cried out, O
Lord! Save me!
It was
then that my mother ran into my room. What happened? she asked anxiously, Why are you shouting?
I
replied, Nothing happened. But let us pray.
When I
knelt down to pray, I was filled with the Holy Spirit. I felt like an abandoned
baby who was suddenly saved. I was filled with joy, but a tinge of fear
remained. In fact, so intense was the fear of abandonment, I can still feel it
today.
As we
continued to pray, I wept aloud. My prayer was so loud that my nearest neighbour, whose house was about two hundred meters away,
could hear me. The following day, she asked my mother what had happened to me
to make me cry so piteously. From that day onwards, we resumed our family
services with sermon speaking and hymn singing. On my part, I readjusted my
ambitions and direction in life. I no longer aimed to graduate and attain great
wealth; I no longer sought the material pleasures the world could offer. I just
resolved to be a good preacher.
Test of Resolution
Since the
minimum requirement to become a full-time preacher was a high school
certificate, I planned to apply for preacher training on my graduation from
high school. But when the time came, I did not register because I had found a
good job in tin mining. It was easy work with a high wage. No formal
qualifications were required, but it was dangerous work.[1]
I was
paid $600 per month. For comparison, a primary school teacher was paid $300 per
month, and a full-time preacher started at $60 per month. When I told my mother
that I wanted to become a full-time preacher, she asked me to consider
carefully. She thought that I would be better off working at my full-time
secular job and helping out part-time in sermon speaking. My monthly salary was
a huge contribution to our family finances. However, my mother left the
decision to me.
I thus
told the Lord Jesus that, because my siblings were still young, I wanted to
work for a few years to support my family before becoming a full-time preacher.
Moreover, the concept of a full-time preacher employed by the church was still
not well accepted. I told myself that perhaps the time was not right yet, and I
continued in my secular career.
A PREACHERS CALL AND
TESTING
Motivation
One day
at work, I heard a sheep bleating. I wondered who would rear sheep in such a
deep mining pit; perhaps a lost sheep had wandered to our mine. I worked in the
engine room and was in charge of switching on (or off) the water supply for the
monitor pump when instructed. Hearing the sheeps
bleating, I stood up and left the engine room to take a look. To my surprise, I
saw a sheep right in front of me. But when I looked again, it was gone. Since I
could still hear its bleating, I took another careful look in case it had run
off at my approach. The sound was very clear—a continuous and pitiful cry—and I
felt a deep sorrow. I even went out to the top of the hill (where the engine
room was located) just in case the sheep had wandered there. But I could find
no sheep.
Suddenly,
I felt a pain in my heart. It seemed as if someone was singing the hymn, The
Ninety and Nine,[2] within me. The first verse goes:
There
were ninety and nine that safely lay in the shelter of the fold.
But one
was out on the hills away far off from the gates of gold.
Away on
the mountains wild and bare, away from the tender shepherds
care...
The voice
within me kept echoing, Away on the mountains wild and bare.
I
understood. In order to help my family, I had delayed applying to train as a
preacher. However, in the house of God, there were many who needed pastoring. I
had only thought of my own family, I had not considered the house of God. My
family was poor, but no one had yet lost their physical or spiritual lives. In
the house of God, many sheep had already gone astray. If there were no shepherd
to pastor them, they would sin and die spiritually.
At that
point, I resolved to join the ministry. My colleagues and my boss asked why I
suddenly quit when I was doing well at work. They were anxious to retain me
because few youths were willing to work so far from the city, in a quiet place
with nothing much to do. They initially thought I had found a lucrative job,
but when I told them I was quitting my $600-per-month job to earn $60, they
laughed and asked whether I was mad. I reassured them I was not.
Application
In 1972,
at the age of nineteen, I lodged my application to be a trainee preacher with
my home church of Kulim. This was accepted at a meeting of Malaysias
northern region churches. They decided that I should shadow and learn from the
deacons as they went about their pastoral work. The General Assembly (GA) of
West Malaysia and Singapore would discuss my application at the annual year-end
delegates conference. In the meantime, I was sent to different towns to deliver
sermons.
By the
end of 1972, at the Annual Delegates Conference, the meeting attendees could
not reach a consensus over my application. Church leaders who had opposed the churchs employment of full-time preachers continued to
oppose the approval of my application. However, some supported my application.
Finally, two elderly ministers suggested, Why dont we allow him to work in the West Malaysia and
Singapore churches for two years? For one thing, it will allow us to get to
know him better. And for another, it will be a test of his resolve, so we can
judge whether he is suitable to be a preacher.
Acceptance
Hence, in
1973, I was officially appointed to minister the churches in West Malaysia and
Singapore. A year later, my application to train as a full-time preacher was
accepted at another GA meeting; my original probation of two years was
effectively cut to one. In 1974, I was sent to Taiwan to attend the theological
course.
