This past weekend, about 20 of us from CSUEB Koinonia took a trip out to Yosemite. The temperature hit 80 both days so the weather was great, and the trip was a welcome break from school! While we were there, we took some easy hikes out to Bridalveil and Lower Yosemite Falls, and some tougher hikes up to Vernal and Nevada Falls.

I couldn’t join the rest of the group on the more strenuous hikes because of a bad knee, but I thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful work God did in Yosemite. I couldn’t take my eyes off the MASSIVE hunks of rock like Half Dome and El Capitan, the many subtle shades of green of trees that colored the landscape, the creamy white petals of the dogwood flowers that surrounded Curry Village, the vibrant red, orange and purple that painted the sky at sunset… I was awestruck; Yosemite really reflects God’s creative pleasure and artistry, and I marveled at the beauty of a God who created such a place for us to enjoy. As I was taking in the scenery, I was reminded of Psalm 8: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him? You made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor.” The truth is that even though God made such an awesome place as Yosemite, his most valued creation is us! I’m amazed to know that the God who is majestic is also the God who cares for each of us, that whatever my sins, failures and shortcomings, the beauty and goodness of his character are steadfast. I think many of us returned home refreshed by our time of bonding in the great outdoors, and strengthened by the reality of His presence through Yosemite.

Click here to read Bo's full testimony.

When I was in China, I had never imagined myself becoming religious. The Communist ideal was my ‘religion’, and I simply dismissed Christianity as a fanciful interpretation of what science had yet to explain, a self-reassuring way of seeking mental and emotional support. Life was smooth sailing both at home and school. A scholarship to study in Singapore, loving parents and friends – I thought I would never need Christ.

Then I moved to Singapore for high school. Like everyone else, I was looking for an identity. Since I had a hard time fitting in as a foreign student, I chose to be a thinker -- quiet, aloof, and looking smart. I asked myself those big questions in life and tried to answer them through philosophy readings. It was a torture I brought upon myself, just to appear sophisticated before others. Confused about the conflicting theories I read, I was trapped in the “thinker” identity. I had to find the answers, and if logic and reasoning weren’t working, then maybe, there was a higher transcendence, a God. It was around then when some of my Christian friends invited me to attend their worship services. I had to admit that there was something different about my Christian friends. And if their God could make them so unusually humble, earnest and forgiving, then I had to find out more about this God. So I finally accepted their invitation.

Then I came to Berkeley and got to know about acts2fellowship. Pastor Ed’s messages brought face to face with the consequences of my sin. I saw myself trying to put on different “faces” in front of others, and in the process lost my integrity as a person. I saw that sin really meant serving myself and as long as I was my own master, I could not serve God fully. All the while people had been telling me that I was a good student, a good friend and a good son, but deep inside, I knew I was not. I was another person, full of self-preserving pride and fear of commitment. It hurt to see my iniquities, a part of me that I could not discard.

Through Course 101 and the book Case for Faith, I was able to address many of my doubts and questions regarding Christianity. Gradually I came to a point where nothing held me back intellectually; it was up to my willingness to respond and restore this relationship with God, which I had kept breaking. It all made sense in theory: my sinful nature was keeping me from responding to God; I must lay down my cynicism and defense mechanism, expose my wretched self, and trust in Him for forgiveness. But I just could not overcome the doubt in myself. My heart was unstable as water. Then I watched the Passion movie. I could see myself standing in the crowd, who watched Jesus being tortured and crucified; they were not unmoved, yet they were so afraid of going against the social pressure to acknowledge Christ and commit to him. I could live my life like them, hiding in the crowd, going with the flow, liking his healing miracles but not wanting him to govern over my life, and always taking the easy way out so that I didn’t have to confront anything. I was filled with shame for my brokenness, but at the same time I was overwhelmed by the love of Christ, who at his last breath prayed for the exact man that pinned him on the cross.

