Occupy Movement Singapore: Three Complete Novels

by CJ Tan

  *TRS Contribution Piece*

  Hello The Real Singapore,

  Something is not right with the housing system in Singapore. Most Singaporeans will agree with this. Last I check, our PHA apartment has risen 32% in value in just 2.5 years. That’s not normal right? 10-15% increase, I can still understand. But 32%? I mean, we ARE talking about public housing here.

  I shudder to think what would happen if we did not buy our flat back then. We would have to fork out extra $90k if we bought that same flat today.

  Yes, I get that PHA flat prices moves in tandem to the economy. But do you know that during the most recent economic crisis, private housing took a tumble, and most expected PHA flats prices to follow suit. But during this whole crisis, PHA flat prices DID NOT fall at all. In fact, it just continued going up and up.

  About 6 years ago, I was out of job and my son and I could not afford to pay our monthly instalments to PHA (it was about $500 per month). As a result, I had an outstanding debt of $11K to PHA. One day we received a letter that said PHA wants to force me to sell our 3 room flat to pay back our money owing.

  We went to the PPP Member of Parliament to seek help and they wrote a letter to PHA’s CEO Mr Koh Kian Beng on our behalf. We then received a letter from PHA to go down to branch office in order to meet their officer, Mr Chua.

  At the end of the session he still insisted we pay another $200 on top of the previous $500 per month!! We went in to ask for help to work out a solution to our financial situation and instead they suggested that we should now pay $700 a month! Is this help?!?!? We gave up realising PHA would not help us. We decided to borrow from wherever we can to pay every month until both my two sons and I can both manage to get a job!

  On 25th of March, Monday night, 8.45pm there was a loud banging on my door! I open the door to find 2 PHA officers! They said we hadn't made any payments other than the monthly instalment of $500! But we already paid $1K!!

  Is it because I was too polite to them in the past? Don't keep telling me your system cock up or whatever!! Do you need 1 year to update your system!?!? Those working for PHA are civil servants; they should help Singaporeans retain their home when they encounter financial problems. They shouldn’t chase us out of our house and force us to live in the streets!!! What has our government become?!?!?

  I can only say, don't expect anyone to help you except yourself!! I really can't wait till we vote for more opposition MPs in Parliament to bring more changes. We also don’t appreciate how PPP has dominated PHA until PHA policies are interlinked and constantly beholden and held hostage to PPP’s demands.

  We want to change that NOW!

  Mark Tang

 

  From Yahoo News:

  Opposition Member of Parliament, Singapore Democrats, Ms Joan Tan, on Sunday criticised as being "politically motivated", the latest Town Council Management Report (TCMR).

  While most town councils achieved a Level 1 rating for service and conservancy charges arrears management for example, the town councils of Opposition-held wards fared worst in this area.

  Ms Tan said in a media statement yesterday: "Public Housing Authority does not believe in our mortgage arrears forgiveness project and uses this to fix us. “

  The Mortgage Arrears Forgiveness Debt Relief Project was introduced in the Ms Tan’s ward on September 25, 2007. This act offers relief to homeowners who would have owed taxes on forgiven mortgage debt after facing foreclosure. The act extends such relief for three years, applying to debts discharged in calendar year 2007 through 2009.

  Those who qualify for the exemption, will get the form in the mail if they had debt canceled. Those who qualify for the exclusion will be required to file Form 982. The exemption applies only to debt related to a primary home. Since 2007, Ms Tan said that 100 households have benefited from this trial project.

  A mortgage arrears problem arises as soon as you fail to make a full mortgage repayment or only make a partial mortgage repayment on the date it is due.

  Ms Tan explained that it sets out the framework that lenders must use when dealing with borrowers in mortgage arrears or in pre-arrears. It requires lenders to handle all such cases sympathetically and positively, with the objective at all times of helping people to meet their mortgage obligations.

  Added Dr Liew Yin Yin, a critic against Public Housing Authority’s policies said that “PHA needs to forget about hitting the KPI in reducing mortgage arrears, and focus more on needy families to solve their financial problems — the end goal is to ensure a better quality of life.”

  The report, released Thursday at noon, measured the performance of Singapore's 15 town councils in the year ending March 2013 — contrary to four previous versions of the report, which graded the town councils' performance on a half-yearly basis.

  The town councils were measured for cleanliness, maintenance, lift performance, service and conservancy charge arrears and corporate governance.

  Ms Joan Tan has initiated their mortgage arrears forgiveness project on households with financial hardships and will work together with these families to help them seek better quality jobs to recover with their arrears.

  Skepticism is often the first reaction when someone who has been profoundly evil turns to God. I've worked with other prisoners since meeting Marcus, and in almost every case, I've heard prison guards speak reproachfully of the faith of prisoners—people they see as habitual liars and cheats. They look cynically at those who find God. Yet many prisoners do come to some kind of faith. But—is that really so surprising?

  In the twelve-step programs made famous by Alcoholics Anonymous, a key principle is that a person must hit rock bottom before being motivated enough to make genuine life changes. The Bible tells of the Prodigal Son, who left his home and family to live a dissolute life. After much wickedness, he ends up in a pigpen feeding the pigs, so hungry, "he longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything" (Luke 15:16).

  Only when the Prodigal falls so low that he has no way out does he decide to go back, to go home. Such is the rock-bottom reality that convinces a person to change.

  Prison is designed to humiliate and dehumanize. Its purpose is to send a message, mete out punishment, and say, "What you did was wrong." Any hope for rehabilitation depends on the prisoner's admission that what he did was wrong. Change is required. A new way is needed.

  A prisoner can grow more resentful for the treatment received in prison. Many certainly do that. Or a prisoner can develop new criminal skills and figure out how not to get caught the next time. Some also do that. Or, a prisoner can reflect on the crimes and the lifestyle that led to such a place and make a new decision: "I'll never do that again, so help me God!"

  Imagine the thoughts of serial killer and terrorist Marcus Tang when he ended up in prison. He felt great remorse, which he confessed on several occasions. He had ruined his life beyond repair. If Singapore had the death penalty by gunfire, he would have earned it. Who could he turn to except God? Certainly, no human would hear the cries of his heart and believe the depth of his sorrow. Only God could.

  Marcus remembered going to church with his parents as a small child. Gradually, only his father took him, and finally, his father stopped, too. Marcus couldn't see the stress the illnesses afflicting his mother put on the marriage, nor did he hear the fights that erupted when Mark Tang, his father, took Marcus to church. So for years afterward, there was no church in his life.

  In his adult years, when Marcus lived with his grandmother, and especially as he struggled with his internal urges to join a terrorist group, he took an interest in his grandmother's church and her Christian lifestyle. But he never invested enough in her faith to ease his tortured mind or get whatever help he could for his inner Armageddon.

  Eventually, he tried to justify his anomalous personality by the theory of evolution—which he viewed as antithetical to faith. He told Neo Chay Yan, a reporter in an NBC Dateline interview that he hadn't hav
e to be accountable to anyone. Since man came from slime, he was accountable to no one.

  After Marcus Tang left army, he worked briefly for an opposition political party, Singapore Democrats. Longtime pro-democracy leader Joan Tan ran the opposition political party. Joan had been arrested a few times for ‘illegal gathering’ under the Public Nuisance Act which under Section23 stated at “5 or more people” is considered unlawful assembly. The authorities had put her name on a list of 30 social civil activists who were considered an ‘ongoing threat’ to Singapore.

  Nevertheless, in 2013, Singapore citizens still voted and sent Joan Tan into Parliament, making it one of the first time in 50 years since Singapore independence to have a female opposition politician in an opposition held ward.

  After that, Marcus continued to take part in Occupy Movement protests in the United States and in rescues overseas. He travelled throughout Malaysia, the Philippines. Abortion was technically illegal in the Philippines, a strongly Catholic nation, so the protesters were treated well by local police at a centre in the Manila area. He felt an ‘angel’ helped him that day.

  But after Marcus's arrest, a veil lifted and he began to see order and design in the universe. He began to see the case for God and to see Jesus as the only answer for the havoc he had wreaked in his life. He began to have hope for his ultimate fate.

  Is it possible that God could really be in Marcus Tang’s world?

  Could the salvation that Jesus offers be available to him, too, despite his heinous acts? Did Jesus die for Marcus too? He began to see that the issue was not what he thought about humanity evolution, but what he thought about God. He began to study the Bible.

  On 17 Oct 2013 around 1600hrs, Marcus Tang went to his mailbox to retrieve a letter. Marcus knew roughly what the letter was going to say before he tore open the brown envelope. At least he knew who it came from and why.

  The letter itself was maybe five lines, typed on an old typewriter. The writer suggested that if Marcus was interested in a job, “you wish to meet me on the corner of Holiday Inn Singapore tomorrow”

  It gave the time and the name of a café and a phone number Marcus could call in case he wasn’t interested or found the hour inconvenient. It was signed, “Yours sincerely, Yohanan” a name that meant nothing to Marcus.

  Marcus Tang was a young man of twenty-five in good health. A native-born Singaporean, he had just finished his army service in a very elite unit. He was in the security intelligence and held the rank of Lieutenant – as had everyone who served in his unit. The commandos.

  “Right on,” he said to himself now, and went upstairs to take a shower. Marcus came out of the shower, cool, clean, tanned to the bone and took a quick glance in the mirror before wrapping himself in a towel for his meeting with Yohanan.

  When he had reported to Yohanan that day, Marcus and Yohanan were sitting in Yohanan’s room at Hotel Holiday Inn Singapore. Yohanan gave Marcus precise information on one target.

  The idea behind the mission, as Yohanan started explaining it, was to cut off corporate greed at its source.

  “Corporate greed is a monster,” Yohanan explained, “but luckily it has only about a dozen heads. We may be able to cut them off, one by one. Meanwhile, you have saved hundreds of lives. “

  The longer Yohanan talked, the more interested Marcus became. This was big. This was the real thing. With such a mission, he could show them his mettle. But he was careful to reveal none of his enthusiasm to Yohanan. A poker face. Remember the psychological tests that he had to go through to make contact with Occupy Movement group. They don’t want a happy-go-lucky guy, coming on with the big hero stuff. It was better to look thoughtful, even gloomy.

  Yohanan was speaking again. “There is one principle,” he said, “that we may not have touched or not enough. They’re both important. Let me just go over them.”

  “First, you know the Occupy Movement’s principle: punish one, frighten a hundred. Well how do you frighten corporate bigwigs? If you just shoot one, while he’s out in the open, exposed, it may not be enough. The others might say, ‘Oh, they got one, I will be more careful.” Occupy Wall Street is structured on anarchist organizing principles. This means there are no formal leaders and no formal hierarchy. Rather, the movement is full of people who lead by example. We are leader-full, and this makes us strong. ’ That’s why you should go for the leader. One shot one kill.”

  Finally, Marcus found his voice. Never mind if he was being naïve, never mind if he should have expected it. The fact was, he did not. Was that why they had chosen him?

  “Let me get one thing straight,” he said, his voice hardening. “Why me?”

  “Why you what?” Yohanan asked impatiently.

  “Why did you select me?”

  “Why, what’s wrong with you?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” said Marcus “But why me? I’ve never done this kind of thing before.”

  “Who has?” Yohanan leaned forward, his voice becoming gentler. “Don’t misunderstand. If you don’t want to do it, say so. Nobody’s forcing you…. Only your father recommended you to our organisation a few months ago.”

  Marcus’s father, Mark Tang, passed away due to complications from diabetes, renal failure and poor health while Marcus was in the army. The relationship between Marcus’s father, to all appearances, remained cordial. He made no secret about being bitter, though he would hint at why. “When it’s over, it’s over,” he’d say. Then he would add, “If you are lucky enough and still around for them to spit on.”

  And Marcus would ask, “What do you mean, they? Who?”

  Though father would add no details, Marcus understood what he meant. The old man – and he wasn’t even that old, he was in his mid-fifties – had become a broken man after his couple of businesses failed in the midst of mounting debts such as mortgage, utility bills and rising costs of living in Singapore. It led to his marriage with his wife, Sherry to be estranged. Marcus joined the army to pay for some of the debts incurred.

  Marcus never disliked the army for any of the usual reasons. For instance, he didn’t mind marching nearly the whole length of Singapore, at night, carrying pounds of equipment. In the end, it was he who became a commando. One of maybe five thousand who had tried. He wore the second most elite insignia in the Singapore armed forces. After the fighter pilots.

  The real problem lay deeper.

  By 1980, 75% of the residents in Singapore were living in public housing. Government-built high-rise blocks of flats clustered in the population centres, of which the Toa Payoh district was typical. Although a high density of people lived in each block, the residents mostly kept to themselves, valuing their privacy and tending to ignore what was happening around their homes. During this time, Singapore was a relatively peaceful society—a stark contrast to the prevalence of secret societies, triads and gang warfare during the pre-independence days.

  On Nov 5 2013, one Singaporean committed a crime that shocked the nation.

  The incumbent government People’s Progressive Party has worsen the people’s livelihood and poised to make life harder in the years to come before General Elections 2016. But there can only be so much blame to be placed on an incompetent and out of touch government who have paid themselves too much. The ones who are more responsible than the PPP are no doubt those who put them in power. The naive ignoramous ones take in the lies, the half-truths and the threats, while the evil ones either profit from the status quo or have their monthly check issued directly from the PPP government. Yet all of them are equally guilty for the path of destruction Singapore has undertaken because of their electoral choice, whether misinformed or outright ill-intended.

  Yohanan and Marcus agreed that the best time for the hit would be the period between 5pm and 6pm, as most office workers usually prefer to visit the bathroom to relieve themselves before knocking off from work.

  Yohanan decided that the method of execution would simply be a .44 Magnum, the type of gun that
the Robert DeNiro in the vigilante film Taxi Driver used.

  Being a man of regular habits, Koh Kian Beng was not difficult to follow. The CEO of Public Housing Authority and had made it especially easy for Occupy Movement group to track him down. Koh Kian Beng’s face was on the corporate webpage of PHA and appeared frequently on media. His wife, the secretary, Janice, was also listed on the webpage.

  For some time, Marcus had been saying that growing income gap tension between the top 1% and the 99% was growing and that the 99% would soon rise up in rebellion in Singapore.

  A year before his father succumbed to his illness, he explained to Marcus that the social turmoil he had been predicting had also been predicted by the terrorist group Occupy Movement.

  By that time, the elder Tang's vision was complete. He would get his son to join the Movement and trigger the predicted chaos. Ghastly murders of the 1% by 99% would be met with retaliation, and a split between rich and poor would yield riches' self-annihilation.

  It was time for target practice. Yohanan and Marcus picked a beautiful spot. The place was called Paintball Range: a winding network of unpaved roads through national forest in Bukit Timah hills. For their extended gunplay, they picked an area set aside for dirt bikers. Yohanan packed bowling pins stolen from an arcade and to use as targets. And they took a camcorder. It was important to document historic events.

  Marcus shot a bowling pin full of lead. And then Yohanan had another idea. He aimed his shotgun at another imposing pine five feet away. He missed and it hurt. The gun had a vicious recoil which his army had to absorb. Every ince you cut, a shotgun back magnifies the kick. He directed Marcus to follow. “Try to hit a tree,” he said.

  Marcus punched a two inch hole in the trunk. They rushed forward to inspect the damage. Yohanan dug his finger around and produced a pellet.

  Marcus’s voice was subdued. “Imagine that in someone’s fucking brain and it hurt my wrist, the son of a bitch!”

  “I bet so.” Yohanan was laughing now. “I’ve got blood now!”.

  Marcus picked up another bowling pin with a small hole drilled through the front. Single barrel shotguns like the Magnum require a reload every round and that would seriously impact the body count. Marcus prepared himself in a rapid shoot-and-load technique. Each shot was punishing. The blast would tear the barrel out of his band and whip his arm back like a rubber band. But he learned quickly. Soon he was riding out the recoil to catch the barrel stub as it swung around, snap it open, feed a shell, lock it down, squeeze a round, and repeat the process in one fluid, continuous motion. He pounded out four shots in five seconds. He was pleased. Marcus was now a killing machine.

  Marcus had work to do. Napalm was hard. It is an inherently unstable substance. Marcus found lots of recipes online but they never seemed to produce what the instructions predicted. The first batch was awful. He tried again. Just as bad. He kept varying the ingredients and the heating process but it was one failure after another. Each batch was a chore and time-consuming and risky. It involved mixing gasoline with other substances and then heating it up on the stove, trying to make it congeal into a slushy syrup that would ignite with just a spark but burn continuously for some time when shot with force through a projectile tube.

  The making of bombs, where safety and selectivity were not factors was relatively simple. The main explosive would be a stable substance like plastique which could then be fitted with a small detonator – a tiny amount of unstable explosive often of the nitrite family which could be set off by anything from percussion to a small amount of weak current. It could be activated mechanically by, for instance, an alarm clock or a simple TV remote-control switch.

