easter sunday.

Apparently, on Easter Sunday some years ago in my aunt's church in Taipei, I became a Christian. There was no elaborate ceremony involved, no fanfare or holy proclamation; just a small assembly of the congregation gathered around me and the pastor as she held my hands, closed her eyes, and whispered some vows that would forever embed Jesus Christ in my heart and soul.

In all honesty, I bear little recollection of the moment. I only vaguely remember the dim lighting of the room, the tidy, somber attire of the spectators, the fluffy, golden hair of the woman who stood in front of me. A mixture of Chinese and English, a brief smattering of applause, my aunt taking my hand and leading me outside.

In subsequent visits to Taiwan, my aunt never fails to remind me that I am now a Christian. But I don't think I ever felt the piety inside me, the joy and enlightenment that are supposed to come with a newfound religion. Am I still a Christian then?

Apparently, Easter Sunday just passed yesterday. I was unaware of the fact until this morning.