AS a follow on from my previous column, The Lucky Country, I want to contrast it with one of the greatest things I have come to appreciate about our neighbours in Asia.
Yes the food is great, the public transport is efficient, it is cheap to catch a cab and eat a meal out, but these things, though they have added to my experience, are not what I have come to appreciate most.
When it is time for me to return home next year, I will be doing so with bitter sweetness, for it is the Church in Singapore that I will be leaving behind.
Other than Christmas and Easter as a child, I have never felt so claustrophobic in Church as I have in Singapore.
I mean this in the best possible way, of course, for the pews are always full here.
They have volunteers designated as wardens to help parishioners find their seating as we squeeze six or seven people into a pew that Australians would comfortably sit with just four.
The Church has so many parishioners that there are always people standing at the back – every Sunday of the year.
The choirs are so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes and takes me to Heaven’s gate – in every church I go to.
And it is hard not to believe that it is Jesus in the bread and wine when you see the ten altar servers, the pristine sanctuary, the gold lanterns, the swinging incense, and utter silence during the Liturgy of the Eucharist as the congregation kneels in unison.
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