  Figuring out how to sneak the huge bombs into the PHA building was another problem. Each contraption would bulge out of a three foot duffel bag and weigh about fifty pounds. He couldn’t just trot them into the middle of the lift lobby and plop them down in front of the security personnel and walk out without notice. At one point, he gave up scheming and may want to walk right in with the bombs. It was a bold move but textbook psychopath. Perpetrators of complex attacks tend to focus on weak links and minimise risks. Psychopaths are reckless. They have supreme confidence in their work.

  On Nov 5 2013, Marcus, uninvited, entered the residential premise of PHA’s CEO Koh Kian Beng’s office up on the 30th storey. Marcus used a visitors pass on the pretext that he was going to another department – the HR department to submit his job application form.

  When Marcus told Mr Koh’s secretary and his wife, Janice, that he was looking for someone whose name she did not recognize, she informed him the place was the Koh Kian Beng’s office.

  Janice advised him to try "receptionist counter at Level 1". Marcus left shortly after.

  Concerned about the stranger on the property, Janice phoned her sister who was also the PHA receptionist, Jasmine and realised that Jasmine clearly said that the HR department was at Level 20 and not Level 30.

  That evening around 5pm, Marcus returned to the property and again went back to the Mr Koh Kian Beng’s office.

  Apparently, he had bribed a cleaner he found in the janitor and paid a few hundred dollars to let him has his uniform and cleaner’s pass. He also borrowed a facial mask and his cap to hide his features. He borrowed the cleaner’s cart which had a black trash bag attached to it. The janitor took the opportunity to earn some quick bucks without asking too many questions.

  Marcus left the cleaning cart in the lift as he stepped out to meet Janice again. Pushing the cart to clean the toilet would probably arouse suspicion as toilets were cleaned in the morning. Marcus had calculated that the Napalm bomb placed inside the trash bag was good enough to do enough damage in the elevator.

  Presuming to enter the office to clean the toilet of Mr Koh’s, Marcus spoke with Janice, who was just coming out of the office. Janice found it odd that Marcus was cleaning the toilet in the afternoon and not the usual morning and it wasn’t the same cleaner.

  Speaking through the toilet inner screen door, Marcus told it was Mr Koh who called up his supervisor to instruct one of the faulty light tubes to be replaced. Janice decided to call the supervisor herself to check as he found Marcus suspicious and familiar.

  A few minutes went by. While he was the pretext of adjusting the light tubes, he finally heard footsteps.

  Marcus stepped off the ladder that he had used to change the lights. He wanted to face Kian Beng to make absolutely sure he had the right man.

  “Now,” Marcus said and in the next second, he turned, faced Kian Beng. Kian Beng was staring at Marcus, his eyes unbelievably wide, saying “No!” Kian Beng must have tripped over his feet as his heels caught the edge and he started falling backwards, his arms windmilling widly. The thought that crossed Marcus’s mind was that if he missed, his bullets would crash through the mirror. He adjusted the angle of his gun slightly and followed Kian Beng’s falling body, squeezing off the first 2 rounds before the man hit the floor. Twice more he pulled the trigger and twice again.

  Kian Beng’s body was lying on the floor as he fell, his head almost touching the traffic-light pole but his feet still dangling over the curb. He made no sound, only his shoulders were squirming. Then like a person trying to rise, he pulled up his knees and turned to his side. Marcus almost fired again but in another second, he could see Kian Beng’s body relax.

  Roused by the sound of Mr Koh’s scream in the toilet, Janice had frozen in place when she saw the cubicle door open. Marcus held her there at gunpoint while Janice retreated backwards, “Come with me. Don’t say a word or you’re dead.” Janice began crying and Marcus snarled at her to shut up.

  When Janice finally went over to her desk, she asked plaintively, “What are you going to do with me?” Marcus’s reply was blunt: “You are all going to die.”

  Hearing her death sentence pronounced, she suddenly jerked upright and grappled with Marcus’s gun, knocking the weapon off his hands. Two of them rolling around on the floor, Janice
wrapping her hands in Marcus’s hair and Marcus blindly punching her face with his fists. At some point, Marcus reached down his shirt pocket for his pen, sinking the tip mostly into Janice’s legs and abdomen. She screamed as she struggled as she was being disembowelled.

  When it was over, Marcus surveyed the scene. His hand hurt badly as the pen hit mostly Janice’s bone on her thigh. He clutched his hand in pain as he looked around.

  Was it sufficiently gruesome? Janice’s face was mutilated almost beyond recognition and Kian Hua’s suit and business pants were saturated with gore.

  Marcus remembered Yohanan told him to write something witchy in blood, something that would appear to be proof that it was the work of Occupy Movement terrorist. Marcus didn’t want to use his bare hands so he found a towel in the bathroom, dipped it in Kian Hua’s blood and carefully wrote “DEMOCRACY. WE ARE THE 99%” on the outside of the bathroom door.

  There was a large Singapore flag on one side of the office. Marcus draped it theatrically over the sofa near Janice’s crumpled bloody body. The flag prominently displayed next to the corpse would surely shock investigators and get lots of media attention. Marcus was so preoccupied with perfectly setting the scene of the slaughter that when he heard a loud explosion in the elevator shaft, he had to think for a few seconds what happened.

  The bomb, placed near a lift on the mezzanine floor of the PHA building, ripped off a lift door and an inner wall was blown inwards, leaving a mass of rubble on the ground floor. Every window within a 100 metres of the blast was shattered and cars parked near the building or driving past were damaged.

  The Real Singapore

  Published on Nov 17, 2014 1:15 PM

  When a murder paralyzed Singapore’s Public Housing Authority, some Singaporeans are cheering. So loud it almost felt like National Day. For the first time in history, the PPP government is under the attack of a serial killer under a decentralized collective entity called Occupy Movement. It is technically inaccurate to call Occupy Movement a group because it has no leaders, organizational structure and anyone can simply perform a stunt like today and sign off “Occupy Movement” – so long it answers the people’s prayers.

  Some Singaporeans are cheering online but there is not a word of it on the TV and hardcopy newspapers, as expected of course to contain the problem online and not spread to the offline citizens.

  Of course not. Most Singaporeans want the PPP voted out of power.

  Judging from online comments about the recent spate of hackings, it is clear that there is a lot of support for the attack.

  Separately there were also a number of vandalism cases with words related to anonymous being painted around Singapore.

  The PPP should reflect on why there is a rise of such unorganized crime. Perhaps people are starting to feel so much frustration and are becoming desperate to express their anger and resentment.

  No one is really born a terrorist or criminal but sometimes people are pushed to extreme acts when they feel that they are not being heard any other way.

  Many people are happy that there is someone willing to embarrass the government and while they may be unable to or afraid of doing such things themselves, will support those who do.

  Clearly, something is wrong with the current government when the people are happy about murder killings and others go around showing their support through crimes.

  In the weeks just after the murders, the family of Koh Kian Beng victims walked the crime scene with investigators. They needed to see it. It might be horrible – they had to find out. Jasmine stopped at the spot where her sister had been killed. First table on the left. Nothing had been changed except for the removal of the personal effects which had been photographed, inventoried and returned to her family. “The emotional impact, I don’t even know that I can adequately describe it,” Jasmine said. But she could not avoid it. “I needed that connection, as did all of us, to get back and identify, in part, with what had happened there.”

  PHA staff reached the opposite consensus. They spent the next day battling for the idea of PHA. They were repulsed by phrases bandied about like “since PHA” or “prevent another PHA.”

  Then the tourists arrived. Just weeks after the tragedy, even before PHA returned, tour buses started rolling up to the venue. PHA had lept to second place, behind Singapore’s Changi Airport, as Singapore’s most famous landmark and tour operators were quick to capitalise. The buses would pull up in front of the building and tourists would pile out and start snapping pictures: the signboard, the lift lobby and the PHA staff milling about in their offices etc. They captured a lot of angry expressions. The PHA staff felt like zoo specimens. Everyone still needed to know, How do you feel?

  PHA staff Brian Teo was heading back to his office on Level 7. Weeks under the microscope had been miserable; the tourists were too much, “I just want to walk up and slap them silly!” he told another PHA staff.

  A week later, most PHA staff finally reconnected with the physical PHA building. It was an emotional period. Staff had two hours to go back inside and retrieve their belongings and everything else they had abandoned when they ran for it. Their family members were allowed in as well. It gave everyone a chance to confront their fears. A few stumbled out in tears. Useful tears. Most found the experience stressful but cathartic.

  While in prison, Marcus Tang received reams of unsolicited religious materials from well-meaning people. But when Curtis and Sze Chia sent him a Bible and Bible correspondence course, he took notice. Both were members of the Church of Christ—his father and the courses were produced by World Bible School, a Church of Christ ministry. He usually discarded the materials he received, but he didn't discard these.

  The courses' strong evangelical message resonated with his need, and he studied and became convinced of the necessity of baptism in the salvation process. The Churches of Christ emphasize baptism as an act of faith.

  Finally, after years of dissolute living, Marcus, like the Prodigal Son, decided to return to his father. He made the decision to accept Jesus Christ and signed this statement at the end of the study course:

  You have now studied enough of God's Word make a decision to follow Him. You will want to continue to read and study the Bible. But now you need to make your commitment. You need to become a Christian. To do this you must obey God in the He directs. You have now studied Faith, Repentance and Baptism. Now you need to take the step of having someone immerse (baptize) you into Jesus Christ. If this is your wish, please sign your name in this b>ur teacher will arrange to have someone in your area contact you. Following the phrase, "1 want to be immersed (baptized) - I want to become a Christian," Marcus had signed "Marcus Tang.

  Instructions following said the teacher would "begin making arrangements for your baptism as soon as you make this request….”

  Along with this signed request, Marcus sent message to both Curtis Boo and Sze Chia:

  Dear Mr. Boo,

  Hello, how are you today; fine I hope! Thank you for sending me the WBS introductory lesson and very kind of you! I mailed the completed lesson to Mrs. Staff so she should have it by now. Also, about a week after I received your package, a Mrs. Sze Chia, sent me the WBS correspondence, and the advanced course booklets. I filled out both and mailed them off to her to be graded. So, I've now taken the complete course, but I still have one problem. This prison does not have a baptismal tank, and Mr Lui, the prison chaplain, is not sure if he can find someone to bring a tank in and baptize me. Would you be willing to help find someone baptize me? I've taken all of the other steps; now I need and want to be baptized.

  Well, I hope that this you well and in good health. God bless you!

  Sincerely, Marcus Tang

  Dear Mrs. Sze Chia,

  Hello, thank you so much me the WBS correspondence course! Also, thank you for the Bible! I want to accept the Lord's salvation but I don't know if the prison allows me to be baptized. Mr. Lui, our chaplain, is not sure if he can find someone to bring a bap
tismal tank into the prison. Would try to find someone that would be able to baptize me in prison? I am very concerned about this.

  I hope that this letter fill and in good health. God bless you! Sincerely,

  Marcus Tang

  The letters brought joy to Curtis and Sze Chia, but neither knew much about this. Both began a frantic search to find someone anyone, who would be willing to baptize Tang.

  April 20 finally arrived. My appointment at the prison was set for 1 p.m., an hour before the baptism. I would spend the extra time privately with Marcus. During this time, I would take Marcus's confession of faith in Jesus Christ. I knew that Marcus believed on Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, but tradition dictated that I formally ask him. After our brief meeting, we would be escorted to the baptism area.

  As I drove to the prison that day, I wondered about Marcus's emotional state. Was he nervous about being baptized? Did he fully comprehend what we were about to do? We had discussed the need for baptism, but in all the excitement, the subject of his past sins had not even come up. Did he understand that baptism serves to bring assurance that Christ's blood "washes away sins"? Would he appreciate this biblical truth? I have baptized many, many people who have not appreciated the fact that their sins were washed away. Would Marcus struggle with a sense of guilt after his baptism?

  Two events dominated the news that day. The first was a near-total solar eclipse. The second was the sentencing of the janitor whom Marcus Tang bribed for lending him the clothes, cap and facial mask. The janitor was formally charged as being an accessory to the murder of Mr Koh Kian Beng and committing bribery for lending his clothes to Marcus Tang.

  As has become a common ritual, many men and women on the street were asked for an opinion about the two events occurring on the same day. I couldn't listen to a radio station or watch a television program without seeing an anonymous person crying about the appropriateness or inappropriateness of watching a janitor being sentenced on a day we were experiencing a solar eclipse.

  The subject of capital punishment is an emotional one—and one that resurfaces whenever a prisoner is put to death. The fact that an execution was occurring during a solar eclipse brought a strange poetry to what I heard that day. For those against public executions, the solar eclipse was a message from God. He would not allow the sun to shine on such a deplorable act. For those in favor of Marcus’s death, the eclipse was a strangely appropriate sign of the evil he had done—and again was a message from God. In this view, the darkness reflected God's condemnation of Lim and of what lay in store for him in the next life. Strange commentary!

  As I listened, I wondered what these people would say if they knew what I was about to do on this day.

  Rather than end a life, I was hoping to assist in a new birth. I would help a man prepare to meet his God by dying to his old sinful self. Would some see this as reason for the sun not to shine? Would they be embarrassed and ashamed that such a heinous criminal would embrace a faith like their own?

  The full effect of the eclipse was eerie. The noon sky was dark and dusky when I arrived at the prison. The gloomy scene could easily be interpreted as an omen of bad to come. But I was on my way to do something good, very good. Who could dwell on bad things to come?

  Later, I learned how dark and grim the hearts of some people were when they learned of Marcus's baptism, and I would remember the darkness of that day. The day a person is baptized is a day of celebration. But many who claim to wear the name of Christ rejoice with gladness of heart when they heard of Marcus's conversion.

  I never heard these, but others reported to me comments they'd heard, like: "If Marcus Tang is going to heaven, then I don’t want to be there." What a dark and horrible thought. Thinking of it takes me back to that afternoon and the cast of the sky before I went inside the prison.

  Once again, I went through a complicated process to gain entrance. The procedure would become more tolerable as months went by, but for now it was a burden. Today, Chaplain was waiting for me at the door, enabling me to go through a little fast-ted me to a special conference room, not the small room on the right of my first visit, but a larger room on my left with a bigger table and several chairs waited nervously for Marcus to arrive. When Marcus finally arrived in his prison uniform, he was excited.

  "I guess we're going to have a baptism,”

  "Really? I haven't heard a thing until you told me you were here. I was wondering if the baptism was not going to be allowed. But, since you're here, I guess it's okay." I never have understood why prison chaplains kept Marcus in the dark about his own baptism date.

  "Marcus, sit down for a few minutes," I said. “This is probably obvious, but I need to be sure you understand that baptism has something to do with your sins. Do you understand what baptism does to your sins?"

  "Oh yes, I know it washes away my sins needed to have his sins washed away, it is me! In fact, I'm looking forward to it and counting on it."

  "Good," I continued. "I need to ask you another thing, too. Do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God?"

  He smiled as he gave his answer. “Yes, I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God. In fact, I've said so lots of times in the various interviews I've given to the media, but each time, when the report airs, that part is left out."

  "I guess this is the price of my infamy,” He rolled his eyes heavenward. He would speak of his "infamy" occasions, always using that same facial expression.

  "Well, I do have a question for you,” he countered. "Something is bothering me because of what other prisoners have said, and I wanted to ask you about it. What are you planning to say when you baptize me?"

  "Do you mean the words?"

  "Yes. I've been told it really matters,?” he replied. "Well, I have always used the words of Jesus at the end of the book of Matthew (28:19). I intend to say baptizing you 'in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.' Was that what you were expecting?"

  "Well, I've heard from other inmates that baptisms that use those words aren't valid. The only words should be, “I baptize you in the name of Jesus.' I don't know anything about this, but I want everything to be right."

  "Let me assure you. I've performed many baptisms. I don't see any difference in the words. If you want me to use those words, I'll be glad to do that."

  "No, no, I don't really care is you use. My only concern is that everything be done right."

  "Let me tell you—your baptism will be done right. Since you don't mind which words I use, I’ll use what I usually say. But you don’t need to worry about your baptism not being valid. God understands what we are doing, and personally, I fell more comfortable using those very word of Jesus,”

  Chaplain Lui returned before we were to be escorted to the whirlpool. "If redemption is what you want,” he said, “you might consider what the Muslims do here in prison. They believe that by simply rubbing their hands against a rough surface, like the wall of the prison, that they can gain redemption. Have you ever considered doing this instead?"

  I was shocked to hear this. I looked at Marcus, and he looked at me with the same look of disbelief. How could a chaplain claim to be a Christian suggest that we follow a Muslim custom for gaining redemption? Was he trying to stop this baptism before it could occur? I’ve never understood why he said this.

