From Bridge to Compass Reflection by Nick Chui
“I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” (1 Cor 3:6)
“Thank you, Mr Chui, the consultations were useful!”
I have been in the business for more than a decade.
The students hope to get a good grade for History so that they can graduate well. I am reasonably confident as their teacher that it can happen. And it does.
I am grateful to the Lord that, at least for the subject I teach, I am a sturdy enough bridge. With my help, the students are often able to get their desired grade to set them on the next stage in post-secondary education.
Nevertheless, the trouble with being a bridge is that your “usefulness” is for a time. You cease to matter once the commuter finishes his journey.
I have come to accept this as part of the experience of an educator.
But I do ask if I can be something more.
Does the impact I make go beyond grades?
I got the answer this year on 30 June 2025.
It was from Brandon, who graduated in 2021. I had taught him History. He was not a Christian but attended Religious Moral Education lessons which I also taught.
He would sit quietly, and in deep thought during those lessons.
His WhatsApp message came as an unexpected delight for me.
“Hello, Mr Chui! Hope you remember me. I’ve been having some questions about Catholicism and would like to explore the faith further. Can we meet?”
I paused, filled with a deep sense of gratitude.
“Yes, I remember you! Let’s meet!”
And we did. And we spoke about his journey towards accepting Christ.
“What was your story, Brandon?”
“I had always wanted to experience what it means to love unconditionally. For a long time, I felt that my non-Christian friends are more sincere. At least they cared for me because of me. My Christian friends are probably caring for me to please God.”
“What was your turning point?” I asked.
“The turning point came when one of them explained to me that good works alone cannot make a Christian righteous; it is by God’s grace that we are justified.” (Eph 2:8–9)
My paradigm shifted. The good deeds I witnessed from my Christian friends were not done to make themselves righteous in God’s eyes, but rather were the result of their faith and regeneration in Jesus Christ. (2 Cor 5:17)
“I began to be intrigued by this Jesus and asked seriously if this story is true,” Brandon continued.
Brandon expressed his desire to explore becoming Catholic. He shared that he felt the fullness of Christianity might be found in Catholicism. I shared that I would be happy to be his guide.
As if the Lord wanted to confirm His initial answer, it happened again the following week.
It was homecoming on 9 July 2025, when Catholic High School was celebrating the 90th anniversary of her founding, with a food and funfair.
I got another cheery greeting from an ex-student.
“Hello, Mr Chui!”
I turned around and saw a face that I had not seen for some time. This time, it was Bo Yu.
I had taught him when he was in Secondary 3. Wasn’t he still in Louisiana?
“Oh Mr Chui, I have graduated and am back because I need to serve National Service. And by the way, I am hoping to become a Christian and am wondering if we could chat about this.”
I listened, in awe and gratitude, as Bo Yu shared his journey of how he came to accept Christ.
“Let’s meet again soon!” I added.
And so, we did. And when we met, we talked—about the nature of truth and love, purpose, relationships, and the person of Jesus Christ.
I was filled with gratitude.
Currently serving his Basic Military Training, Bo Yu shared that with Christ, even basic things fill him with gratitude.
“I am grateful for having healthy legs to feel pain, arms to feel weak.”
Both Bo Yu and Brandon are now attending the Rites of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) at the Church of Saint Vincent de Paul. And I am their RCIA Sponsor.
I am no longer just a bridge, but with God’s grace, also a compass—helping ex-students navigate important decisions in their life.
On Fridays, we try to attend Mass at the Church of Saint Joseph, followed by an hour of Eucharistic adoration and subsequent fellowship with other Catholics.
One of those Fridays, Fr Joe Lopez—chaplain of Catholic High and rector of St Joseph’s Church—was the celebrant at Mass.
After Mass, we went up to him. He was beaming with pride.
I have known Fr Joe since I was an undergraduate, and his example has been a compass for me.
Fr Joe is a missionary who left his native country over 20 years ago to serve in a foreign land, to share the love of Christ with ordinary people like me. Today, I am a Catholic educator who shares my mission to help young men discern their own calling in life.
And with the Lord’s grace, we see the first fruits of the work the Lord has started.
I thank Brandon and Bo Yu for trusting the Lord. May He guide their steps as they seek Him every day.
In closing, I would like to offer this prayer from Saint John Henry Newman, whom Pope Leo XIV declared a Doctor of the Church on 1 November 2025, and co-patron of Catholic Education with Saint Thomas Aquinas.
Saint John Henry Newman wrote profoundly about the purpose of education, especially in his book The Idea of a University. For Newman, the purpose of education is to lead us to the truth of the world, the truth of God, and clarity about one’s mission in life.
I offer this prayer for all Catholic educators, that they may also be both sturdy bridges and sure compasses for those whom they teach.
“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep His commandments.
Therefore, I will trust Him. Whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.”
— Saint John Henry Newman
Photo: Nick Chui
