Every Man is Sick

We sat on stools, gathered round a table. The inside of the house was rather dark. Soil covered the bare cemented floor. At the next table sat a man. Dark complexion, slightly pudgy, with a really loud voice. He was the village chief.

Something he said really struck me. All men are sick, it’s only a matter of when it would manifest itself. That’s a universal truth which none of us can evade from.

This man knew that no one could escape the clutches of death and decay. I knew that death and decay is a consequence of sin. It got me thinking about the universality of sin. It was something that none of us could escape from. And though many may not acknowledge it, it isn’t hard to observe it playing its toll on our lives, as did the village chief, though himself not having yet come to terms with the issue of sin and grace through Jesus Christ.

There is much excitement from novelty. Excitement never sustains. The luster of novelty eventually wears off, and never can withstand the erosive actions of time. Joy is perhaps, most readily found when old truths mature, blossom and ripened with age. It was the rediscovery of old truths which brought much, if not most, joy during this trip.

The desire for blessings and pursuit of self-advancement often blind me from some old truths which fundamentally affects every single life. During this trip, I was yet again reminded about how these truths affect life, whether or not we acknowledge it.

The others were busy setting up the equipment when we arrived at the second village. Prof asked if I wanted to take a walk around the village, and I agreed. We came to meet some of Brother Yao’s relatives, mainly his cousins. They gathered around, having a rather cavalier mood. Some we reminding their children, others were just talking. We took some photos and then moved on.

As we continued with our walk, Brother Yao explained to us that it was their routine to meet up before starting the day’s work. Some in the fields, some tending to their provision shop. Towards the evening, they would again gather in the same place. Smoking, drinking and picking fights. A disoriented pursuit of pleasure and joy.

This phenomena isn’t unique to them. It plagues us even where we are. And it reminds me about the universal nature of sin, of how we decide to rule our own lives and define what pleasure and joy is. A refusal to acknowledge the Creator and live life in the way He meant it to be.

It very much exists in my own life, albeit in very different manifestations. For them, it might be something more immediate. For me, I might delay my gratification a bit longer, in hope that the joy and pleasure felt might be more intense. It’s not because I’m any wiser or more moral, but the chief end of my achievements very much betray whatever morality or altruism that may hang on my lips.

I might stave off alcohol and cigarettes this very present moment, and not pick fights for moral reasons. Giving every bit of my time to useful work, motivated by the prospects of a future pleasurable life. Not much difference from the former, since pleasure is derived from what human hands have created. A self-made man.

Sometimes, Jesus gets reduced another one of those deities who rescues me in my time of need. A solution to my immediate problems. A stepping stone for self-advancement.

Those two events reminded me of who really needs the Gospel. Me. A reminder of why I need the Gospel. To save me from myself. To save me from deriving pleasure in myself. To save me from my pursuit of self-glory. To save me from being god.

Not about blessings, or a better life. But the way to set things in order, for sin has corrupted every part of my being. He showed me how my pursuits were for myself, for my pleasure, for my name, for my glory. He showed me how much I needed Him, to put an end to all these. And he showed me how he done it. The Cross.

The universal problem, sin. The universal solution, Jesus Christ. That’s the old truth that never fails to amaze me and leave me in awe of the One who was, who is, and is to come.

I Don’t Need Jesus for All That!

Life’s tough. It’s not only about books. Requirements to complete. Research to be done. Suitable and willing patients to look for. Appointments to arrange. Reminders to send. Motivating the unmotivated. Setting up teeth. Messing around with gypsum. Waxing up full wax anatomical features. Being polite with the unreasonable. Managing the difficult, including professors. All in a day’s work of a dental student. Seems difficult to manage. Perhaps even impossible without Jesus. Maybe not.

It isn’t just about academics in school. If it were so, life would be a lot easier, since I never had much to struggle with academics for the past 12 years of formal education. If it were only academics, studying would suffice. It’s a whole new ball game now. The equation isn’t as simple as before. One plus one would not give you two. There’s a whole lot of other dependant variables, some within your control, and most not. I guess that’s the reality of life in the real world, when you’re finally out of school.

The usual advice given would be ‘You’ll need Jesus to help you out here. Without Christ, you simply can’t get by’. Well, perhaps the goody two shoed Christian in me would have to agree with those statements. But when I look at life, I can’t agree with it. Not that I don’t trust those people, they are, perhaps, the most sincere and genuine people I’ve ever met and have come to trust. But the pagans do get through school fine too. They seem to be able to manage without God, and oftentimes, even better than some of us Christians. Perhaps, the truth is, I don’t really need Jesus for all that.

Good grades. Healing. Job promotion. Restored relationships. Newfound wealth. Miraculous provision. We often hear testimonies about such things, and how, perhaps, if we have a lack in those areas, we probably need to come to Jesus. But do we really need to go to Jesus for these things? Or, did He really come to us to work out those things?

Try telling someone he needs Jesus for those things. Try telling someone from my class he needs Jesus for those things. Most are just average people who do not have much difficulties in life. Grades certainly have never been an issue for them. Try telling them that they need Jesus for those things and that without Jesus, they can’t make it in their lives. Truth is, they don’t need Jesus for those things, and neither do I.