  I spoke first. "No, I think we'll go on with baptism rather than follow the Moslem practice." As I spoke, Marcus nodded his head in agreement. By his body language, I could tell he was glad I answered.

  The chaplain left to call the guards to escort us to the medical facility and whirlpool tub. On our way, we passed others. They carried mops and brooms and were on guard.

  I didn't know if inmates were allowed to talk each other—I'd gathered that the rule was silence. 'Hey, Marcus, how's it going?"

  Marcus was in bright spirits. He answered, ”I am going to be baptized today!" The other inmates faces lit up, and others began humming a gospel tune, setting the stage
for a sense of joy that was to pervade the whole experience.

  Neither the guards nor the chaplain rebuked the inmates or Marcus for his reply. They seemed to recognize that something special was going to happen. The guards continued walking—one leading the way, Marcus following, the chaplain and I behind Marcus, and one guard behind us all. No one spoke again.

  When we reached the medical art in and saw the whirlpool. "This should do just fine," I said. The chaplain held up a white polyester robe that someone had made—obviously for a baptism. I remembered the chaplain's concerns about a baptismal garment and I've always wondered if it had been used before, or was made for Marcus.

  A guard remained in a little room would change clothes. The chaplain, the other guard and I stepped out into the hallway.

  As we waited, the joy of this special occasion grew. Both the chaplain and the guard in the hallway began to of baptisms. I'd seen this before—the baptismal experience is so real and so fundamental that it brings to mind similar experiences. It is a tender moment when the soul seems to touch the divine.

  I was intrigued to hear their stories and began to share mine. Each memory was about beautiful and wonderful experiences—it was amazing.

  The door to the little room opened. Marcus was ready to be baptized. I was surprised to see that he had already chosen the tub, and he turned around a couple of times to figure out how it all would work. The tub was fairly small, and he would have to assume a fetal position in order to fit in all the way.

  When he was ready, I placed my hands on his head and one shoulder. 1 said, "Marcus, upon your confession of faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, I now baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of your sins.”

  I pushed him under the water until he was completely immersed. When his head broke the surface, I said something I always say when I baptize someone. "Welcome to the Family of God!”

  He looked at me with a smile of gladness, and said simply, "Thank you." He climbed out of the tub and used a towel to dry off. The chaplain, a guard and I stepped out into the hall as he hanged into dry clothes.

  Again, we told of baptismal experience and this time the chaplain spoke movingly of his daughter's baptism, was reverential and sacred, and I felt a sense of spiritual bonding with these two men as we waited. The walk back to the chaplain's office seemed to go quickly. I was happy to see the bounce in Marcus's step; he obviously filled with joy.

  Before Marcus was returned to his unit, 1 made a special appeal to the chaplain. "I would like to visit with Marcus on a regular basis. I want to help him develop his faith. I don't want to just slip out of his life. I'd like to see him every week to study the Bible."

  As I spoke, the chaplain nodded his head in agreement, but Marcus had a shocked look on his face. "I just thought you would leave, and I'd never see you again," he said.

  "No, I won't leave you. If I can, I would like to visit you every week to study with you."

  "That would be wonderful!" Marcus said.

  Chaplain Lui was willing to set up a visitation plan. "I'll set up what we call a permanent pastoral visitation. What day would you like to come each week?"

  "Wednesdays would work fine with me," I replied.

  "Good. Wednesdays will be your day, and I can set it up for tomorrow, if you like."

  "No, not tomorrow," I said, "but let's set it up for next week."

  I had another request of the chaplain. "The woman who sent Marcus the correspondence course has asked if she can come to visit Marcus. Can this be arranged, too?"

  Chaplain Lui asked if the woman, Sze Chia, was on Marcus's visitor's list. She wasn't. Marcus knew her only through the correspondence course.

  "Well, is she an officiate of the church?" the chaplain asked. No, she was a church member who sent out Bible correspondence courses throughout the world. The chaplain would consider her a layman.

  "Then such a visit is out of the question," he said. "We don't allow just anyone to come visit our prisoners, especially famous ones like Marcus Tang. Why, even you could not come to see him if he had not requested it. You couldn't come here and say, 'I would like to visit Marcus Tang, please.' Only when a prisoner makes a request to see someone like you do we allow it. Someone like her, who is not on his visitor's list, and who is not an officiate of the church, can't come."

  "Well, I didn't know all that. She has already arranged airline tickets to come visit Marcus, and I'll have to tell her she can't come. I'm sure she'll be disappointed."

  "If Marcus wants to add her to his visitor's list, he could do that, but it will take about six months to process."

  Marcus wasn't interested in adding Sze Chia to the list. He thought it too complicated, and he would have to take someone off his visitor's list to make room for her. I asked Marcus to write her to explain.

  My time to leave had come. I had accomplished what I came for. Marcus Tang had been baptized and a weekly appointment set so that we could study the Bible together. I hoped to study the Gospel of John and the life of Jesus with him.

  The effects of the eclipse were finished when I left the prison and got into my car. Despite the solar eclipse, it had turned out to be a wonderful day. I felt happy and fulfilled. It was a beautiful drive home.

  When I got home, I had a phone call to make. One of the women in my congregation had heard I was going to baptize Marcus Tang, and asked that I call her when I returned from the prison. She worked for a news agency and thought the baptism would be newsworthy. I didn't think it was anyone's business, but at her urging, I had agreed. I told her, "Barbara, I baptized Marcus Tang today. I know you wanted to know when it happened." She was glad to hear the news and congratulated me for the baptism. She thanked me for the phone call. I was quite naive about what would follow.

  20th of April started out as any other day in spring. The weather was getting warmer as summer approached. The grass was getting greener with every passing day. The songbirds were singing. Windows and screen doors were open—airing out winter and bringing a refreshing scent.

  It started out as such a beautiful day. It was the day after Marcus's baptism, and my spirits were high. But the beauty of the day was deceiving. This day would bring a dramatic turnaround from yesterday's events. I was to experience my own eclipse with both darkness and brilliant light.

  I arrived at my office a little after 9 a.m. and started sorting through the mail. It was a Wednesday, so I needed to get ready for Bible classes that night. Barbara, the church member who works for the news agency, called me at 9:30 to read what she had written about Marcus's baptism.

  At that time, I didn't really understand the nature of Barbara's job. To me, she was simply a member of my congregation who found the story appealing and wanted to write about it. She didn't mention my name in her release and covered only the basic facts. Her report was short and simple: "Marcus Tang was baptized in a whirlpool at Changi Correctional Institution, Singapore, on April 10,2014, at 2 p.m. A minister from Singapore performed the baptism."

  She asked me what I thought of it. "It sounds fine to me. You got all the facts correct," I said.

  She said, "Minghao, I have a very important question to put to you right now. You may want to give some thought to your answer."

  "Oh? What is that?" Little did I know my answer would affect my life drastically in coming days.

  She said, "You don't seem to understand that this is big news."

  "You're right. I don't see this as anything news people would find interesting."

  "Well, trust me; they're going to jump right on this story. As soon as I release it, my office will be flooded with requests for your identity. I'm asking for your permission to release your name."

  "Why would you need my name?" I asked very naively.

  "Well," she began to explain patiently, "without your name, the story lacks credibility. It will be dismissed as a ridiculous rumor and become the fodder for jokes. On the other hand, releasing your name w
ould give the story credibility, but it will put you under the scrutiny of the press. You will likely be hounded for several days by reporters from the newspapers and television and radio."

  I must admit; that did not sound appealing.

  Barbara continued to press her point. I'd conducted a Bible study in her home for several years, and she understood my great concern for the world to hear the gospel. She said, "You've always said that one of the greatest needs of our society is to hear the simple story of Jesus Christ, but people are generally not interested in hearing it. Well, nothing will grab the attention of people who need Jesus as much as Marcus Tang's baptism. You can share the simple story of salvation with literally thousands of people. But the price you will have to pay will be the sacrifice of your privacy."

  "Well," I replied, "you are making a strong case."

  "And more than that," she said. "Marcus's story is a profound example of God's grace toward a sinner. Marcus's story illustrates grace. If the world needs to hear anything, it needs to hear about God's grace."

  I had to smile as I listened to her. Here she was preaching to me, the preacher. Just barely two years before this, I had shared the concept of God's grace with Barbara and rejoiced over her baptism. Here she was giving it all back to me. She had made her point. I decided to release my name—for Marcus, but also for Barbara. She needed to see that my actions and my convictions were consistent.

  "All right, you've made your case," I said. "You can release my name if anyone asks for it. I still don't see why this would be much of a story. I don't think anybody in the world would care whether Marcus Tang was baptized or not. But, I'll let you go with the item you've written."

  We said our good-byes and hung up.

  I sat there for a few seconds reflecting on what we'd said. I had no interest in making a name for myself. Barbara was blowing this whole thing out of proportion. No one would care about this.

  But—how wrong I was. In less than five minutes, the phone rang. It didn't stop for days.

  The first call was a reporter for our local newspaper, the Singapore State Journal. "Is it true," he asked, "that you baptized Marcus Tang?" When I told him it was true, he wanted to send a reporter out to interview me and take my picture. A picture? I had not even thought about a picture.

  "Let's schedule it for one this afternoon," I said, putting it off so that I could run home and grab a coat and a tie. One of the nasty truths about being a minister, at least in 2014, was that people expected you to look like a minister—with a coat and a tie. When I was in my office and not planning to see anyone that day, I usually dressed casually. If I visited people in the hospital or at their homes, I'd wear "the outfit." For a picture in the newspaper, I had to look the part. I hung up, and the phone rang again. It was another reporter, this time from a magazine. Then there was a call from a radio personality, who wanted to do a phone interview. Local television stations called. I tried to deal with each one as openly and honestly as I could.

  Around 11:30, I left the office and drove home to get changed and grab lunch. I didn't want the media to hunt me down at home, and I needed to warn my family to refer callers to my office.

  Of course, that warning didn't hold. Reporters came after me at all hours. One television station wanted me to appear on the 5 o'clock news. I met with reporters in my office and at the church building. I was photographed, videotaped, and recorded. They wanted to know my every detail. One television newsmagazine even photographed the car I drove to the prison! It was ridiculous, but I tried to accommodate them as well as I could

  One interview with a radio announcer stands out in my mind. He had callers ask me questions. One asked if I would allow Marcus Tang to babysit my children. I thought that was a strange question and could not understand why he would even ask it.

  "It has to do with forgiveness," he explained. "If Marcus Tang has been truly forgiven, and all his past sins are forgotten, then why wouldn't you allow him to babysit your children?"

  "There is a whole lot more involved than that, but if I understand your point correctly, you are asking if Marcus Tang has been forgiven of all his sins. To that I would say, yes, he has. Whether he would be a qualified person to baby-sit children is another question entirely," I replied.

  The most common question I heard from the reporters was whether I thought Marcus Tang should be released now that he has been baptized. Foolish question! So many people are confused about what forgiveness of sins means. They cannot distinguish crimes against the state and sins against God—which probably reflects the general vision people have about God.

  Another caller asked me about my role as a Minister. She wanted to know how could I baptize a convicted murderer when I had the audacity to condemn a lesbian.

  I could see that people were confused about what forgiveness means.

  Among the callers was an angry Chaplain Lui. He seemed to think I had intentionally sought media coverage. "What have you done? Are you trying to make a name for yourself? If I had known you would exploit Marcus Tang this way, I wouldn't have allowed you to see him in the first place." He was very angry with me, and I got the impression that Marcus shared his perspective.

  I could deal with the chaplain's anger, but I was deeply concerned about Marcus's feelings. From my point of view, I did not intentionally seek media coverage, it just happened. I couldn't believe that Barbara's little news release would have this response. I called her to tell her the baptism had taken place simply because she asked me to. This situation had developed a life of its own.

  "I'm sorry this has happened. It was not my intention for anyone to know about it," I told the chaplain.

  "Well, then how did the news media find out about it?" he demanded. "I mentioned it at church, and one of the women in the church works at a news agency, although I didn't really know what her job was. She had asked me to call her after I baptized Marcus. When I did, she wrote a press release. I didn't expect things to develop as far as they have."

  My explanation did not appease him. "You should have known better. This is your fault!" he said as he hung up. I knew I was in trouble.

  I wondered if the chaplain would interfere with my pastoral visitations at the prison. I imagined Marcus had seen the newscast. All of the members at church had seen it and were talking about it that Wednesday night.

  Did Marcus see me as a preacher hungry for publicity and eager to exploit his name? I knew I had to do something. I didn't think I could call Marcus on the phone (actually, I probably could have, but I didn't know much about prisons then). I would write him a letter.

  My note was brief, but heartfelt. "I want you to know I never thought things would develop the way they have. I believe, regardless of what I have done, that the story would have reached the media anyway. I'm sorry for my part in all of this, but I really don't know how else I could have dealt with the situation.

  "Chaplain Lui has implied that you are as angry with me as he is over all this. If that is true, then you may not want to see me at our next appointed time. I still intend to come this next Wednesday to see you. If you don't want me to visit you any more, I want you to tell me that to my face.

  "If you feel you cannot trust me, I will voluntarily stop my visits with you, but I will try to arrange for someone else, another minister, to take my place. It is very important to me that you receive visits to strengthen your new faith. Once again, I am very sorry; it was not my intention to bring you more publicity."

  I sent the letter off, and nervously waited for a reply. None came, so I went ahead and drove up to the prison for our next appointed visit. Finally, I got inside and was able to see Marcus. I told him, "When Chaplain Lui called me and expressed his disappointment in me, it sounded like you felt that way, too. That's why I wrote you the letter."

  His reply was a comfort to me. "No. I'm proud of you for telling the world that I believe in Jesus Christ. My main complaint with the media is that in every interview I speak of my faith, but when the interviews are
aired, they cut that section out. I'm glad that you were able to tell the world that I am a believer!"

  To my face, no one has ever said anything negative about my baptizing Marcus Tang. I don't know if this reflects general dishonesty in people or not. I did hear about people who had talked with me about the baptism, but later had terrible things to say on the subject. One story really sticks in my mind.

  Daryl called me the morning the news got out about Marcus's baptism. Daryl was a local radio personality who had a reputation for outlandish shows and ranting and raving about the latest issue. I didn't know what to expect when I heard from him. I expected him to start raving at me! To my surprise, he was respectful during a phone interview. I was impressed and willingly retold the story of Marcus's baptism.

  Later I found out that Daryl started throwing temper tantrums right after I was on the air. He belittled Marcus's baptism and mocked his faith and me. He cried out again and again, saying that if Marcus Tang could be forgiven for his crimes, then it really didn't matter what anybody does because horrible crimes could always be forgiven. He was respectful to me to my face, but far different behind my back.

  Such an incident was typical of my media experiences. The interviewers would be respectful, and at times, amazed at my story. Sometimes that respect carried into their stories. But often, the reporters I talked with sounded far different in the interviews than in their news reports. The words came from the same person, but the attitude had changed from civility to harsh criticism and cynicism. The reporters passed on their attitudes to the average person.

  I felt a dark cloud had begun to surround me, but was keeping its distance so I was not completely aware of its presence. I learned of the dark attitudes and profound disapproval of people only by talking with friends and church members. All I saw first hand was wonder, amazement and admiration for my baptizing Marcus.

  Once, when I was visiting Marcus, a guard told me about the controversy I had caused in his church as the members were having a hard time accepting the idea of Marcus Tang as a Christian.

  Sometime later, I visited a man in the hospital who recognized me from the press coverage. He was a Christian college student at the time of Marcus's baptism. The thing he remembered most was a comment by one of the instructors in a hallway. It probably captured the sentiment of many: "If Marcus Tang is going to heaven, then I don't want to be there."

  How can a Christian hold that viewpoint? I don't understand it. Does it come from a misunderstanding of the forgiveness of sin? Is forgiveness limited to those who are not very bad after all?

  Is there no joy in knowing that a sinner has turned to God? A gross misunderstanding of what Marcus's baptism accomplished was apparent. No one said Marcus was no longer guilty of his crimes. He would not be released from prison, nor should he be, dependent on his baptism. Baptism does not take away crimes. It addresses sins. The issue in baptism doesn't concern justice in the society. It concerns the forgiveness of God.

  I suppose I can understand the anger felt by some people about Marcus's baptism. They feel justice has been cheapened or ignored. The whole point of justice is to make things right. What about justice? How does it lit into this picture?

  Forgiveness is all about the mercy of God, and the nature of mercy sometimes leaves the feeling that justice has been violated. That's not true. There is a profound relationship between justice and mercy. Justice without mercy is unreasonable, and mercy without justice is meaningless. The two must exist together, and each must reflect the truth of the other.

