Contributed by Abbey Thangiah • Apr 14, 2026
During my university days, my faith was frequently the target of my seniors’ teasing. They loved putting me in the hot seat, throwing tough, cynical questions my way. By God’s grace, I usually found the wisdom to navigate them.
One memory, however, stands out vividly. I was sitting through yet another interrogation, quietly tolerating the thick smoke of a senior’s cigarette (long before the era of e-cigs and vaping), when he suddenly asked a surprisingly direct question: “I want to be a Christian. What do I have to do?”
Honestly, I was exhausted from constantly having to defend my beliefs. Without overthinking it, I gave him the most blunt, straightforward answer I could muster: “Just pray for forgiveness and ask Him to enter your life lah.”
He looked genuinely taken aback. “Is it that easy? I don’t have to chant something, do something drastic, or burn a sacrifice?”
I simply replied, “No, you don’t have to do anything. He paid the full price on the cross, so you don’t have to worry about earning it.”
That answer completely derailed him. He looked confused, even a little disarmed, before quickly putting his guard back up and changing the subject to interrogate me about something else entirely.
Looking back, I often wonder where I found the courage to speak so plainly in that moment. Ironically, that cynical senior was one of the few people who actually forced me to articulate the Gospel and clarify my own understanding of Scripture. Jesus showed up in the unfamiliar that day—right in the middle of a smoke-filled interrogation.
Years later, that brief exchange still makes me wonder: Jesus provided the simplest, most profound solution, yet we constantly feel like we need to do more. Why?
It perfectly echoes the central question of our recent sermon: When did good news feel too big to receive?. As humans, we are entirely wired for transactions. We assume that a gift this immense must come with a catch, a checklist, or a heavy price tag. We struggle to comprehend a grace that we cannot earn. But the truth of the Gospel is that we don’t have to be the architects of our own salvation; the price has already been paid in full. We are simply invited to step into the reality of His finished work, trusting that our past is forgiven, our present is filled, and our future is held.
The words of the classic Hillsong Worship “Can’t Stop Talking‘ sums this perfectly
“Can’t stop talking ‘bout Everything He’s done It’s the best thing happened Since the world begun It didn’t come cheap But I got it for free It’s the hope of glory Christ in me”