It was another invitation to a relationship with God. There is no relationship that comes at a greater price than this, for Jesus willingly died for me on the cross. And there is no relationship more personal than this, for He knows my every sin, better than I know myself. After all my failures, He still calls me His son and beckons me home. If I didn’t accept the invitation, I would go on living a life unable to commit to anyone but myself. That’s not the way I wanted to live my life; that’s not a way God wanted me to live. I had to accept Him, and I did, on the Easter Sunday of 2004.

Click here for Roy's full story

I celebrated my first American Christmas in Houston, Texas in the winter of 1992, mere weeks after first setting foot in this strange and seemingly unreceptive land. As a ten-year-old FOB, I would spend the next four years in what I, at the time, would best describe as a living hell. In a country whose customs were as foreign to me as its language, I had already felt excruciatingly out of my element without having to face the daily barrage of racial taunts and slurs. As I grew up with these very same people throughout my middle and high school years, my title as a social outcast only burned deeper in my heart, and against such a hostile world I spent my time developing defenses that would annihilate all those who even dared to approach me. When it came time to decide on a college, I was ready to do anything to get as far away from Texas as I could. I wanted a fresh start where I can build a new image and a new life without being haunted by my past, and what better place to begin reinventing myself than Berkeley? I set out the summer before freshman year to redefine myself for social acceptance. I never did quite succeed, but little did I know then that I was about to find Someone who would love me for who I am.

I arrived at the Durant side of Unit 3 at 7:00 in the morning on move-in day for the express purpose of laying claim to that perfect corner of my triple before my two other roommates did so. While my mother searched for parking, I sat by the curb feeling exhausted, my mountain of worldly possessions next to me. Over my right shoulder, I heard a firm yet unimposing voice ask, “Hi, do you need any help?” I quickly accepted Richard’s help, with the condition that I would reciprocate the favor. After two trips, he proceeded to tell me, rather nonchalantly, of this organization he belonged to a Christian campus group. Coming from a devoutly atheistic family, I initially wanted nothing to do with this club, no matter how much meat they might have at their free barbecue. But I also came from a thoroughly Asian family, and my attention quickly turned to the word “free” instead. I also took into account the fact that Richard wanted no compensation for his labors other than having me going to consume free food at his expense. After we exchanged contact information and parted ways, I decided to give it a shot. After all, what harm could it do?

Because of the thought-provoking message I heard at that first New Student Welcome Night, I ended up attending Bible studies regularly that first semester. After that, I signed up for Course 101. The class focused much on the intellectual and historical basis for the Person of Jesus Christ that effectively convinced me that the New Testament was reliable, but I was still too arrogant to concede the truth of Jesus’ message. However, when I went to the TFN right before the winter retreat that semester, Pastor Ed delivered a deeply distressing message that really opened my eyes to the extent of man’s sinfulness and how hopeless the world would be without a Savior. Through his words I saw that the injustice of a cruel world was not the main source of my misery, but it was my sinful nature that would destroy even the most perfect paradise and all the people within it. Finally, the cross began to make sense, as I began to suspect that there is something deeply wrong about not only what I’ve done, but who I am at the core, and that my guilt from all the moral laws and self-imposed standards I’ve broken do not measure up to the deep offense and hurt I’ve caused my Creator God. For my cosmic treason, a price had to be paid, and if I had to pay it, I knew I was a marked man living on borrowed time. I decided that I needed some time alone to think things through. In my mind, I was at the point of no return. I could either accept the Bible’s painfully realistic stories of humanity, recognize that Jesus has full claim over my life by creation and redemption, and lose my life to save it, or I could close my eyes to the truth and continue trying to tighten my grip on my old, self-centered reality knowing that it will only slip further out of my hands, a chasing after the wind.

The home stretch leading to my decision began on Easter Sunday 2001, when I attended my first Sunday worship service. The message was on Luke 24, On the Road to Emmaus. I saw myself then, making that same journey away from home, slow of heart to believe, but Someone was there with me, opening the Scriptures to my heart, Someone whom I did not know but who knew me better than myself. I went home that day and prayed that God would help my unbelief. I was incredulous when I first found out that I could pray for such a thing, but could do little else.