  The mercy offered in baptism exists because of Jesus' death on the cross, which fulfilled God's demand for justice. Jesus died for our sins because justice demands death as the payment for sin. Those who reject the mercy of God must deal with the untempered justice of God in his wrath against sin.

  Marcus's crimes cry out for justice. People seethe with righteous indignation when they think of his horrible deeds. He needs to suffer for the crimes he committed. Hence, they believe, hell is the proper place for Marcus Tang.

  No one understood this quite as well as Marcus. He understood that it was from the anger and wrath of God that he sought redemption. Baptism is about salvation and the redemption of the soul. It relates only to our relationship with God. It does not address justice issues of the state. It does address justice issues of God.

  It became very clear to me as I experienced my "15 minutes of fame" that many people cannot distinguish between justice and salvation, and between what the state does and what God does. God is not the state, and the state is not God; the two govern different realms.

  Some people related to me differently after the media blitz. Once, my father-in-law introduced me to a man he knew in Singapore, saying, "Do you know what he did?" Once my relationship with Marcus was mentioned, the man walked off and left us in silence. I felt very alone. That happened a lot.

  Even church people I'd known for years would say to others, "Do you know what he did? He's the man who baptized Marcus Tang." And then the silence would follow. I never knew whether they were proud of me, or ashamed. I lived in my own eclipse for a long time, for Marcus's baptism overshadowed everything about me. But eventually, the sun returned.

  For a week after Marcus's baptism, I saw my name and my face plastered all over television and in newspapers and magazines. I was glad when the blitz ended. I looked forward to my visits with Marcus and the beginning of a new ministry—in prison.

  I have been looking forward to May 1 with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. This would be my first meeting with Marcus after the baptism, and I was anxious to address several things.

  "What will you talk about?" one of my church members asked.

  "Well, I don't really know, but I would like to talk to Marcus about Jesus as I understand him, and allow the vision of Jesus to mould him into a mature Christian."

  "Well, what about the Lord's Supper? I low can he take that every Sunday?" the man asked, citing a key tenet of the Churches of Christ. "What about the instrumental music question? How can he worship in prison with musical instruments?" he pressed.

  My response was naive. "I don't think these issues will be a big deal since Marcus hasn't been involved with the Churches of Christ all that much," I said. "He attended as a small child, but it's unlikely he has absorbed much of the controversy on these subjects. I'm not expecting those issues to even come up."

  I was wrong on both counts. These issues, so important to many in the Churches of Christ, would, indeed, concern Marcus Tang. I wanted to give him a simple faith in Jesus Christ and protect him from some of the arguments and controversies that have raged within my faith, but that was not to be.

  Marcus came from a life of almost unimaginable depravity to accept Jesus Christ. Why, why would he be concerned with the fine points of any religion? I've learned since that time that people who have committed the worst possible acts are often the most concerned with adhering to the finest points of religious doctrine. Why? Perhaps they are seeking security from their terrible impulses in a rigid belief system. Perhaps they, more than most people, just want to be certain of their justification before God.

  Convincing Marcus that God brings grace to the sinner, not a straitjacket of laws, was to be a challenge. And one I didn't expect.

  Most likely, I was overly concerned that Marcus was disillusioned with me for my part in the media coverage. 1 didn't want to imagine digging through a litany of conflict-ridden doctrine with him. Above all, I didn't want to alienate him.

  I did fear he would agree with what Chaplain Lui had said about the media reports. Yet, I could not put off seeing him. If he never wanted me to visit him again, he would have to tell me to my face. If that were his decision, I planned to stress his need for someone to study with him, and make connections with someone to come in my place.

  I arrived at the prison at the appointed time, went through the tedious entry procedure, was escorted to a private room and told to wait until Marcus was called. The minutes
passed and my nervousness increased.

  What would I do if Marcus told me he didn't want to continue the visitations? Who would I find to work with him? Could I persuade him of my good intentions? Would he understand my naivete and inexperience with the media? Would he be open to a study of the person and character of Jesus? The more I thought, the more anxious I became. When he finally arrived, I was a bundle of nerves.

  "I'm so glad you came," he began. "I really wanted to tell you that I do not feel the way Chaplain Lui does. I'm happy you let the world know that I was baptized."

  My relief was enormous. "Chaplain Lui was really angry with me over all the coverage, and he seemed to imply that he had spoken with you and that you agreed with him," I said.

  "No," Marcus said. "He never talked with me about it. I saw you on the television! I have heard my name on television a lot, and I'm used to hearing all kinds of stuff about myself. But I didn't expect anyone to care that I was baptized," he explained.

  "Well, I was worried about how you felt about me and my part in all that. I didn't have a chance to talk with you on the phone to get your initial reaction. I hadn't thought it would bother you until I heard from the chaplain, but after his phone call I was concerned," I answered.

  "You are the first person to ever say publicly that I believe in Jesus, and I thank you for that," he said.

  "I will not leave you or desert you," I told him. "I'm committed to help you grow and learn as a Christian. As far as I'm concerned, I will keep coming to study with you until one of us dies."

  Funny. I expected a confrontation, an angry argument, possibly even a dismissal. Instead, Marcus encouraged me. I cannot convey how deeply relieved I was to hear his words. Likewise, he came expecting me to say I wouldn't be coming again because of the chaplain's rebuke. Instead, he heard me say I was committed to continuing to work together.

  So we were accepting of each other before we knew what our spiritual relationship meant. But 1 didn't get an opportunity to suggest we study the nature of Jesus in the Gospel of John. Before 1 could say, "What would you like to study?" or "Here is what I think we should study," Marcus started off with questions.

  He was absolutely full of questions. He had stored them up, and now he had someone willing to listen to him and answer them. He didn't want to waste a moment of the opportunity. I listed questions would drive our discussion and study for several weeks.

  "What do I do about the Lord's Supper?" he asked first.

  I was stunned. "What do you mean?" I asked. As I've said, I was naive to think he wouldn't know of the Church of Christ's practice of weekly communion.

  "Well, they offer church services every Sunday here in prison," he explained. "But the services are by different denominations, and don't offer the Lord's Supper. It is only available once a month. If I need to have the Lord's Supper every Sunday, how am I going to do that?"

  I started to answer, but he quickly cut me off.

  "I've done some thinking. I have a supply of crackers in my cell, which I could use for the bread. I also have some dry grape drink mix I could use for the wine. Would that be okay?" he asked cautiously.

  "Yes, I would think that would be fine," I replied.

  "The reason I ask is I've read a lot about this. I get a lot of stuff in the mail. Most of it is not asked for, but I have read about the Lord's Supper. I've read that only freshly squeezed grape juice is allowed, but I can't get freshly squeezed grape juice in prison! I can't get even bottled grape juice, or wine or frozen grape concentrate. All I can get is this grape drink mixture that you just add water to. I can make this up in my cell. Would that be all right with God?" he quickly poured out.

  It was obvious this matter really bothered him. He had spent much time wrestling with this and needed reassurance.

  I said, "Look, many views exist about the Lord's Supper, and many of those views don't make sense for you here in prison. If you weren't in prison and able to go to church, you would take whatever was offered, and probably not even think about it. But given your setting, some of the practices you've heard about are simply out of the question."

  "Yeah, I know. I don't know what to do," he replied.

  "Well, you shouldn't worry. I believe God understands your situation and knows what you are capable of doing. As for this law about using freshly squeezed grape juice, I've been in the church for many years and preached for many years, and I have never heard of such a thing. That is utter nonsense as far as I'm concerned.

  "I don't believe God will hold you responsible if you can't obtain the things you need to serve him. God is a gracious God, and a compassionate God and a God of understanding. He knows your situation and what you are dealing with. I don't think it matters to God whether the grape drink is dried and mixed with water, or is freshly squeezed, or is bottled or frozen. What matters is that you have set your heart to serve God and obey Him as much as possible."

  "Well, I just want to do everything right. I've lived my life in the wrong ways long enough. I just want to do what is right as far as God is concerned," he said.

  "God understands what you're facing," I said, "and he looks into your heart. He will judge fairly. You don't need to worry."

  "Okay. You've convinced me. When I can't take communion in the church services, I'll take it in my cell."

  The second question was even more surprising than the first one. "What translation of the Bible should I use? What translation do you use?" he asked.

  Again, I entered the discussion naively, not knowing that he already had a version in mind. "I use the New International Version. I have studied the Greek and the Hebrew languages, and I've studied the different translations in terms of accuracy and readability. It is very important that a translation is accurate, but it's equally important that the message be understandable in the clearest language possible. In the end, I finally settled on the New International Version."

  By the look on his face, I could tell my answer did not sit well with him. "Well, I use the King James Version," he said. "Everything I've read tells me that this is the only reliable version of the Bible and that the Greek text the King James translation is based on is superior to all other Greek texts. Why would you use any other translation?"

  "Don't you find the King James translation hard to read in places?" I asked.

  "Well, yes, but that's not the point. For me the issue is accuracy, and I believe the King James is the most accurate Bible translation."

  I tried to proceed gently. I said, "Well, there is a lot of debate on that issue. There are problems with the King James version because so many of the English words have changed their meaning since that translation was made."

  "What do you mean?" he asked.

  "A number of words mean just the opposite today from what they meant. One example is the word, 'let.' Paul uses it in Romans to say that he intended to come to them, but Satan 'let' him. What he means is that Satan hindered him. This use of the word 'let' is found today only in tennis, when a ball is stopped by the net is a 'let' ball. Today, the word has the meaning of 'to allow,' not hinder. The King James has many words like that, and I find myself spending half my time needing to redefine the words in order to understand the message."

  "Okay," he said. "But what about its accuracy?"

  "Well, all Bible translations are based on Greek manuscripts. None go back to the original; all are copies, and most are copies of copies of copies. The oldest and most reliable complete manuscripts date only to the 400 A.I), era. Nearly all of these were either not discovered at the time of the King James translation, or were not available.

  "The Greek text the King James Bible is based on comes from newer, not older manuscripts. Most people consider the Greek text used for the King James Bible to be inferior, not superior to modern-day Greek texts."

  Marcus was flabbergasted. "This can't be! I have read books that have assured me that the Greek text of the King James Bible is superior to all other Greek texts."

  I decided to move on.
"Look, we're not going to settle this question here and now. We don't have the resources to get into this like we ought to. I propose that you use the King James Bible. You obviously have a lot of confidence in it. I will continue to use my New International Version. If there are disagreements, and I doubt there will be many, we can compare them and decide as best we can from what we have studied what is right. How does that sound?" "I guess that will be okay," he answered cautiously. "Marcus, translation differences are usually over minor points. The main ideas and concepts of God are revealed in both translations. We'll gain by studying together."

  "Okay. I see your point. That will just have to be the way it is." The last question Marcus raised is a highly debatable one in my Christian tradition. It dealt with instrumental music in worship. "How can I worship on Sundays when all the worship services provided by the prison use instrumental music in worship?" he asked.

  The use of musical instruments in worship has been hotly debated for over a century in the Churches of Christ, who came from a nineteenth-century Christian movement known as the American Restoration Movement. Before the American Civil War, no church within this movement used musical instruments in worship. However, after the war, the richer churches in the North installed organs, which the poorer churches in the South viewed as an unscriptural innovation.

  In truth, jealousy and envy were no doubt involved in the conflict, but the official view was that instruments were unscriptural and sparked a controversy that raged for a half-century. Congregations divided over the question, eventually leading to the formation of the non-instrumental Churches of Christ—the part of the movement from which I, and Marcus's father, come. We worship a cappella—with singing only.

  I'd struggled with this question over the years, and finally reached the conclusion that since the Bible is silent on the subject, we have a right, given by God, to praise Him in whatever way we deem best.

  So I began, "I appreciate your question, but 1 think, given your circumstances, you need to be around Christians and all who claim to be Christians more than anything else. So I suggest that you simply attend every chapel and church service you can that is Christian in nature."

  "I can't believe you said that!" he exclaimed. "My father is real involved in the Church of Christ, and I know how much worshipping without instruments means to him. How can you say I should worship with every Christian group?"

  "Marcus, your greatest need now is for spiritual encouragement. I can't be there every Sunday. The reality of your world is a prison setting. It is far from the ideal circumstances we would like. You need to seek out those who believe many of the same things you believe and worship with them."

  "But what about the instrumental music?" he asked.

  "I have studied that question a lot, and I have found that the Bible doesn't address the subject at all, at least in terms of the arguments. So, I don't think it matters as much to God as it does to us."

  "I can't believe this. What about that passage in Ephesians? Here, I'll read it: 'Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord.' [Ephesians 5:19]

  Doesn't that teach us that singing is the only acceptable way to worship?" he asked.

  "What does that passage mean?" I responded. "What is that passage talking about?

  "I don't know. You're the expert here! You tell me!" he answered somewhat defensively.

  "That passage in Ephesians never mentions anything about musical instruments. That's not the topic Paul is discussing. It's about our lives as Christians—that we should live our lives, day by day, as fully for Jesus as possible.

  "My biggest problem with this whole issue," I continued, "is in its approach to the New Testament. To conclude that a passage like this means that we are forbidden to sing with musical accompaniment is to suggest that the New Testament is a law book like the Law of Moses. That is, to violate the law is to put your soul at risk."

  "Yes, that is exactly my concern!" he responded.

  "But the New Testament is not a law book. It is nothing like the Law of Moses. Just compare the New Testament to the book of Leviticus in the Old Testament. That's a book of law provided by Clod. Every little detail is given and the correct order is important. But you don't find that in the New Testament. If you realize that the New Testament is not a rulebook, you begin to see it differently. When you read this text in its context, you come away with a completely different understanding.

  "Actually, I prefer to sing without an instrument, and that is the true reason I worship the way I do," I said.

  Marcus sat there silent for a few minutes, thinking about what I had said. It was obvious I had burst a religious bubble of his, and he needed some time to deal with it.

  "This makes sense to me," he finally answered. "But, I will have to think about this for a long time."

  "Yes, do that. In the meantime, if you think it would be better for you to worship alone in your cell, go ahead and do that. But, my best advice to you is that you need to associate with other prisoners who claim to be Christian, and who can encourage you, and whom you can encourage."

  We didn't talk about this question any more, but I know Marcus took my advice. The question about the Bible translation would return a few times. But over time, week in and week out, Marcus grew to trust me as a true brother in Christ, and I grew to appreciate his desire to learn and to keep himself right with God. Marcus wanted to do the right thing. He had been on the wrong path long enough, and now he wanted to go where God was.

  Over the years, people have questioned me about Marcus's sincerity of faith. If they could have looked into his eyes and spoken to his heart, as I did for months, they would understand his great desire to make things right. He had lived wrongly for far too long, for him, every detail mattered greatly. I had to explain the meaning of grace and how it was applied many times before he was able to relax this concern. Once he could see that being a Christian made him right in God's sight, no matter what, he was able to lay aside many of his fears.

  I visited Marcus each week, I saw that my goal of studying the Bible with him would have to be put on hold. During each visit, he brought up another question that bothered him.

  His chief concern was that he did the right thing as far as religious practice was concerned. He had plenty of experiences doing wrong things, and now that he was getting right with God, he wanted to make certain that every little detail was proper and correct. Other prison ministers have assured me that this tendency to swing from total lawbreaker to profound law keeper is a normal reaction on the part of many prisoners.

  As I've mentioned, when a person in prison finds God, most of what they expect about God is expressed in terms of rule keeping. They have been blatant rule breakers, so their change to an opposite kind of life means they see God as the ultimate rule keeper. The concept is rather simple. Leaving one kind of life for another means a big turnabout—hence keeping the rules instead of breaking them.

  Of course, this approach to faith is very legalistic in nature, and I am uncomfortable with a legalistic faith. I come from a legalistic religious background myself, and I am very much aware of its dangers.

  Much of my own upbringing focused on law keeping. I was taught to serve God because obedience was commanded, and every aspect of faith was command-oriented. You do only what you are commanded to do, and you dare not go beyond the command. To institute new things is to "innovate." All innovations are sin. The Bible is used to support this approach by emphasizing the scripture that "whosoever shall add" to the commands of scripture will be condemned by Cod (Revelation 22:18). This principle in the Bible is sound, but its legalistic use fills spiritual life with fear and guilt.

  Being raised in legalism, I found that service to God is always suspect. "Have I failed God in some way?" "Will God condemn me because I somehow neglected to cross a Y or dot a T in my service to him?"

  I hoped to spare Marcus from a legalistic faith. I saw my role as a shepherd lead
ing him away from the dangerous swift waters of legalism, and toward the beautiful still waters of grace. Because Marcus's self-esteem was very low, I found myself constantly encouraging him to accept God's love and grace.

  "Marcus, you must understand what it means to be a son of God. God looks on you just as he looked on Jesus. Do you remember what God said about Jesus?"

  "I don't know what you mean. Are you talking about when Jesus got baptized?" Marcus asked.

