Today was Communion Sunday

Today was communion Sunday. Instead of going to the Corinthians passage, this week the pastor was reading from Hebrews 10:10-22. v. 10“And by that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” And the pastor went on to talk about the sacrifice of Jesus and that we are also to live a sacrificial life, a life whereby you sacrifice yourself, sacrifice to live the life that Christ calls you to live.

At that point I was disappointed with myself. To add on to that, while taking the bread and the cup, the song, ‘The Old Rugged Cross’ was played as the background music while the communion was being prepared. At the chorus, ‘So i’ll cherish the old rugged cross, till my trophies at last I lay down. I will cling to the old rugged cross and exchange it someday for a crown.’ I cannot help but was distressed with myself.

Just the previous night, I was talking to a friend from my country for a long time and I was expressing that I am missing Singapore and that I would still want to go back. I also realised that even when I was buying clothes, I chose clothes with designs that are acceptable in Singapore and that I will still want to wear them when I am back. I also recalled telling my cousin last June that I will probably help out in India for a few years and return to my comfort zone. I guess this is not wrong but I do not consider this as living a sacrificial life as Jesus did and carrying the old rugged cross but rather having a will of my own instead of laying my life at the altar of Jesus and waiting for His command and be ready to obey it. When singing the song, my mind was just thinking that if carrying the cross is to exchange for a crown, I don’t mind having a small crown and going back to my comfort zone at my own will.

Two days ago I was on a cycle rickshaw and witnessed the oppression of the lower caste, the rickshaw cyclist. Here, one of the common public transportation is cycle rickshaw and auto rickshaw. This rickshaw cyclist turned into the road that leads to my colony and there was a bad jam at that timing (I didn’t know). We were waiting for the traffic to ease so that we could move on. Then, I witnessed a motorbike calling out to this rickshaw cyclist, I could not make out what he was trying to tell him but his gesture and body language was telling the cyclist to give way. We were all jammed up, and he just demanded him to move so that he could cross over. There was actually a puddle of water right beside where the rickshaw was and it was not easy for him to move, but he had no choice as this motor biker was talking to him in a way that I felt was more like a command than a favour. Just because he was a rickshaw cyclist! If it had been someone else or another higher class vehicle in the same situation, the motor biker would not have had the audacity to ask that vehicle to move!

Shortly after the motor biker moved, another vehicle, now a van was squeezing his way through as the traffic was easing a little, in fact, he was the one who should not come into our lane, nevertheless he did and again he commanded the rickshaw cyclist to move aside so that he could pass! And it was again in a belittling way. My heart went out to the rickshaw cyclist who did not have a choice but oppressed to do what was told.


Oppression here is prevalent and the oppressors ‘enjoy’ oppressing while the oppressed had not a voice and even if they had a voice, it is not heard and addressed. On that day after I dropped from the rickshaw my heart went out to the marginalised. And I recalled in Isa 61:1 that the Lord wants the good news to be preached to the poor. And I was feeling glad that I am here. But I was also thinking that even if the poor comes to know Jesus, how much of the oppression can be elevated from them? Here in India, not much probably, and more likely, none. However, I was enlightened to the fact that they get to have justice and to live freely without any subjugation and in eternal bliss when the Lord brings them home. Moreover, they can also then live with a hope and a changed attitude towards this subservient life. And I was glad I am into the work of bringing hope to the poor right where I am.


To my displeasure, as I was reflecting over the happenings of these few days at Holy Communion, though was indignant over the oppression of the poor, I was still thinking of going back to my comfort zone. How much of the old rugged cross am I carrying?