I was born July 31, 1979 in the province of San Francisco de Malabon in General Trias Cavite, Philippines. This city was one of the first settlements made by the Spanish explorers. After three hundred years of Spanish rule, a small group of Filipino patriots planned and executed a revolution to gain independence from Spain. Among these was Artemio Ricarte, a school teacher who wanted more than anything to see his people on their land living freely. He was my great grandfather. He hosted the secret meetings of the Filipino rebels in his house. The house my father inherited. Our house.
My family, as with the majority of Filipinos, were Catholic. Though I’d challenge you to find a Filipino who truly understood their religion. Nominal Catholics mostly. We went to Sunday Mass regularly, and visited the convent often. I remember being baby-sat by a couple of nuns. With all that, you’d expect that I was a good little Catholic boy. I wasn’t. I did not identify with it. Even at the age of five, I was aware that it was my parent’s religion. It was not mine.
By the time I was seven years old, my family had moved to the United States. We lived in Virginia Beach, VA. We were off in search of a better life. My parents sacrificed their prestige and position in the Philippines so that my sisters and I would have the opportunities that were give to us. It has always impressed me when I think of their loss for the sake of our gain. My family left the Philippines behind, the food, the weather, the traditions, and even the religion. Though we could have easily found their counterparts in America, for some reason we didn’t. We all began the slow process of becoming Americans. My sisters and I took to it well, becoming introduced to MTV and HBO early on sure helped. My mom and dad however, are still a work in progress.
There was so much to learn and so much to see. I was curious about everything. I had made friends from so many different cultural backgrounds. I ate their foods, listened to their music, and watched them pray to their gods. I learned a lot. I learned that there were many many more ways to see and go through life than what I originally was taught. But more importantly, I learned that I didn’t have a path for myself.
When Junior High came along, I was on my way to finding my path to life. It was a difficult and very confusing time. I had close friends, who were all different. One was a Catholic (nominal), as I was. Another was Protestant (which I confused as the American version of Catholicism. Another was Muslim. And one was Buddhist. They were all great friends. They were all convinced of their religions. I was envious of them because of that. So, I tested them out, the religions and gods of my friends, hoping to find something that made sense.
I spent all of Junior High and some of High School trying to find a religion for myself. As I looked into the religions of my friends, I found that they had some things in common. They were all about working hard to appease their gods, to avoid punishment or gain some fantastic reward. There were rituals and obligations that they had to keep constantly. I didn’t much like the idea of performing for a god so that I wouldn’t be struck down or changed into a snail or slug, or so that I would be one with god in eternity or have forty virgins in heaven. These were all things that my friends believed in, or at least were told by their parents. The more I learned about them, and the more I got to know my friends, the more I realized that they could never be sure of the outcome of their life. They were obligated to walk on egg shells for their gods, fearing to come to the end of their life having made a mistake that would cost eternally. I thought to myself, “what a horrible way to live.”
By the time I was fifteen, I had made my conclusion regarding god and religion and life. It was all pointless, empty religious nonsense. I wouldn’t live for some god that I could never be sure to please. I would not limit myself to any dogmatic practices and beliefs. If god were real, and worthy of worship, religion would not be such a tyranny. I chose the path of atheism. Done.
But I wasn’t done. In my pursuit for a path I purposefully ignored my protestant friend. Why? Because I refused to even think of becoming a Jesus freak. In my opinion Christianity was the most absurd religion. These feeling came from my own experience with Catholicism. This is why I never read the Bible, I never listened to any evangelist, or never paid any attention when someone had me visit their church. I simply refused to let it into my life. It wasn’t worth the energy.
But I am not ashamed to say, that today, I am a born again believer in Jesus Christ. I am a Christian. I am a Jesus freak. I am a Bible Thumper.
When I was sixteen, only a year after I decided to forsake all religion, I agreed to go camping with my Christian friend. The only reason I agreed to go with him was because of the prospect of meeting a girl. There’s always a girl. So I went to a Christian Youth Camp. There, I came face to face with myself and understood where I was in life and the God I ignored.
I realized that in all the time I was searching for a path to life, I was rejecting God. I refused to read the Bible, I refused to listen to any kind of preaching or teaching regarding Jesus Christ. I refused because I was convinced that it was all foolishness. I based my opinions on the experience I had as a little boy and what I’ve seen on TV. I never made my own conclusions about the issue. I merely listened to the rest of the world. Lemming-like. I spent so much time and energy studying and looking into the workings of other religions, honestly forming my own conclusions about them, but my stubbornness and pride kept me from learning about the God of the Bible.
But I did learn. I learned that Christianity was unlike any other religion. True there are many similarities, but at the core, Christianity is far removed from all other beliefs. I concluded that it is not a religion at all. I was right when I saw other religions as endlessly working hard to appease their gods. That’s exactly what religion was. But the Bible doesn’t talk about working and performing for God in order to be rewarded. Instead it talks about a God who reaches down from heaven to have a relationship with mankind.
God loves you and I. He loved us before any of us were born. He loved us even when He knew ahead of time that we would reject Him. He loved us so much that He made provisions for a relationship with Him.
The Bible says, “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him. He who believes in Him is not judged; he who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.”
God sent His holy Son to earth, to live as one of us, Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ died on the cross so that God may be able to pour out the judgement that each person deserves for the sin in our lives. Every bit of punishment that mankind deserved, God held it back until Jesus was up on that cross. God poured it out on Jesus. Jesus, took it all on Himself and died in our place so that we wouldn’t have to. Then, by God’s power Jesus Christ resurrected from the grave. He conquered death itself, bringing hope for new life to the world.
So, if we admit and confess to our undeniable sinfulness to God and believe in hearts that Jesus is the Lord, the Bible says that we will share in the new life that Jesus Christ has. This will bring us into a relationship with God so that we can be as children to Him. It’s not religion at all. It’s a new potential to life, secure and significant in the eyes of God.
I realized that six days after my sixteenth birthday. That was when I was born again to a living hope.