  "That's one of the times. The other was when Jesus was transfigured on the mountain. God spoke from heaven about Jesus. Do you remember what God said?" I pressed.

  "Yes, I do," he replied. "He said, 'This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.'"

  "Right. My point is that God thinks of you that way now. When he looks at you, he says, 'This is my beloved son, Marcus, in whom I am well pleased,'" I explained.

  "I don't know if I can believe that," he confessed. "I have been so evil and done such bad things, I don't see how he could ever look on me that way."

  "But he does, Marcus. It's what's called unconditional love. God loves you without conditions. He loves you for who you are. It doesn't matter what you've done in the past; all that matters Is that now you are his child. Everything you do and everything you want to do is to please him. He knows that, and that is why he takes great pleasure in you," I reassured him.

  "I just have a hard time believing that," he said.

  "Well, you must believe it. You can't earn a better place with God than where you are right now. You don't need to worry about getting everything right. Everything about you is already right, as far as God is concerned, because you are his child."

  I emphasized this to Marcus because I'd learned that the real problem with legalism is that your faith shifts subtly to yourself and your ability to "keep the rules" rather than staying focused on Jesus. As long as you think you have kept the rules, then you are all right with God. You start looking at others, and you notice that they don't keep the same rules you do, and you begin to condemn them in your heart. "What kind of a Christian can he be if he doesn't keep the rules?" Before you know it, you start eliminating other people from the pool of Christians you associate with simply because you disagree about the rules. That attitude does nothing but poison your faith. I wanted the best possible faith for Marcus.

  On one of our visits, Marcus complained about a problem that had developed and that he didn't know how to deal with. As it turns out, the solution was very simple.

  "I get a lot of mail," he began. "Most of it is unsolicited publications, like magazines. I don't mind getting religious materials and letters from people I've never heard of before, but I really don't like getting pornographic material. It always comes in a brown paper wrapping, and everyone knows what it is."

  "I know what you mean," I responded. "I sometimes receive the same thing in the mail. I just throw it away."

  "Yeah, but you don't understand," he protested. "I used to use that kind of stuff to get myself ready before I committed my crimes. I really don't want to even see that stuff anymore because it reminds me of the kind of man I used to be."

  It was clear from the sound of his voice and the expression on his face that receiving the pornography deeply troubled him. I was on the verge of defeat. Here was an area of his life that was still very vulnerable, and he wanted the temptation gone. "What sort of pictures are we talking about?" I asked.

  "Oh, you know what I mean, naked women in lewd positions or girls in provocative poses," he replied.

  This surprised me. Why did prurient pictures of women bother him? Yet, here he was, obviously feeling great spiritual anxiety. What did this mean? Perhaps the point was not whether the pictures were of men or of women, but that they were lewd. I welcomed the fact that he didn't want to go back to those feelings or memories.

  "Have you spoken about this to the guards who bring your mail?" I asked. "Have you spoken to the chaplain about this?" "No," he replied.

  "Don't they censor your mail? I'm surprised they would let something like this pass," I exclaimed.

  "No, they do that all the time," he said. "They'll open everything else I get in the mail, but this will come unopened."

  "Well, I'm really shocked!" I said.

  "I'm really bothered by it," he confessed.

  "Why don't you explain this to the chaplain or to the prison authorities in charge of your mail, and simply tell them that you don't want to get this kind of stuff. Ask that whenever they see it, to throw it away and not give it to you," I suggested.

  "I suppose I could do that," he replied.

  And that was that. The subject never came up again. I believe he took my advice.

  The prison system and the rules about receiving published materials have always amazed me. An inmate cannot receive a book or a Bible unless il comes from a publishing house. As a visitor, I could not simply give a book to Marcus to read. If he were to have it, I would have to purchase it from a bookstore or a publishing house, and they would have to send it to him. On the other hand, pornographic material can come flying in, and no one bothers to stop it. Where are the priorities and good judgment in this? I don't see much.

  On July 4,2014, Marcus was in the news again. He had attended a church service in the prison chapel on July 3, and as the service concluded, Marcus was attacked. Someone tried to cut his throat. The attacker did not succeed, but only scratched Marcus's neck. I knew we would have some serious things to discuss when I saw him on July 6.

  When I arrived for my visit, Chaplain Lui met me at the prison guard's desk and escorted me to a private consultation room. He wanted to talk with me before I saw Marcus . I immediately wondered if the situation was worse than I thought.

  "I want to know if you plan to say anything to the media about Marcus's experience," he began. "We don't want you to speak to the media at all."

  "I wasn't planning to say anything to anyone about it," I responded.

  "Well, the people who called you about Marcus's baptism didn't throw away your phone number. They will probably call you again to see what your take on this matter is," he explained.

  "That's true," I said.

  "The prison is very upset about what happened, and I want to assure you that special steps are being taken so that nothing like this will ever happen again," he continued. "Every time the media brings attention to Marcus that just makes it more dangerous for him and harder for us to protect him. You must not say anything to the newspapers, to the radio, to television or to anyone about what happened to Marcus," he emphasized.

  "I appreciate the extra steps that are going to be taken to protect Marcus," I told him. "I wouldn't have thought such a thing could happen here, but I'm just glad Marcus wasn't hurt. I don't intend to speak to anyone about it."

  At the time, I believed the chaplain's words. He seemed sincerely embarrassed about the whole thing, and it looked as if the prison would not allow anything like this to happen again.

  I met Marcus in our usual room, but this time he came with handcuffs and leg irons that had to be removed before he could see me. I wondered why he was being punished for being attacked. Apparently, this is the normal practice in the whole prison system. Anyone who gets in trouble is automatically punished with solitary confinement.

  "Man, those handcuffs hurt," Marcus said as he sat down at the table across from me. "You can see the imprint on my wrists." He held out his hands for me to see.

  "Why do they have you in handcuffs?" I asked, confused.

  "It's the standard prison reaction to what happened. Since I was attacked, both me and the guy who came after me were put in the 'hole" Marcus explained. "We'll have to stay there until this is all cleared up. I don't guess that guy will be let out at all."

  "Can you tell me what happened?" I asked.

  "Sure. I had gone to church in the prison chapel," he explained. "After the service, I remained in my pew a little longer to think about the sermon. Suddenly, I felt a pressure around my neck. Someone had grabb
ed me and had wrapped their arm under my chin. I began to struggle, and I remember my glasses flying off. As I fell to the floor, I felt my breath being cut off. While we were wrestling around on the floor, he brought his other hand over and dragged something across my neck. You can see the scratch it made!" he said showing me the noticeable red line across his throat.

  "What was it he scratched you with?" I probed.

  "It was a toothbrush. He had used tape to attach a disposable razor to it, and was trying to cut my throat!" Marcus exclaimed. "But the tape didn't hold, and all he could do was scratch me."

  "Did you know him? Why did he want to kill you?" I asked.

  "No, I didn't know him. He's a Malay who was only transferred to my unit a couple of weeks ago," Marcus said. "I have heard that he was really unhappy about being here in prison and was looking for a way to be deported and sent back to Malaysia. The best way to do that was to kill someone famous. Since I'm the only famous guy around, that meant he had to kill me in order to go back to Malaysia."

  This was funny, in a strange sort of way, because in the news at that time were stories of several Malaysian families who had made rafts and boats in a frantic effort to come to the Singapore. "I guess he would be going against traffic to go back to Malaysia," I commented. "Poor guy, he doesn't know which way to go!"

  "Yeah, I guess so," Marcus joked. I was glad he could laugh about it, but it was clear the experience shook him.

  "What do you have to say about all this?" 1 asked.

  "You know, there are times I have longed for death," he confessed. "I really don't want to go on living, at times. But this experience has made me appreciate the life I now have. I am so grateful to God that I have been spared. I praise God that I am alive!"

  "You are happy you were not hurt?" I asked.

  "Definitely," he responded. "There is so much I want to do for God here in prison, so many people I want to share the gospel with. I want to talk to my mother about my faith. I can't imagine God taking those opportunities away from me now. I am so thankful that I survived."

  It was clear to me that Marcus had no death wish. After his death, that question would be put to me several times. Although a part of Marcus wanted to die and go away forever, the man I worked and studied with and came to know was a man who appreciated the life he had left and intended to serve God as much as he could.

  "What does this attack mean in terms of the other prisoners you have to associate with?" I asked. "Does this mean there are others who may want to kill you?"

  "I don't think so," he replied. "Generally, I get along well with the other prisoners. They respect me and I respect them. Of course, you can't allow someone to take advantage of you; that's another matter altogether. No, I'd say I get along real well with the other guys in here. I don't see any of them hating me or trying to make my life harder."

  I was comforted by these words. After Marcus's murder months later at the hands of another inmate, those words would come back to haunt me, but at the time, I believed him. I felt, from what the prison chaplain had said and from what Marcus had said, that he would be safe. He had many enemies outside the prison, but he didn't know of any within it.

  Marcus then made a suggestion that caught me off guard. He said he thought my visits were a hardship on me and on my family.

  "You know, you don't have to come see me every week. If you want to stop coming, that would be all right," he said.

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "Well, I know it takes time for you to come see me, time you could be spending with your family," he began. "I know it has to cost you some money to make the trip every week to see me. I was just saying that you don't have to go to all that trouble just for me."

  "Look," I replied, "I spend plenty of time with my family, and the money it takes to come see you is well within my means. I consider it a privilege to come see you as often as I do, and I intend to keep coming, unless you don't want me to come."

  "Oh no, that's not what I'm saying," he replied. "It's just that I really appreciate all you've done, but I don't want you to think that you have to come see me."

  "Well, as it turns out," I began, "I do have to take a short vacation from seeing you this summer. I work in a summer youth camp associated with my church work. I'll be working in the middle of July with kids from ages 13 to 15. But that is the only time I plan to be gone. I intend to keep coming to see you after my camp session is done."

  "How long will you be gone?" he asked.

  "Just two weeks," I answered. "I imagine growing old along with you. I can see us as two old men, studying the Bible together every week, as we are now. I can imagine our doing this until either of us dies." I didn't realize how true my words would be.

  "Well," he said, "I just don't want to be a problem for you." "Don't worry," I replied, "you're no problem at all." It was important for me to affirm his place in my life. I intended to have a place in my heart for Marcus for a long, long time.

  If you plan many meetings during the summer months you won't have much participation. Everyone is out hiking, camping, boating, gardening or on vacation. For me, summer is always dominated by my work at a Christian Bible camp.

  This particular year, I was a director of the Intermediate Camp at Fallhall Glen, a camp just south of Changi in Singapore. The campers were early high school students. Singapore Christian Youth Camp, the camp association, does not employ any of the staff; all the workers are volunteers. That meant that I had to recruit the adult participants—cooks, cabin counselors, Bible teachers, lifeguards, a nurse, a crafts teacher and a nature leader. Trying to convince people to take time off from their jobs to work with adolescent children for free is quite a task. It takes many phone calls, letters, begging and persuasion. The whole process is time-consuming and sometimes overwhelming.

  Despite that, I was able to keep my regular weekly visits with Marcus up until July 13 before the camp session began on July 17. I had explained to Marcus that I wouldn't see him for two weeks. The schedule at camp leaves no time to think about anyone or anything else, and I'd said I would return to my regular visit after camp was over. My announcement that I'd be gone two weeks did come when he said I didn't need to continue visiting him. But I thought I'd been perfectly clear that I did not intend to stop my visits.

  The camp session went well with relatively few problems, and I was focused on my work and on the needs of the children and the staff. I did not think about Marcus at all until I received a letter in the mail. It was from my wife, Susan, and included a letter from Sherry Tang, Marcus's mother. It was quite a surprise, although I had hoped to talk with Mrs. Tang at some point.

  A part of me identified with Sherry Tang. We were both Christian parents. My son had been in some trouble with the police, too, on lesser offenses. My son once spent time in jail for his failure to pay fines for reckless driving, and then for driving with a revoked license. I remember how embarrassed I was as a Christian, yet how torn I felt as a parent. Even though he deserved punishment from Singapore’s judicial system, I still loved my son and wanted the best for him.

  I have a vivid memory of making a trip to the jail to take my son his glasses so he could take out his contacts, and having a hard time getting his contacts back from an uncooperative jail guard. My treatment by the guards as the father of a person in jail burned into my psyche. Although my experience with my son was minor in comparison to Sherry Tang's, I planned to tell him, as best as I could, that I understood something of what he felt.

  When I read his letter, I was immediately concerned. Sherry had the idea from Marcus that I planned to stop my visits. Perhaps Marcus had written her this before my last visit with him—or perhaps Marcus had not believed the assurances of my commitment to continue my visits.

  Sherry wrote, "I really appreciate the time and expense you have taken to minister to Marcus. I realize it takes time away from your family and other activities to visit him, as well as financial expense to drive to the prison." This
sounded just like what Marcus had said at our last visit.

  Sherry continued, "Marcus mentioned that your visits will cease in the near future. Since Marcus is a new Christian convert, it is very important that he have follow-up support visits. I am limited to occasional visits, phone calls and letters to Marcus, which really is not enough. The personal contact and study on a regular basis is what will keep him going. I have seen him become enthusiastic about other things, only to drop his enthusiasm after a time. I think that he is very sincere and well-grounded for starters."

  Sherry had the same idea I had about what Marcus needed, but gave an interesting insight. He feared he would treat this "Christian" thing like he'd treated many other things in his life. He would be excited about it for a time, but eventually would give it up. Sherry Tang was worried about this aspect as well.

  She said, "Is there any person or group who could possibly continue visitation, study and worship with Marcus, at least until Marcus is really well grounded in his faith? I know I'm asking a lot of strangers to do this for me."

  Her letter concluded, "I think it is especially important to continue follow-up, because Marcus is very dedicated at the moment. He has even put study pamphlets in the prison chapel for other inmates to see."

  Sherry didn't have to convince me of the importance of developing Marcus's faith. In my visits with him, I had seen Marcus's desire to "spread the word" among other inmates.

  When Susan read Sherry's letter, she immediately called her. Sherry had included a business card with her phone numbers. They had a good, long conversation about Marcus and about his faith, and she was able to reassure him that I would never desert Marcus.

  Sherry's letter had an interesting postscript: "Please do not mention to Marcus that I have pleaded with you to help me attain continued follow-up, as he has a mind of his own. I wouldn't want him to feel I am 'arranging' things for him."

  By this time, I had read Sherry's interview with Singapore State Journal. In it, she didn't reveal much understanding of the Marcus I knew, but she revealed much about his relationship with Marcus and her estranged husband, Mark. Their relationship had always been distant and rocky between Mark and Sherry, and Sherry generally kept his distance from Marcus emotionally—although she loved him deeply.

  As a young man, Marcus was incredibly passive about his future. When he and Sherry made contact, it was usually for Sherry to tell him what she thought he should do with his life. And I knew, as a father like Mark who also loved his son and found himself in a disapproving role, that these confrontations do not go well for either father or son.

  After Sherry and Mark separated and after Marcus graduated from high school, Mark told Marcus to go to the University of Singapore, and he obeyed. Marcus's alcoholism and irresponsibility got him kicked out of the University in a short time. Mark then told him to join the Army. Again, Marcus offered little argument. He joined and excelled in it due to his good physical strength. He was eventually posted to commandos and commissioned as an officer. Mark sent Marcus to live with his grandmother, Mark's mother, and later after the grandmother's complaints about Marcus, told him to move into his own apartment.

  I wanted to talk with Mark like a wife to a spouse but Mark passed away a year earlier due to complications with his diabetes and renal failure. I had learned lessons with my son that I hoped to share. I had wanted to make up for lost time and lost ground with my own son, but came to realize that a time comes when it is too late. The best I could do was just love my son, regardless.

  Throughout the world, Marcus's family name, "Tang," now conjures up images of horror and depravity. Many times, a mother faced with such infamy and with the immensity of these crimes would have abandoned his son, changed her name and left the country. I admired Sherry for his faithfulness.

  After the camp session, I wrote to her:

  Dear Sister Sherry,

  I was very happy to receive your letter. It came while I was directing a two-week session at a Christian summer camp, so I was not able to answer immediately. I felt it would be inappropriate for no me to try to contact you on my own. I imagined that you were troubled enough with people trying to contact you about Marcus, and my fears were confirmed somewhat in a conversation with the media. When your letter arrived, I was greatly overjoyed!

  I left the impression that Marcus was hounded by the press and did not want to be bothered by anyone.

  I wanted to communicate with you as a fellow father. My son has been in trouble with the police also. Although my experience is nothing comparable to yours, a part of me connects with what I imagine you are going through. I wanted to give you some comfort and try to ease your mind of the anxieties you may have.