The last two weeks of my old life were characterized by anxiety. I was about to cross over to a new life that seemed full of joy and pain at the same time, and I was uncertain how I would react to it. I continued to pray for faith. Perhaps everything I needed to know had already been revealed to me. I could do nothing but pray that the coming messages would be sufficient to help me make the biggest decision of my life. After the message on April 27, 2001, I asked to talk privately with my small group leader. I had made a list of half a dozen questions that were holding me back. I think I knew all the answers already, though, because I did not get past the second one before I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. It was the first time I ever cried for joy.

It is always a surreal experience to read my testimony and vividly recall what happened nearly six years ago. I did not know what I was getting myself into then, and I don’t know all that much more now. It has been six years sprinkled with many painful incidences through which God showed me His great love by not letting me sweep my sins and flaws under the rug, but forcing me to confront my true self, so that my old nature can be broken before Him and that He can put me back together in just the way He meant for me to be. Far from losing myself, I experienced finding my true self as God cut away all the corruption, filth, and pretense I had thought were a part of my self and revealed my true strengths, joys, dreams, and hopes within the boundaries of the life He prescribed for me. God, who calls things that are not as though they were, has called me to be His temple, a place where people can see that God is real and alive and makes a difference in the world, a source of refuge and blessing and good news.

Click here to read Irene's full testimony.

I’d say I’ve lived a pretty normal existence. Had my share of rebellion, but always placed as one of the so-called “good kids.” I was raised in the church and flourished as a part of the Christian culture. My parents, both Bible study teachers and my dad an elder, raised me as a leadership figure in the church. By my later high school years I was in praise band for four and a half years and held other various leadership roles in my youth group. Being so involved in church and spending the rest of my time with academics I had no “social life.” At school I was a nomad. I knew all of the groups from the fobs, the honors students, the jocks, to the gung-ho religious kids who prayed around the flagpole and praised instead of eating lunch at the given time. I never really had a core group of friends; I would just roam from group to group with a smile on my face and punches for anyone who wouldn’t hit me back. On the exterior in both realms I was seen as a hardworking happy go lucky kid that was physically abusive enough to hang with the guys, but pulled enough all niters to hang with the honors students. I was a wide range of facades and fronts but what was the truth? Who was the real Irene? I lived with questions like those constantly repeating over and over in my mind, never letting anyone know the real me. How could I, I didn’t know who the real me was.

I didn’t think much of how I would grow spiritually in college. I just assumed that I would fall into a church quickly and people would view me as always as the good little girl. I was already baptized at my home church, so what was there that needed to be questioned? I would serve as diligently as ever in my church and now do the things that I always wanted to do: party, drink, smoke, and hang out late into the night without my parents nagging at me; just like the leaders at my home church. They did what they desired and they would dress up nicely, come to church on the given days, and serve with passion. Scary how normal I thought all of that was.

Being challenged in so many different ways in my freshman year, I was at a point of huge conflict in my life. Week after week the messages always applied to my lost condition, and the stagnancy of my spiritual walk. After a Sunday message on John 5:1-15 about the man who was an invalid for 38 years and was waiting for healing at the pool, I realized that this was an amazingly accurate picture of me. I always used excuses and stories in order to not deal with the responsibilities I would have to take up if I was cured of my sin. No matter how many times Jesus was asking me “Do you want to get well?” my answer was always in forms of complaints and excuses. I could never say yes because I would have to then deal with the consequences. I questioned a lot of the perceptions that I had about myself. It was clear that I was straddling the fence of feeding my own selfish cravings for things in the world and of a life fully devoted to Christ. I was beginning to see how sick and perverted my views of morality within church were, but at the same time denied myself the opportunity to pull myself apart from it. I avoided making a true decision to follow Christ and to give my entire life for him because I wanted to have both worlds.