I was the
first church-funded preacher from West Malaysia to participate in the
theological course. It was also the first time the Malaysian churches had
started training a full-time preacher. Two sisters from Malaysia had gone to
Taiwan to participate in the theological course a few years before. However,
both of them were self-funded.[3]
Challenge
It was
not easy to be the first theological student in Malaysia because of the churchs financial situation. A trainee preacher had to be
prepared to suffer financially and even psychologically. For instance, I was
regularly asked why an able-bodied young man like myself could not make my own
living—was I not ashamed to depend on the church to support me? Some questioned
whether I took up full-time ministry because I could not further my studies.
My wife
and I had to suffer these hardships but neither of us regret my service as a
preacher. Although we faced opposition and disdain, the Lord never spurned our
offering.
The Lords Abidance through
Dark Valleys
There
were many occasions when I was discouraged and wanted to give up. I did not
want my wife to have to suffer this unfair treatment, so, at one point, I
decided to leave the full-time ministry. I knew that this would disappoint the
Lord because He had guided and helped me all along the way. But by then, I had
had enough. I asked the Lord to forgive my decision. Although I felt guilty, I
really could not imagine having to suffer these hardships for the rest of my
life.
As all
these thoughts were running through my mind during prayer, the image of the
Lord Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane came to mind. The words of Jesus
sounded in my heart, Can you not suffer with Me for a
moment longer? Moved by the Holy Spirit, I wept. Of course, I gave up that
decision. Had the Lord not always helped me, I would have given up long ago.
There was
also a time—spanning a few years—when I went through an especially difficult
time. My sister was suffering the last stage of cancer, and her pain was so
excruciating she would cry out loud. It broke my heart to see her in pain. I
had interceded, even with fasting, and asked the Lord to lessen her pain but
apparently to no avail. Some seized that moment to criticize me. At that time,
the International Assembly of the True Jesus Church was grappling with the case
of a preacher who had committed many misdemeanors. This preacher enjoyed a high
profile and many supporters. As I had openly spoken out against his conduct, I
was accused of maligning him because of my jealousy. They even cited all the
grief I was suffering—my wifes miscarriage, my fathers demise, and my sisters painful cancer—as evidence
that I was wrong to speak up against him.
It would
have been easier for me to adopt a neutral, self-protective stance—to keep
quiet and allow this (now) ex-preacher to continue speaking sermons and
conducting Holy Communion. But as a servant of the church, it was my
responsibility to take care of the church. So I spoke
out. Yet in trying to do the right thing, I was seen as the wrongdoer. It was
indeed suffering upon suffering.
Honestly,
I did not even know what to tell the Lord during prayer. I could not cease praying
but I literally did not know how to pray. Often, I just knelt there silently,
almost as if I were giving the Lord the cold shoulder. But I was not—I simply
did not know what else to do or say. I continued to kneel before Him because He
was the only One I could rely on. In my grief, I finally grumbled to Him, Why should I suffer these things? Have I not suffered
enough? You have not helped me!
Suddenly,
the image of the Lord nailed on the cross appeared before me. I saw people
taking something to the Lord, but He did not accept it. The Bible records that
after they crucified the Lord Jesus, the Roman soldiers gave Him vinegar mixed
with myrrh. This mixture was intended to reduce His physical agony on the cross—an
act of compassion from the soldiers. But the Lord refused because He had to
suffer on our behalf.
I
immediately understood. My sister could reduce her pain by increasing her
dosage of painkillers. But she knew that this came at the cost of shortening
her life further, so she just endured the pain. My vision helped me explain to
my sister, This is the suffering that our Lord wants
us to go through. During His crucifixion, He could have reduced His pain, but
He did not do so, for our sakes. If we are suffering today, and there is
nothing to stop us from relieving our suffering, then we should thank the Lord.
From that
time onwards, I no longer grumbled; I only hoped for the Lords will to be
fulfilled. That period was a great trial for me, but the Lord helped me again
and again. His love and comfort enabled me to persevere to the very end.
A RETIRED PREACHERS
GRATITUDE FOR GRACE
When I
look back and see how I was able to last until the end of my official tenure as
a full-time minister, I can see Gods preservation and Gods
grace. I offered up my youth for the Lord, but He allowed me to enjoy the
latter years of my life with my wife. Throughout these many years, I have
indeed experienced much of Gods grace. It is the Lord
who led us personally through those difficult days.
Today, in
my retirement, God has given me a more peaceful life. I may not know what
tomorrow will bring but I know that the Lord will be there to guide me. The
Lord will guide all of us through all the tomorrows He has prepared for us. I
was willing to put my hand into the Lords nail-scarred hands and let Him
lead. Are you willing?