  I know that you and my wife had a great conversation. Although she told you this, let me reiterate that I am totally committed to Marcus' faith. It was his idea that the time, travel and expense were too much for me. He said he would understand if I wanted to end our meetings. I had no such thought. As far as I am concerned, he's stuck with me! I don't intend to quit until either he refuses to meet with me, or the Lord sends me away.

  If I should have to move, I would make arrangements for someone else to continue to meet with him until he feels there is no longer a need. Sometimes, when Marcus gets a thought in his mind, it is very difficult to get it corrected or changed! I do not intend to end my visits with him.

  I wanted you to know that I had worked enough with Marcus to understand some of his quirks, particularly his ability to set his mind on something and not let go. I had seen this in some of our discussions regarding the Bible translations and other issues. Once he had his mind made up, he didn't like to change it. I continued,

  Obviously, Marcus is not in an ideal circumstance to build a strong Christian faith, but we are doing the best we can. Marcus has been somewhat evangelistic in his desire to share the gospel with other inmates. He takes the Lord's Supper every Sunday in his cell, unless it is offered in the prison chapel. By the way, that was his idea, which I thought was excellent.

  Marcus asks questions and listens when I open the Bible to show him what I understand the Scriptures to say on many subjects. He is very much like a sponge, trying to absorb as much as he possibly can. He wants to get his life right in every detail. I tried to reassure Mark about Marcus's safety.

  Judging from the reaction of the prison chaplain and the guards to the attempt on Marcus's life, I believe the chapel is more secure now than it has been in the past. I don't have as much reservation about it as I did before.

  I want to tell you that Marcus's respect for you is profound. He regards your opinions as almost holy. His love for you goes very deep. As you mentioned, he is his own man; and I know he probably would resent any effort on your part to arrange things for him. But I felt you needed to know how highly he regards the both of you.

  I hope we can keep in touch. My wife mentioned that you would like to meet us sometime. That would be great. I'll close with a comment about your son by a prison guard on my last visit. He said, 'In spite of what he did, he is really a decent guy.' I told him I thought so, too.

  God bless you,

  Eng Minghao

  Sherry never answered this letter or contacted me. The next time I heard from him was after Marcus's death. I had hoped to have a closer relationship with this man because we had a common concern for Marcus. Sherry had to walk her own, very difficult path.

  When Sherry and I finally did meet to plan Marcus's memorial service, I told him more of my perceptions about Marcus, as well as things I had discussed with Marcus that I think he would have wanted to discuss with his father.

  My heart goes out for Sherry Tang. I knew her son, and I knew his role as a mother. I admired her for her courage and support of her son, despite the world's hatred. I respected her for her efforts to make up for lost ground. I saw her make great effort to overcome her mistakes as a mother.

  But my work was to be with his son. He was the one I had to focus upon and help devel
op his faith. My heart went out to his father, but it was the son to whom I was sent. I would discover he was a normal human being, and that I liked him. The son became my friend. Marcus's death, I was interviewed once again by many people from television, radio, magazines and newspapers. They all seemed to have the same question and concerns, and I was often asked how I felt about Marcus personally.

  I told them I felt I had become his friend, and he had become my friend. I remember that one comedian picked up on that and built a routine around it. I guess he found it incredible that I—or anyone—could have a friendship with someone like Marcus Tang.

  The comedian ended his routine with a twist on the advertisement against drunk driving, and said, "Friends don't let friends disembowel an unarmed woman." I presume that the unarmed woman was Janice . Most people can get past the horror of Marcus's crimes; it's all they see. To them, a friendship with Marcus Tang seemed unthinkable—even comical.

  Yet, Marcus and I did develop a good relationship. Week after week, I visited him and we talked about whatever was on his mind. Eventually, we began to study the Bible together to answer his questions about the meaning of life and faith in God. Marcus wanted to study the book of Revelation and the apocalypse—the end of time, so I chose the book of Hebrews to study first as an introduction to Revelation "Hebrews has keys that unlock the mysterious doors of Revelation," I told him.

  What Marcus didn't understand was that Revelation, as well as Hebrews, is not so much about the end of the world as it is about faith. Its theme and purpose is to encourage people to hang onto their faith, no matter what happens or how dire their circumstances seem. I knew Marcus needed this message.

  "The most important thing in life, Marcus, is to have faith," I would tell him. "There are all kinds of terrible circumstances which, I think, God sends us, that demand we believe on him and follow through with that belief."

  "I can see that in my own life," Marcus replied. "Although it took bad things to bring me to the position I'm in, I don't think I would have any kind of faith in God without them."

  "Yes," I said, "it is amazing how God can use the bad things in our lives to bring about the good things he wants to bless us with."

  I have often counselled marriage partners to just talk with each other in intimate ways in the belief that such close, personal talk will produce trust. Trust is the single most important element necessary in maintaining a healthy marriage or a friendship. It is a window into another's heart. Jesus talked about this in Matthew when describing that people are either good or evil. I le said, "For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matthew 12:34).

  Each week, as Marcus and I would talk about what we had studied, and about what was going on in his life, I could see his heart opening up to me.

  "I want to do what's right and think what's right," Marcus confessed, "but sometimes it's so hard because of the people I have to deal with."

  "I know what you mean," I said. "I have no idea what it's like in prison, of course, other than from my visits with you, but I know people are still people, no matter where you are. I can imagine you have all kinds of people to deal with who make life hard for you."

  "Yeah," he continued, "I generally get along fine with most people, but every now and then you come across someone who is a real jerk about things, and it tries your faith."

  "That's why we have to keep believing and not give up," I explained. "God knows our circumstance, and he can give us the strength we need to deal with anyone who comes our way."

  One habit we developed as we got into the study of the Bible was to end our meetings in prayer. Prayer is a vital part of faith, and as an older Christian mentoring a younger C hristian, it was important to me that Marcus' hear my prayers on his behalf. It was also important for me to hear his prayers.

  "We need to take turns praying," I told Marcus. "I'll start with the first prayer, but next week, I would like to have you say the closing prayer." I looked a little bewildered and uncertain. "You need to do this," I continued, "because you need to learn how to pray and how to get more comfortable by praying. The more I hear you, the more I'm able to coach you on how to improve your prayers."

  "Okay, if you'll coach me along, I'll give it a try," he said.

  When the next week came around, Marcus prayed his first prayer between us. "Dear father in heaven, thank you for sending Eng Minghao into my life, and having him help me to better understand your words and your ways," he began. There were periods of pauses when he had to think about what he wanted to say, and he did it haltingly, but he managed to get good words out. "And please bless my dad and his wife, and my mom too," he continued. "Help me to be a better person. Amen."

  "That was good, Marcus," I said. "Your concerns were from the heart and that's what matters to God."

  As the weeks passed, we developed the habit of talking briefly about the concerns that needed to be included in our prayers. Marcus's always involved his family—his father and stepmother and especially his mother. Marcus rarely spoke of his younger brother, David. They were about six years apart in age, and it was obvious there was little relationship between them. But he cared deeply about his mother and his father.

  "My mother has got some kind of weird belief that God is in the trees and in the winds and in animals and things. I really wish she could come back to her faith," Marcus said. "Well, we will pray for her and for her faith too," I replied. "I know you love her and care for her."

  "Yeah, I'm trying to make an arrangement with a publishing house to ship her some of the materials," he continued.

  "What sort of materials?" I asked.

  "Oh, about the creation of the world and how evolution is untrue. That's where I got my faith in God, from those materials, and I just know if she would look at them, she could get her faith back too," he explained.

  "Well, it doesn't always work that way, Marcus," I answered, "but I'll pray for her too. Who knows what God can do?"

  When you pray with someone about his family, and he lets you into his life and allows you to see and feel his worries, you get closer to his heart. You begin to feel friendship.

  One of the issues that bothered Marcus most was his responsibility toward the families of his victims. Everything he owned had been taken away from him, and there was nothing else he could do for them. He felt very bad about the pain and suffering he had brought them, but what more could he do than what he had done during his trial? But there was a lawyer who represented Janice Tham, and had made it his goal in life to make Marcus pay.

  "This lawyer for the families of my victims came here under false pretenses," Marcus explained. "He was supposed to be working on another case, but while he was here, he pulled out my file and learned that I had a job in prison. I make a whopping 25 cents an hour for cleaning out the bathroom. Well, this guy went and filed a motion with a judge to freeze my canteen account so that my measly 25 cents an hour would be given to the late family of Janice and Kian Beng," he complained.

  "Why is this a problem?" I asked.

  "Because it doesn't allow me to do anything for myself, such as buy postage stamps, coffee or cigarettes from the canteen," he answered. "I haven't had a cup of coffee or a cigarette for so long, I can't stand it!" he said, his voice rising. "I can't even write a letter!"

  "I see what you mean," I replied.

  "I feel bad for the families of my victims, but my 25 cents an hour divided among them is nothing. But that same 25 cents makes life more bearable for me," he said. "I can live being uncomfortable about my crimes, but this is ridiculous!"

  I could see how the lawyer could feel this was a symbolic act of justice. On the other hand, Marcus was paying for his crimes by being in prison. Is the point of prison to torment him over and over again? I felt for him, and I felt for his anguish, too.

  Over the weeks, our friendship grew. I looked forward to my weekly trip to see him, and I thought of things to talk about when we weren't studying the Bible. Our visits had become a highlight
of my regular weekly duties.

  But did Marcus consider me a friend? I think the answer is in a Thanksgiving card he gave me on my last visit. I did not know, of course, nor did he, that it would be my last visit. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving Day, 2014.

  On that day, Marcus gave me the card, and below its Thanksgiving message he had written: "Dear Minghao, Thank you for your friendship, and for taking the time and effort to help me understand God's word. God bless you and your family! Sincerely, Marcus Tang." That card is one of my most precious possessions. It is precious because it came from a friend who was willing to express the feelings of his heart.

  Marcus Tang was my friend. I will never forget May 28,2014. It was Monday morning, my day off. Susan and I were driving home from the gym, passing the time in small talk, including things I intended to mention to Marcus when I would see him on Wednesday.

  "I want to tell him how our day went and how much I appreciated the card he gave me. It will probably be one of my most treasured possessions," I said. Just as we were approaching home, I heard something on the radio about Marcus Tang. I quickly turned up the volume to hear the news bulletin. The announcer said that Marcus had been attacked and was taken to the hospital with massive head injuries. "What's happened to Marcus?" I exclaimed. Those words were barely out of my mouth when the newsflash was updated: Marcus Tang was dead.

  Marcus had been assigned to clean a bathroom facility in a recreational area at the prison. He wasn't alone. Two other inmates were working with him. One of them, Adrian Lim, went to the weight-lifting machines in the gym and removed a weighted bar. He came up behind Marcus while he was cleaning a bathroom and struck him in the head. He beat him repeatedly until Marcus fell to the floor unconscious. Then he went after the other inmate and attacked him too. No one was ever able to establish a motive for Lim's attack. Although many people on the radio and in the newspapers made speculations—including racial revenge, bribery, drug deals and mental illness—as far as I know, it was never clear why the attack occurred.

  I was in a hurry to learn more about Marcus's death. It did not occur to me that the media, who was hungry about Marcus's baptism, would want to know what 1 thought about his death, as well. When I entered the house, I saw the answering machine blinking. It held several calls, and the phone was ringing again. It was difficult to know what to say. I was as shocked as everyone else. I was stricken with grief. I don't know why I'd never thought this would happen.

  Listening to the messages was hard as each one was interrupted by another phone call. Each caller wanted to set up an appointment to interview me. I had to change my clothes quickly and run to my office where the interviews would take place.

  I was in a state of shock and denial, hoping against all hope that this was an awful mistake. I had no time to deal with my own feelings. People magazine took a picture of me that day, holding up the Thanksgiving Day card Marcus had given me only a few days before. The picture showed how tired and weary I felt. I thought the media attention over Marcus's baptism was rough. This was worse.

  In the frenzy of the media coverage, I also received phone calls, cards, and letters from people expressing sympathy for my loss. Many made positive comments about my baptizing Marcus, and how I had ministered to him. No one said anything derogatory or critical of my relationship with him.

  However, among those who contacted me were women who had gotten to know Marcus through the mail. He had expressed great appreciation to each of them for showing an interest in him. Apparently, he used words that were easily misinterpreted, for some of these women were convinced they were in love with Marcus, and he was in love with them. I heard from six women, and I think there were at least that many more I never heard from.

  One woman made an appointment for counseling for her grief about Marcus, and while we were talking, I received a phone call from another woman several states away, crying about the same thing. It was strange. Some of the people were angry and jealous when they learned through the media that Marcus had sent them all the same poems he had written and used the same language in his letters that conveyed great feeling for them.

  Most of them thought Marcus was a martyr who sacrificed himself to push through the Mortgage Arrears Forgiveness Plan and to teach the 1% a lesson. Another woman believed she was going to marry him. I knew nothing about these relationships, yet I was asked to explain what Marcus meant when he spoke to each of his supporter of his love and appreciation. I was in an unforeseen and painful situation. I will never know why Marcus Tang developed these relationships, and how they fit into the puzzle of Marcus Tang.

  I received one phone call I had expected. Sherry called to say she was coming to identify Marcus's body and prepare for closing his estate. Marcus had requested cremation and wanted no funeral service. We agreed to meet at Sherry's motel room to discuss my experiences with Marcus and to help her cope with their grief. Sherry also wanted my help in planning a memorial service.

  Susan and I met Marcus, brother, David Tang at their room and tried to overcome the situation's initial awkwardness. "It is good meeting you, although I wish the circumstances were better," I began. Susan had spoken with David over the phone after he'd written his letter asking me not to forsake Marcus, but I had never spoken to him or met him.

  "We saw Marcus today," Sherry began. "One side of his face was bashed in. But what hurt me the most was that he was handcuffed. Can you imagine that? He's lying there dead, and they've still got to handcuff him, as if he were still a threat to someone!" I learned years later of the common prison policy to handcuff every inmate when they are out of the prison facility, regardless. But I didn't know that then.

  "I'm shocked. Why would they handcuff him now?" I asked. I identified with Sherry's feelings.

  We began to talk about Marcus and about Mark's role as his father. We talked about three hours. I could identify with Sherry on many things, and I tried to share experiences about Marcus that related to his father.

  "Marcus said that Mark used to take him to church when he was a little boy," I said.

  "Yes, that's true," Sherry responded.

  "He never understood why Mark stopped going to church."

  "Well, Mark and I were going through some really hard times then," Sherry began. "I think he was becoming manic-depressive due to his business failures. He also owed Public Housing Authority many months in arrears. We were harassed many times by PHA officers and even received letters of demand from PHA’s lawyers demanding we sell our flat. That really broke Mark’s heart and led him to touch base with Occupy Movement. Anyway, he stopped going to church, but I kept on going, taking Marcus with me. The last time I went with Marcus, Mark and I had a horrible fight when I got home. He thought I was trying to make him feel guilty for not going to church. It was so bad that I never wanted to experience that again. So I decided to stay at home, read the Bible and worship God in private," she explained.

  "Marcus never understood why you stopped going," I responded.

  "I know. I always meant to talk with him about that, but somehow we never got on that subject," he said.

  "Marcus had a great deal of love and admiration for you," I told Sherry. "I don't know if you understand how much he loved you, and Mark."

  "Yes, I don't think he ever got over our estrangement," Sherry replied. “Mark then led Marcus astray with the Occupy Movement and the terrorist organisation somehow brainwashed Mark and Marcus.”

  I wanted to pass on to Sherry something Marcus had told me about his faith. "Marcus told me that his journey of faith began with some material you had sent him. He said he did not believe in God until he went through those materials. Me credits you with giving him his Christian faith," 1 told him.

  Sherry was shocked. "I've never heard that," he replied. "I always wondered why he wanted to be baptized and when he started believing in God. I remember sending him those materials and hoping they would do some good, but I never heard back from him about them, so I just thought he threw
them away," Mark said.

  "Why did you send those materials to him?" I asked. "Why did you start going back to church?"

  "Well, it is because of our younger son, David. He went to the University of Singapore and while there, got connected to a Christian student center. David became a Christian and when he came home, he urged me to go back to church. I'm just overwhelmed to find this out about Marcus. This is wonderful news for me!" Mark said.

  We talked also about the memorial service. Sherry wondered if such a thing was appropriate. "I think it is," I answered, "because Marcus still has people who love him and who cared for him. The service is not for him, but for you and for others who cared about him."

  Sherry Tang made a remark that stuck in my mind. "I think Marcus didn't want a funeral or a grave marker because he hated his notoriety so much. I think he wanted to disappear and be forgotten and never be heard of or remembered again." I agreed with her. I know Marcus hated being infamous. He was tired of being hated. For him, death would be sweet in the sense that he would no longer have to deal with people. But his desire was unrealistic. People would not easily forget Marcus Tang.

