By Joseph Tek Choon Yee
Lessons in Service
Our society was never about titles or applause. It was about servant leadership. We organised recollections and talks, assisted at Mass in Holy Family Kajang, visited orphanages, cooked for charity sales, and carolled during Advent. We even started KAMSIS (hostel) cell groups – half faith, half fellowship, and wholly dependent on potluck suppers.
There was no glamour, just grace. We had no budget, but God provided: through love offerings, or through seniors who “happened” to appear with food just as our funds disappeared. We learnt dependence on divine providence and discovered that joy multiplies when shared.
Every task, setting up chairs, sweeping floors, preparing projectors, became prayer in motion. Those humble acts would one day form the bedrock of my leadership philosophy: show up, serve quietly, stay consistent. In CSS, I learnt the sacred art of presence.
Faith Tested Between Assignments
Of course, not every day was sunshine and songs. Deadlines loomed, coursework and thesis, money ran thin and faith sometimes felt like another subject to study. Some friends stretched their budget with Maggi mee kosong until refill at month end; others wrestled with doubts too deep for discussion.
Yet somehow, God always sent someone – a late-night rosary, a shoulder, a word, a smile. Our prayer circles were unpolished but powerful. No scripted litanies, just honest petitions:
“Lord, help us finish this thesis.”
“Lord, help us trust Your timing.”
“Lord, help us believe again.”
Through those nights I discovered something profoundly Catholic: the Church isn’t a museum of saints but a fellowship of pilgrims walking each other home.
The Road from Bangi to Sabah
After graduation, we went our separate ways, some into careers, some furthered their studies, few into vocations, and later, some into marriages (a few couples began right in CSS!). But the spirit never left us.
When I later joined parish life and the Basic Ecclesial Communities (BEC) in Subang Jaya and then Sandakan, I realised that what we had practised as students was what the Church calls communion. Those experiences became seeds for future service, preparing us to be salt and light in workplaces and parishes.
Small communities gathered for prayer, reflection and shared meals, it was CSS all over again, just with older faces and slower guitars.
At Montfort Youth Training Centre in Sabah, working with boys from difficult backgrounds, I recognised the same spark, the longing to belong, to be loved. And I often thought: If God could find me through a small student group in Bangi, surely He can find them too.
Faith as Compass
Now, after decades in the corporate and plantation world, I see clearly what CSS truly gave me, a compass. It didn’t hand me all the answers, but it taught me where to turn when I lost my way. It didn’t guarantee success, but it shaped how I handled both success and setback.
Most of all, it made faith real, not inherited, not institutional, but personal and purposeful.
Even today, when I pray, I hear the echoes of those campus hymns, off-key but sincere: “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?”
And I smile, because that song, sung decades ago in a squeaky-fanned room 506, became the anthem of my life.
Reflection: Faith Between Lectures and Lifetimes
Faith isn’t mastered in a semester. It’s lived, tested, forgotten, and found again, a circle of grace. For me, the Catholic Students Society was not just a chapter of youth; it was a seed of vocation. Our chaplains were friends, mentors and patient gardeners of our souls.
I learnt that God doesn’t only speak in cathedrals or churches, sometimes He whispers between lectures, through laughter, friendship and the quiet assurance that we are never alone.
Today, even as I enter my sixth decade, the friendships we nurtured in the 1980s remain beautifully alive. Technology has made keeping in touch easier: smartphones, Zoom, WhatsApp, Facebook, yet when we reunite, time melts away. Psychologists call it the social time-capsule effect; I simply call it grace. We speak not as who we’ve become, but as who we once were – unguarded, unpretentious, united.
We may now be scattered across Malaysia and beyond, but every reconnection feels like coming home. Some of our dear friends have gone ahead of us to the Lord, yet their laughter and love still echo in our hearts.
I miss my CSSUKM family deeply and thank God each day for the tapestry of faith He wove through us – one meeting, one song, one prayer at a time.
May we all continue to walk faithfully, even between lectures, guided by the same God who turned a simple student society into a lifelong mission of love.
Dedication
This story is lovingly dedicated to my brothers and sisters in Christ of the CSSUKM, past and present, and to all members of the Campus Ministry Team.
To my companions from the late 1980s: thank you for the laughter, faith and friendship that continue to illuminate my journey. The bonds we forged in those formative years remain a living testimony to God’s enduring love and the power of shared faith.
To those faithfully serving and participating in CSSUKM today: may you keep the flame of Christ’s love burning brightly, inspiring hearts and minds for generations yet to come. May your fellowship remain rooted in prayer, service, and the joy of the Gospel.
And may the Church always sustain, strengthen and fortify the work of campus ministry, recognising it as sacred ground where young hearts encounter Christ, grow in discipleship and discern their call to serve God’s people in the world.
Of course, not every day was sunshine and songs. Deadlines loomed, coursework and thesis, money ran thin and faith sometimes felt like another subject to study. Some friends stretched their budget with Maggi ‘mee kosong’ until refill at month end; others wrestled with doubts too deep for discussion.