In the beginning of my sophomore year Pastor Ed spoke on the Samaritan woman in John 4. I had always brushed off this story because I had never been married so I always thought ‘what did this woman have to do with me?’ Then it became so clear to me that I was this woman, looking for love and acceptance everywhere except where it was. The point that was really driven home was that this woman was exposed of having multiple husbands and therefore was shunned by society. Knowing all of the sins in this woman’s life Jesus still came to her willing to give her his forgiveness and love. The significant difference between this woman and myself was that her sins were exposed for the world to see while mine I tried to keep hidden behind masks that other’s would accept. He loved her so much and it was just a matter of her exposing herself to him. I needed to be exposed for all my sins and I knew it but the debate only grew more deeply in my heart. I longed to be exposed as this woman was but I was too afraid and still clung to my churched background.

Thinking of all the praise that I led, the accountability groups where I acted so pious, and my unbelievable lack of Bible knowledge through it all, showed me that these were no more than fronts and masks I had put up hoping to fool all those around me and in the process fooling myself. How much I must have hurt God and been so disgusting in his eyes I cannot even comprehend. He could see the true me through all of this, he saw through my good girl masks and saw me for the rotting soul that I was and he still loved me and took care of me. He loved me despite my faults. I was the invalid next to the pool and the Samaritan woman at the well, and now I could see that so much clearer. God held me so dear to his heart and all I had been doing was pushing him away. How could I have been so prideful of something so disgusting? It took me this long to be able to even see through my own mask and although I was happy that I was finally able to see my reflection a bit more clearly, I knew that I had a long ways to go if I was going to break through all of my own facades and masks.

I finally realized the extent of my sins and that I needed God’s forgiveness and love through the cross. I checked the box committing my life to Christ. I could not just leave it at repenting, rather I understood that after coming to see my true self I needed God’s forgiveness and that it only came in the form of the cross. Christ’s love for me despite my sin was more than anything I could expect. Ultimately I was able to appreciate the true definition of Christ as MY savior. More and more throughout the semester I found mask on top of mask. I had never realized how much I had built up the layers, and message after message I knew that God was reminding me that a check in the box was not the end of the journey but just the beginning. I still struggle with the multiple voices in my head and the oversensitivity to all my relationships, but I am slowing understanding and realizing that God sent me to this place to learn and to be his loving daughter. Though there are many struggles and failures now I have an encouraging and familiar glimpse of my true identity, something that I lost or more accurately misplaced and covered up some time ago. Slowly I will try to tear away all the facades and fronts, fighting my desire to appease my hunger with social acceptance, but I know that none of this will be possible without God.

I had a small imagination of what God can do through the church in the area of service and growth. I never imagined some of the things that happened this year, especially through the development of our Sunday Worship Services and the avenues by which God has worked in Praxis ministry. What used to be Pastor Ed giving a message on stage in front of green drabby curtains is now a beautiful stage with lighting and curtain enhancements that incorporates into a regular message series. The enhanced Sunday Worship Service experience is a product of the outgrowth in Praxis ministry, with increased areas of service, not just through sound, lighting, and stage but also through the Welcome Team, Impact and Joyland. There was a newcomer who, after his first Sunday at Willard, said that he was so warmly received by the Welcome Team, he felt like he's been going to this church for a long time. I'm also amazed that 60 Oakland inner city children come on a weekly basis to join our Joyland children during Joyland large group time to hear the message of God's love and Jesus Christ, and to hear them reciting verses like 1 Corinthians 13 gives me such joy. In Praxis ministry, I also never imagined having montly convalescent home visits, where after regularly interacting with elderly who, most of the time, I find it very difficult to carry out a conversation, 4 of them end up receiving Jesus Christ as their personal Lord and Savior! God is wanting to stretch my mind in new areas of pouring my life out in response to the Great Commission and faithfully serving in various capacities.