  Sherry gave me strict instructions. "We would like to use your church building. Don't tell anyone about the memorial service, especially the media. We have two camera crews we trust who will be there. I don't want any local media involved at all," he explained.

  "Okay," I replied and looked at him questioningly. Sherry continued, "You see, our younger son, David, plans to be there and he does not want to be photographed. He has changed his last name, legally, to disassociate himself from his brother, and he does not want to be recognized on camera."

  "I understand," I said. "I won't say a thing." Later, after the service was over, I received an angry phone call from one of the local television stations. They felt I had betrayed them. I had to explain that this was the wish of the family.

  "Do you expect a small crowd?" I asked.

  "I would like for you to invite no more than six families from your congregation to attend the service," Sherry said. "They must be people you feel confident can keep a secret. Under no circumstances is the word to leak out."

  Who could I invite? I could come up with six names easily enough, but what about those who were not invited? Would they feel slighted? I would have to use my best judgment, and explain to the rest that Marcus's family requested this, too.

  It was late when we finally got home. I still had phone calls to make, and I hoped the people I had to call would understand. Each family felt honored to be invited to the service and swore to keep the service secret.

  Before I went to bed, I tried to put together a few thoughts for the memorial. Certain words and phrases in the Bible speak of a Christian's view of death. Paul's words in Philippians seemed especially relevant to me. "To live is Christ, and to die is gain," and "To depart and be with Christ...is better by far" (Philippians 1:21,23).

  Although death is our enemy and is something we dread and fear, the Christian can look at death and not be afraid. For Christians, death can be sweet, for it takes us to live with Christ. Christ is the center of a Christian's life, and any time with him is the best time. Marcus was now with Christ. Some unbelievers will claim Marcus is burning in hell, but we who believe know better.

  Finally, I went to sleep, exhausted and numb. Tomorrow we would remember a man most people would rather forget. Marcus’s memorial service was set for July 1, 2014.

  Sherry had asked me to arrange for a place for his second son, David, to stay. I was planning to ask someone from the church, when Mark approached me. "There's been a change of plans," he began.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "David won't be alone. He has some friends with him from the church where he worships, and they would rather stay in a motel than in a home," he explained.

  "That's no problem at all, but I thought he was coming alone and needed a place to stay," I said.

  "That's what I thought, too," Sherry said. "You see, the relationship between David and me is not the best. There are strained feelings that have not been resolved." Sherry told me that Mark Tang was embarrassed that his effort to take care of his son had failed. He seemed to be a man who had let much time pass without reconnecting, and now was trying to cover much ground too soon. He was doing the best he could.

  The church people I had invited arrived and took their places in the till pews. A few flowers were at the front, but nothing like what is typical for funerals. The memorial service was very plain and unadorned.

  In the audience was someone I didn't expect—a woman who had grown close to Sherry Tang despite every reason to avoid them. She was a sister of one of Marcus's victims – the receptionist at level 1 of Public Housing Authority - Jasmine. Sherry had invited Jasmine to attend Marcus's memorial. I was only beginning to absorb the irony of that relationship when she introduced me to her sister. She had brought Jasmine with her, but had not told her what the occasion was. She knew Jasmine was still bitter and angry about their brother-in-law's and sister’s death, and the way Marcus had killed both of them. Jasmine was also the one who hired a lawyer to ensure Marcus measly pay was deducted to compensate for the death of her sister, Janice.

  Apparently, Jasmine had found some healing through her association with Sherry, and she wanted Sherry to be healed as well. I could see clearly that Jasmine was in a state of overwhelming emotions. She was twisting a tissue in her hands and dabbing periodically at tears running down her cheeks. She constantly looked around for a way of escape. But she was in a situation she couldn't escape, so she took a short respite by herself in the back of the church. She stayed there throughout the service and wept silently. My heart went out to her, but I had other duties to perform, and I could not help her.

  I asked one of the men from the church to lead some congregational songs. We sang, "Why Did My Savior Come to Earth?" and "The Old Rugged Cross." Afterwards, I stood up and began to speak.

  "We are here for a memorial service on behalf of Marcus Tang. Many of the people here did not know Marcus, but have come by invitation to offer comfort to those who knew Marcus and loved him. In the Bible, God is described as the God of all comfort who is able to comfort us when we need it. We are then capable of comforting others. I hope that in this service God's comfort will be felt by all those in need of it. One way we find comfort is by remembering fond memories of the life that was lived. We are going to ask those in the audience who would like to share some of their thoughts and memories of Marcus to speak them now." Then I sat down and waited.

  Sherry was the first to stand. "I want you to know that despite the terrible things Marcus did, he was my son, and I loved him very much. I have so many good memories of Marcus" as a little boy. He brought so much happiness to our house, and we felt blessed to have him as our son. Some of my fondest memories are when I was trying to teach him how to play tennis. I felt we grew very close to each other then." Sherry continued on for a while recounting his memories as a mother.

  Sherry paused to look at Jasmine sitting at the back of the church. "We are here to remember Marcus Tang and how much we loved him. That is not to say that those of you here who have suffered at Marcus's hands are not to be remembered, too. We do not justify or make light of any of Marcus's crimes. Our hearts go out to you who have been hurt by Marcus. We mourn with you, and we cry with you, for those were terrible things Marcus did. We know you understand the feeling of losing a loved one, and we hope you can join us in our sorrow and loss over Marcus."

  Then Sherry spoke about Marcus's faith. "Minghao told me just last night that Marcus claimed I led him to his faith in Christ. I am humbled to hear those words and to realize what influence I've had on my son. I did not know he credited me with giving him his faith. I have made many mistakes in my life, and one of the greatest was trying to live the Christian life without the church. I have finally learned that I cannot do it alone. I need others to encourage me and to strengthen me. I would encourage everyone here ton
ight to heed the lesson 1 have learned so painfully. God help me, I intend never to abandon my church or my faith again."

  After she sat down, there was an awkward silence. I imagine the people were a little stunned by Sherry's strong message.

  Then Jasmine Tham came to the front to speak. I was curious about what she would have to say about Marcus, since Marcus hardly spoke of her. But it became clear, very quickly, that Jasmine had nothing to say about Marcus either. "How do I introduce myself- as the sister of one? My sister and brother-in-law were murdered by Marcus," she began.

  “Kian Beng had the choice of stepping down from a as PHA Chief a year ago due to mounting public pressure over the high costs of public flats and arrears management. Singaporean citizens, he considered his friends, disliked him for his role as PHA Chief. He said to me, how can I do that, I'm a PHA Chief, this is who I am. And that's how he'd want to be remembered. He was a public servant. He leaves a legacy of truth, justice, and integrity behind him. A legacy I've done a lousy job living up to the last few days even though I am just a receptionist in PHA. A legacy which has become increasingly difficult for everyone in the criminal justice system to live up to, as of late due to the threats of Occupy Movement.”

  The rest of her words became a blur to me as I realized she was not speaking about Marcus at all. She was trying desperately to connect with his Janice and Kian Beng, and he was using this occasion, whether appropriate or not, to do it. All of his memories were about herself and Janice. Not a word was said of his brother.

  After Jasmine sat down, Marcus’s brother, David, stood up to speak. I wondered if he knew Marcus. What kind of relationship, if any, existed between the brothers? I remembered that David had his last name changed legally to distance himself from his brother. Was he here just to see his mother, Sherry? Did he care about his brother at all? He spoke in grand generalities about the pain of death and the hope of salvation that every Christian embraces. He emphasized that Jesus does understand our feelings. What he had to say was fine, but it had nothing to do with Marcus Tang.

  His words could have been my words at the funeral of a person I'd never met. Most of the funerals I've conducted in my ministry career have been for people I've never met. I know how easy it is to speak in grand generalities about life and death and hope someone is listening, when few are. What a strange experience. We were at a memorial service, and two of the three speakers never said a word about the deceased.

  After David's friend sat down, another period of silence followed. I was waiting to see if anyone else wanted to speak about Marcus. When I was assured no one else did, I returned to the podium for some closing words.

  "Every life is important. Some would mock us for gathering here to remember a life that has caused so much hurt. But we come to focus not on the crimes he committed, but on the faith that changed his life. I know Marcus believed in Clod and trusted Christ to save him. I baptized him, studied with him, and got to know his heart. He was truly sorry for the murders he had done.”

  "Many people were shocked and scandalized by his baptism," I continued, "but I think their shock is really anger. They cannot conceive that anyone who committed Marcus's terrible crimes could come to Christ. If he did, indeed, come to Christ, they would rather Christ turn his face away and reject him. But they did not understand why Jesus came to earth. He came to save sinners. Marcus was a sinner.

  "Their anger is illustrated by a story in a book by Max Lucado called Six Hours One Friday.

  Once a Bible school teacher had a little girl in class who never spoke. Week after week, lesson after lesson, no matter what others said or did, this little girl was absolutely quiet. The teacher began to wonder what kind of home she must have come from that taught her to be so still.

  Then one day, the teacher was teaching a lesson about heaven. She tried to paint the most vivid pictures of golden streets and a beautiful river flowing through it, with wonderful trees on the riverbank that produced fruit that would heal you. She noticed, as she was teaching the lesson, that this particular little girl was focused on her every word.

  At the end of the class, the little girl held up her hand as if to ask a question. This was a momentous occasion. Was the little girl who never spoke going to ask a question? The teacher called on the girl and the girl did speak, but her question was piercing. She asked, 'Is heaven for little girls like me?'

  "I am struck by that question. My experience with Marcus reminds me of that story—only Marcus is the little child. Instead of being in the class, I imagine him outside, looking through a window. In the end, he is asking the same question, 'Is heaven for boys like me? I've been terribly bad. Could I possibly go to heaven, too?' You see, the answer for both the little girl and for Marcus is the same: Yes, heaven is for people just like you."

  I saw I had the attention of the deceived sister in the back of the church. She was still crying, but she was staring hard at me. "Marcus confessed to me his great remorse for his crimes. He wished he could do something for the families of his victims to make it right, but there was nothing he could do. He turned to God because there was no one else to turn to, but he showed great courage in his daring to ask the question, 'Is heaven for me, too?' I think many people are resentful of him for asking that question. But he dared to ask, and he dared to believe the answer."

  Then I spoke directly to the two sisters of one of Marcus's victims. "We strongly sympathize with those of you who have been hurt by Marcus's criminal activities. We share in your sorrow, too. Although we are involved in a memorial for Marcus, I want you to know that we care about your feelings, too. The thing we are remembering here is that Marcus turned to God for forgiveness, and God is willing to forgive someone as bad as Marcus. I believe if Marcus were here right now, he would look at you and apologize for what he did to your brother. He was a changed man. He was being remade into the image of Jesus Christ."

  We ended the service with a prayer and stayed to visit with one another. I went back to speak to the sister in the back pew. "I appreciate your being here, despite the fact that I understand you were deceived into coming," I said.

  She said, "Yes, I was upset when I first got here because I was still bitter about Marcus Tang, and I had not forgiven him. But hearing you describe him as you knew him has helped me. I believe God has forgiven him, and I can forgive him and move on with my life."

  "May God bless you and comfort you in your loss. I'm deeply touched by your words," 1 said.

  Afterwards, Shari Tang gave me an honorarium for conducting the service. This was unexpected, but was graciously received. Susan and 1 took the money and bought an expensive wall clock for our living room. We call it Marcus's clock. It reminds us of the lessons I learned from my experiences with Marcus, and of the value of time well spent.

  I was deeply shocked by Marcus's death. I had anticipated visiting him and studying with him for many years. That I was given only seven months to work with him was inconceivable to me. I was forced to ask myself if I had prepared him to meet his God. The clock reminds me to use my time wisely, for time passes quickly. In the end, I believe I did prepare him for his death. He was ready to die. I was the one who was unprepared.

  About a week after the memorial service, I received a phone call from David, Marcus's younger brother. "I will be in Changi sometime next week, and thought I'd like to come by and visit with you," he said.

  "That would be wonderful," I responded, but the next week came and went, and I never heard back from him. Since his identity is a secret, I had no way of contacting him. I was sad. I would have liked to talk with him.

  I continued receiving letters from Marcus's girlfriends, but gradually those stopped coming. One woman remained in contact for a few years, but eventually, that ended too.

  A movie producer contacted me about making a movie about Marcus from a Christian perspective. I had her contact Sherry but she was not interested. She felt it was exploitative and wanted nothing to do with it. The project died, never gettin
g funding to proceed.

  From time to time someone remembers my association with Marcus Tang, but for the most part, my life has returned to normal. Because of Marcus, I have become involved in prison ministry. Now, I am visiting five prisoners in five different prisons. It is strange that I had never been to a prison before knowing Marcus Tang. Now, that work occupies much of my time.

  Marcus Tang changed my life. My present prison ministry is an ongoing memorial to him, and my entire ministry is an ongoing memorial to Jesus Christ. Marcus simply illustrates what Jesus can do with sinful men. I often asked if I think Marcus was sane or insane. The question carries with it the most intense emotions. I think people want me to say that Marcus was insane so they can deal more easily with the heinousness and bizarre aspects of his crimes. Some people want to think Marcus was insane, not evil, so his crimes can be explained and accepted. Others simply believe he was evil.

  A number of psychiatrists studied Marcus and found him to be sane. But this doesn't satisfy many questioners. It is nearly impossible to think of the horrible acts he committed and connect that with a sane man. How could anyone do what he did and still be sane? Don't the acts themselves prove his insanity?

  I never considered Marcus insane. The dictionary defines insanity as being of unsound mind and being mentally deranged. Derangement is defined as "being disordered and disarranged." In other words, an insane man is one who is "out of his head" or "not in his right mind," mentally out of order and distressed. This feeling causes him to behave in strange ways that are not appropriate. Once I heard a Christian psychologist describe insanity with this story. "Imagine a man comes into church one Sunday with a bag full of hamburgers he's bought at a fast-food restaurant. As he walks down the aisle, he approaches people with a hamburger in hand and tries to give the food away. He becomes forceful, saying, 'What's the matter? You have to eat! Take it!' The man is concerned about a human need, but has lost his sense of the appropriate. Trying to force people to eat hamburgers during a church service is inappropriate. The man doesn't understand the proper order of things. He is insane."

  The insane man has not lost his ability to speak his language or dress himself or even accomplish some tasks, but his focus has shifted. He is bothered by things most people consider unimportant.

  Once I asked another psychologist to describe sanity. She said the definition differs with the way you view it. Sanity can be viewed in a philosophical way, a clinical way and a legal way.

  The legal definition is the easiest to deal with. Two things define insanity in the courts: first, that a defendant was unable to determine right from wrong at the time of the crime, and second, that the defendant was unable to appreciate the consequences of his actions at the time of the crime.

  Based on this legal definition, Marcus was sane. He demonstrated by his actions that he knew the difference between right and wrong. He showed that he understood the consequences of his actions by hiding his crimes and lying to police officers. He knew his acts would get him into trouble, so he hid what he was doing.

  The clinical definition of insanity is more difficult. It involves the meaning of "mental disorder." Mental disorders have specific criteria for diagnosis. Insanity is not a mental disorder. Mental disorders are more specific—depression, anxiety, psychosis. Insanity is simply too big a word to fit into these kinds of definitions.

  Mental disorders are significant behavioral or psychological syndromes or patterns that occur in an individual and are associated with present distress or disability or with a significantly increased risk of death, pain, disability or a loss of freedom. A person demonstrating deviant behavior doesn't have a mental disorder unless the behavior is a symptom of a dysfunction in the individual. In other words, although Marcus's crimes were horribly deviant, they were not fueled by a mental disorder.

  Marcus did suffer from borderline personality disorder, and many people would classify that as a psychological dysfunction, but it did not reveal itself in his normal behavior. It was something he fought within himself, and only came to the surface when he finally gave in to his evil urges.

  The clearest way to be determined legally insane is to demonstrate a psychosis. People with psychoses are out of touch with reality. They see things that others don't, hear things others don't and sometimes even smell things Others don't. To them, their reality is as real as any object you or I would examine. They have delusions—that is, ideas in their heads that are out of touch with reality, but seem completely real to them. The authorities who examined Marcus concluded that he wasn't suffering from a psychosis.

  Thus, when asked, I usually say I don't believe Marcus Tang was insane. I never saw anything in him to indicate to me that he was off track mentally. As far as I could tell, Marcus was as sane as anyone.

  Over the years in my ministry, I have had to deal with all kinds of people.

  Many of them have had serious problems. Some have acted in bizarre and unusual ways. One person in my office began complimenting me about something, and the very next moment began screaming at me for some slight I supposedly committed. Another person I dealt with was calm and lucid, but suddenly began telling me about hearing voices and of conspiracies in the making. These people were not "in their right minds."

  On the other hand, I have sat with people who were so emotionally distraught they could not make any decision without asking for my opinion, advice, or preferably my decision on how they should decide. I have been there when people experienced the death of a loved one, when they suffered disappointments and losses and when they were told of their own coming death. I have seen people in nearly every emotional circumstance imaginable. None of these people would be classified as insane. All of them had profound problems that were not easily addressed, much less solved. Yet none of them was as composed emotionally and mentally as Marcus was with me. He came across as normal.

  Once, while we were studying the book of Hebrews, I made the point that sin will destroy you, and that there is a deceitfulness to sin.

  Marcus's comments, I think, demonstrate his sanity. He said, "I can relate to that. When I was committing my crimes, I felt that as long as I could hide them away so no one could see what I'd done, I wouldn't have to deal with my crimes or think about them. 1 could go about acting like a normal person, and feel like a normal person."

  Isn't that like all of us? As long as we can hide our bruises with long sleeves, no one has to know about the beatings. If no one can see the needle marks, no one will know about our drug habit. When no one sees the tears, no one will know of our heartache or our problem. We can go to church, go to the store, go to work and interact with other people as if nothing had ever happened. If we never talk about the sexual abuse at home, our children can act like normal children at school. As long as we cover up our crimes, we can pretend they never happened. That's what Marcus did.

  The psychologist I referred to earlier told me an interesting anecdote about the sanity question. She said, "In a class in graduate school, one of my professors gave us a test profile and some background of an anonymous person and asked us to determine if this person was sane, that is, able to tell right from wrong and able to appreciate the consequences of his actions. It was an interesting exercise, and we all agreed that the person probably was sane. Then she gave us the punch line—the test profile was of Marcus Tang."

  There you have it. The authorities concluded that Marcus Tang was sane.

  But this conclusion brings with it cause for concern. The ramifications trouble us. If Marcus could do what he did and still be sane, what about the rest of us? Are we all capable of such heinous crimes ourselves? Could we do what Marcus did? I think the answer is yes.

  Marcus was a sinner. His life proves there is no limit to our capacity to sin or be cruel to other people. We are all candidates for murder and mayhem. It doesn't take crazy people to do such things.

  What it does take is a total disregard for other people I think it is faith in God that makes us care about othe
rs. When God is ignored, and we live our lives as if He doesn't exist, there is a profound effect on our actions and psyche. This is not to say that all atheists become murderers, but it is to say that not believing in God allows us to justify the most evil treatment of other people. Marcus's faith in God changed his perception of people.

  This all suggests something frightening—that any of us could become monsters. I believe any of us are capable of everything Marcus did, if we leave God out of our lives. Marcus's life declares the message that believing in God is a necessity.

  Dr. Ang Yong Chin, psychologist, asked about Marcus’s sincerity of his faith. And I usually hear this from Christians. They ask if Marcus was truly sincere in his desire for baptism and in his Christian life. My answer is always the same: Yes, I am convinced he was sincere.

  This question bothers me. Why question the sincerity of another person's faith? Baptism represents a change in lifestyle. A person is expected to change after being baptized. When people don't change, we begin to wonder. Why were they baptized? Did they did not really comprehend what was involved?

  I can understand those kinds of questions.

  But Marcus's circumstance was different. The people asking me didn't know about his post-baptismal life. They were basing their question on what he did before he was baptized, not after. That bothers me.

  Marcus was judged not by his faith, but by his crimes. The questioner always seemed to hope I'd answer: "No, he wasn't sincere." The questioner seemed to be looking for a way to reject Marcus as a brother in Christ instead of seeing him as a sinner who has come to God. The subtext of such questions was simple. They didn't want to think of Marcus as a brother. Such ungraciousness is contrary to the Christian spirit.

  Was Marcus saved? Were his sins taken away? Was he a Christian believer? Did he repent of his sins? Or was the blood of Christ shed on the cross somehow too weak, too thin, and too anemic to cover his sins? Did Marcus mean it when he said, "I'm so sorry for what I've done. Cod help me, I'll never do that again"?

  Why was it inconceivable that Marcus Tang could come to faith?

  I became convinced of Marcus's sincerity by one happening. On a certain visit we came to the end of our study time together. The prison guard had given us the signal, but right then, before I stood to leave, Marcus bared his soul.

  "I feel very, very bad about the crimes I've committed. In fact, I think I should have been put to death by the state for what I did."

  "I agree with you," I said. "You should have been put to death by the state for the crimes you committed."

  He replied, "If that is true, am I sinning against God by continuing to live each day? Why can’t they put me to death tomorrow but still need to wait for 1 more year before I am executed?"

  "You sure picked a time to bring this up," I answered. "We can't go into all this now, but I can see where you are going." I asked him to read the first half of Romans 13 (13:1-7) before my next visit. "That passage relates to your question," I said.

  "I will. Take care—I'll see you next time," he said as I left.

  On the drive home all this ran through my mind. Marcus was thinking of suicide. Would he take matters into his own hands and kill himself? Did he feel so bad about himself that he no longer wanted to live?

  The subject of suicide goes deep into my soul. Once in my life I contemplated suicide. I was fired from my position of many years as minister of a church in Jurong after I breached the code of conduct. That year, I hosted an annual Men’s Poker Smoker. It’s an outreach event planned by men in the church. Each one, including the pastor, brings a six-pack of beer, some cigars, and 200 poker chips to the event. It went overboard and soon, we were drunk and were complained by a church goer’s wife for leading this husband astray. He came home drunk and got into an altercation with his wife and the wife blamed me the next day after. The area was relatively remote, and the church was unable to find a replacement. When I couldn't find another position in another church, we reached a compromise. I would continue as minister for another eight months, after which time we would part company.

  As a minister and a preacher, I was a failure. Every time I went to church and faced my congregation, that message came through. Some of the church followers demanded my resignation because the lesbian pastoral staff threatened to take legal action against me and the Singapore government. My self-confidence and self-esteem eroded. I began to believe the church's opinion of me. Had I wasted my life as a minister? The ministry was the only thing I knew; it was the basis of my identity.

  I began to lose interest in my work, and my conviction grew that my life had no meaning. I wanted to escape, but there was no place to run. Increasingly, the only option that had any appeal was death. I wanted to escape this human experience. Even facing an angry God was preferable to this.

  Finally, it was Susan, my wife, who brought me out of my despair. I mentioned to her once, "I think things would be better if I were dead." She shrugged off my words and said, "Don't be silly." She responded the same way the second time I brought it up and the third time, too. After the fourth or fifth time, she stopped and looked at me long and hard.

  "You really mean this, don't you?" she asked. I nodded my head and said nothing. I was driving the car at the time. She began to weep hysterically. She was inconsolable. Her reaction took me by surprise; I didn't expect her to cry.

  "How could you think such a thing?" she said between gasps. "What will happen to us?"

  "What do you mean?" I responded.

  "If you are gone, where will we live? Who will take care of us? What are we supposed to do without you?" she cried.

  In my deep depression, I hadn't even considered the effect my suicide would have on Susan, my son, my daughter, much less my parents, my siblings and others who mattered to me. I hadn't even thought about that. I was so consumed with my feelings that I hadn't thought about anyone else. I was not in my right mind. I was not insane, but I was not rational either.

  "You're so right. I'm so sorry. I'll stop this," I told her and dried her tears.

  Susan had delivered me.

  At my next meeting with Marcus, I began with his question, "Am I sinning against God by continuing to live?"

  I told him, "Romans 13 does say God has placed a sword in the hand of the governing authority. That's why I agreed with you last week when you said you thought the state should have put you to death."

  "Yes," he replied. "But has the state failed its duty by not putting me to death earlier? "

  "I can't answer that question. I can say that God has put a sword in the state's hand, and the state has that right from God. This state has apparently chosen to lay down its sword and take up a rod instead.

  "What is our responsibility to the state?" I asked him.

  "Well, Scripture says the Christian must submit to the governing authority," Marcus replied.

  "Right. We aren't to judge the state for what the state has decided to do, but submit to the state. By continuing to live, you are submitting to the state."

  "I see," he said, thinking about what I had said.

  "What that means is that you must try to be the best prisoner you can be. You must not disobey the rules, nor subvert the system. You accept your position as a prisoner of the state for life, and serve God as best as you can for as long as God allows you to live." "Okay," was all he said.

  But I wasn't finished with him yet. "When you ask, 'Am I sinning by continuing to live?' are you implying that you are thinking of suicide?" I pressed. "Yes, I admit I've thought of suicide."

  "Well, I'm going to make a confession to you. I have thought of it, too," I told him. "There was a time in my life when I couldn't bear the thought of living any longer. I wanted to die."

  "Me too. But when I thought I should take my life, I just couldn't do it," he confessed.

  I confessed my experience as well. "When I came to myself, I realized I hadn't been thinking right. I had no concern for others, for my wife or my children. All I thought abo
ut was myself. Suicide is a selfish thing."

  Marcus listened intently to what I said. "My main concern is that I do the right thing," he replied.

  After that, how could I question Marcus's sincerity? Marcus wanted to please God. I le knew he had done terrible things, and he needed me to tell him that his life mattered regardless. I could relate to how he felt. I understood his heart.

  After this discussion, I begin to revisit what had brought me to the point of suicide. I was able to reframe what had happened to me as God's workings in my life. What had happened prepared me to help Marcus.

  I had already studied the religious issues that perplexed Marcus, and I had resolved them in my mind. I had faced suicide, and I could help Marcus think differently about that, too. God had prepared me to minister to his needs. God, in His Providence, shaped and molded me to meet the needs of a young man He knew was going to be in trouble. He brought me to against my will. I would have never left that church on my own, and I left there with bitterness in my heart and anger toward God. Realizing all this helped me put my bitterness away. I no longer blamed God for what had happened to me. I finally forgave those who hurt me years ago. They were doing God's work without realizing it. They were part of God's Providence.

  Chaplain Lui called me shortly after Marcus's memorial service to arrange a time to interview me. He had written an article about Marcus's baptism for a Christian magazine, and now wanted to write another about my friendship with Marcus. Rob has felt close to the story since he was the one who called me originally about baptizing Marcus. We set up December 26,2014, the day after Christmas, for the interview.

  Rob began, "Like I've told you, I had a hard time at first telling the story of Marcus's conversion and writing the article I wrote for Wineskins. I've had a hard time moving from calling him Tang to calling him Marcus. In Singapore, it was Tang, Tang, Tang—that's what we all called him. But as I began to think of him in terms of your studies with him and his conversion, I began to work on calling him Marcus. It didn't seem right to call someone that you're trying to teach 'Tang.' But I noticed that you call him Marcus, and I'm interested in that. Was that a request of his? Why did you call him that?"

  "It came naturally from knowing him," I said. "He wasn't just Tang to me. Calling a person by his last name is alienating and distancing. It reminds me of being in physical education class in high school where I was only known as Eng. It's a good way to distance yourself from another person to avoid getting to know them."

  "Each week, Marcus and I sat down across from each other at a table. We would shake hands. I would show him my Bible. He could read right out of my Bible, and I could read out of his," I explained. "I could point out different things from our different translations. We were able to connect person-to-person."

  "He became a real person to me. In one way, I was blessed, as I had a certain ignorance of all the gory details of his crimes, so I didn't have that to inhibit me. Later, at the insistence of Susan, I did read various books about Marcus's crimes. I was deeply shaken by the details. But that did not alter the connection I had made with him as a person. Me became a real person to me, so I referred to him the same way I would anyone I knew personally."

  Since that interview, I've contemplated Rob's point, and I find myself more firmly established in my position. I challenge others who refer to Marcus by his last name. Usually, those who write me begin by proclaiming their Christian faith and praising me for my role in Marcus's story, and then they ask me about Marcus—using only his last name. I respond by asking, "If he is a brother in Christ, why not speak of him with the same familiarity we use for others?"

  The greatest thing I learned from Marcus is that he was a person with needs, just like the rest of us. He was just as disturbed about his crimes as everyone else. He had fears and concerns and dreams and hopes as we all do. He was a person, not a monster. He needed God, and when he found God, his life was enriched and blessed.

  I am a better man for knowing him. I didn't see this at first. After Marcus was murdered, and television and radio reporters interviewed me, they often asked, "How has this experience changed your life?"

  My answer was that it hadn't changed my life. I was still too close to the experience. I needed time to reflect on the changes in me because Marcus was interposed into my life. Now that more than ten years have passed, I can look back and see the effects more clearly.

  The way I value human life has changed. A quotation of Marcus's from his Dateline NBC interview often comes to mind. How did he feel while committing his crimes? "I felt that I didn't have to be accountable to anyone," he said "Since man came from slime, I was accountable to no one."

  His words have a certain logic. If human beings are nothing more than refined slime or complicated amoeba, then killing other creatures, especially those less complicated or clever than you, is justifiable. But once you accept the reality that humans are specially created in the image of God, the value of human life changes. Once Marcus embraced his faith in God, his view of humanity changed. He began to value human life and recognized his responsibility to protect, not destroy it.

  As I think my way through Marcus's changing value system, I find that I too have devalued human life. I have never killed another human being, but I have certainly thought badly of others. Knowing Marcus has taught me to listen to Jesus' teaching in the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus speaks out against murder, but focuses more on our anger toward others. God values people. So should we.

  I've also learned that great harm comes when we disconnect from other people. In his early life, Marcus disconnected from his fellow human beings. When we choose to depersonalize someone—whether Marcus, by using his last name or making him the object of jokes, or someone else—we are starting down the road of disconnecting.

  It seems a strange thing to say, but I think I've seen viciousness and cold-bloodedness from those who talk about Marcus that rivals the viciousness of his crimes. I've heard of Christian people saying, "If Tang goes to heaven, I don't want to go there." How foolish. Our God is a forgiving God—that's His business. Are human beings worthy of Christ's death? No, but he died for us anyway.

  Because of Marcus, I value church life more deeply. The church has always been a basic element in my experience, but I've seen the other side of the tracks through Marcus. With no foundation of faith, how can families cope with the great difficulties of life? I believe profound things happen to children when they see adult role models expressing faith in God. Marcus's father had faith in God, but when problems arose at home, Mark quit taking Marcus and abandoned the church. I have often wondered if someone or something could've helped Marcus—if his father had taken him to church. The value of church life has become more precious to me.

  The emotional distance between father and son in this tragedy is profound. My heart goes out to Mark in his efforts to reach out to his sons after years of emotional distance. It is easy, when there are serious problems between husband and wife—as was the case with Marcus's parents—to shut off the children as well. In marital wars, children are usually the greatest casualties.

  Marcus and I talked a lot about his parents. He loved them both. He grieved over their wars. After being divorced for many years, their relationship was as bitter and harsh as the day they parted. Most of the prayers we prayed were on his parents' behalf. Whether his family's turmoil gave birth to his crimes is unknowable. But it is significant to me that Marcus's first murder took place the summer he was abandoned by both mother and father.

  Marcus fostered in me greater compassion and understanding for those imprisoned. I now work with prisoners in several prisons. Some of them openly confess that they are guilty and deserve what they are getting. Because of Marcus, I can look into their souls and see real people.

  Several years ago, I was working at my Christian camp, with a group of 13- to 15-year-olds. At that time, Court TV was producing a documentary on Marcus and insisted on interviewing me at the camp. Bringing in a television camer
a crew introduced Marcus's story to our campers, who were generally unaware of my involvement with him. After the interview ended and the camera crew left, we talked with these young teens about the forgiveness of sins.

  A few days later, I had to call a boy—a wrongdoer on a downhill path— to my office. He was caught for throwing rocks at a cat and tried to drown it with a bucket of water. I gave him a punishment that would last until camp was over, but my heart went out to him. I talked to him about the place of God in our lives. When I looked into his eyes, I was thinking of a young Marcus. What if someone had sat and talked with him about God and faith when he was this age? Could it have made a difference in some way?

  All in all, I want the world to know that I called him Marcus. He was my friend and my brother in faith. I look forward to seeing him in heaven, for his sins are washed away. God snatched him from the fires of hell. Jesus came and died and rose again for him. Marcus's story is a powerful one of a transformed life, but it is more than that. It shows how far God can reach to save a soul. It shows what God may do in the life of a person like me to prepare him for God's work. A younger version of me could not have dealt with Marcus Tang. God was working in my life for His purposes. Marcus's story is the story of a God who works in this world.

  In Psalm 8 in the Old Testament, David views the heavens at night, looks at the stars and glories in the majesty of God. He asks, "What is man that you are mindful of him?" We are so insignificant and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Why does God care? Given His greatness, His care is overwhelming. It matters when we fall and when we cry and when we need Him. God loves us all, no matter how badly we have messed up our lives. II God can love Marcus Tang, he can love you and me, too.

  I hope and pray that Marcus Tang's story and my story will be a testament that helps you see the story God is writing for your life. In the end, that is all that matters.