What I’ve come to realise is that I need Jesus because of my sin, my wilful rebellion against God. And while school may be tough, I have to remind myself that I don’t need God just to fix my problems in school. Rather, I need Christ’s mercy to remind me that the dread of work is a result of sin, that perhaps I’m not enjoying my work as I have been created to do because of sin. And though I am still a young healthy lad who probably isn’t suffering from any major debilitating disease now, I don’t need God just to fix some disease that may plague me in my old age. Rather, I need more of His mercy and grace to remind me that death and decay are all just but ramifications of sin. Faced with tensions in relationships, I don’t need God just to fix the other party. Rather, I need Him to remind me how conflicts arise because we have decided to put ourselves as king over our lives, independent of God, which also is, sin.

Yes, God can and will heal, comfort, restore and provide, but those acts aren’t the basis and aim of the Gospel. They happen only to point us to what is to come, the restoration of all things under and in Jesus Christ. They point us to what ought to be and will be in a world without sin, the world that is to be realised in Jesus Christ. Jesus didn’t come for all these reasons. The Gospel isn’t about these things. Jesus came to be a ransom for our sins. The Gospel is about God’s plan to restore all things in Jesus Christ.

I guess you can never come to Jesus Christ if you came to Him for the reasons He didn’t come for. When we come to Him only in troubled times, we probably haven’t really realised what sin is. We probably don’t really know why we need Jesus. We probably think that sin really isn’t an issue. We probably think that we don’t need Jesus for that at all.

Seriously, I don’t need God for all those reasons. I only need Jesus because I am a sinner.

Sin-The Only Important Experience

The experiences in life often determine our responses. It is these experiences that shape us, and sometimes, keep us going. Some of us are constantly engaged in a certain activity because we crave the experience that is gained out of it. Yet at times, we avoid a certain task or responsibility simply due to an unpleasant experience.

It is the same with faith. I remembered the countless times I was once engaged in discussions about how to stir the youths up to greater faith (this was with people who had Pentecostal inclinations). What was brought up every session was ‘They’ve got to experience God for themselves.’ There is certain truth to this statement, though I would disagree with how many would define experience and place a great emphasis on that particular kind of experience. Fundamentalists, on the other hand, would shun experience altogether and stress on the sole need of cognitively understanding doctrines. There is a temptation to seek an equilibrium between both ends, but will that be enough to sustain us in our walk with Jesus Christ?

The most fundamental experience of any Christian experience would be grace. Yet there are varied ways by which we perceive how this grace affects us. Some define grace in terms of how God would help us through a struggle. For younger kids, they see it in terms of how they managed to score an A in their tests. Perhaps for those, who like me have sold four years of our lives to the unthinkable horrors of dental school, see grace in terms of how God helps us to achieve the seemingly unachievable. And if you were struggling hard to gain that increment or promotion, grace to you would be how you finally got that letter from your boss. Or if you were serving in church, God’s grace would help you achieve much success in ministry, perhaps having run that Christmas musical so perfectly or having numbers rise exponentially. And if you were battling with terminal cancer, grace to you would be how God would heal you. These manifestations of grace are not wrong in themselves, God does indeed provide, strengthen and heal. But when grace is defined solely as such, then grace would not be able to sustain our faith, not because grace is not sufficient, but because of our weak-willed self.

What we need to fall back on is a more theologically robust experience of grace. We need to go beyond just collecting little trinkets of grace along the journey to daily rediscovering what grace has achieved for us. The only experience that can truly sustain us in the long haul is sin. I am not suggesting that in order to be an effective Christian, we have to actively be engaged in sin. Far from that. The Apostle Paul explains it best in his rhetoric, ‘What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means! How can we who died to sin still live in it?’ (Rom 6:1-2). Rather, it is a daily awareness of our sinful estate that reminds us of the great grace we have received from God in Jesus Christ. We can only be led to the Cross of grace when we are aware of our depravity, a realisation of how helpless we are about our woeful state.

Sure the Christian life is filled with many other experiences, but unless we have experienced our own sinfulness, there is no way by which we can daily cling on to Jesus Christ. The experiences we are prone to seek are the seemingly tangible signs and wonders. People have told me how God spoke to them about a certain issue. Some have insisted about the reality of God because of a vision they had during a particular service. And very often, many claim to have experienced God during that powerful time of worship during service. Yet time and time again, I see how these experiences have failed to sustain their walk with God.

Yet so often, contemporary Christianity focus on what the Gospel has to offer in terms of tangible things. People speak of ‘creating an experience’. An evangelistic rally is not complete without a few occurrences of deliverance and healing. But is that what the Gospel really is about? Did Christ really come just to perform all that?

I do not deny that God can heal, physically provide and emotionally comfort, but if those experiences become the very basis of our faith, then I think we have got it all wrong. It is important that we remember the reason for which Christ came for. Christ came as the solution for our sin. Christ came to remove the curse of sin and to restore us back in communion with the living God. And if Christ came for our sins, then it also follows that the only means by which we come to Him is when we realise our woeful states. It is only when we are reminded about the helpless state we are in and what He has done that we can fully celebrate the deep grace we have received from God.

What we have to remember is that the physical struggles we face in our daily lives with health, the emotional torments of pain and hurt, the burdensome toil of work are all just the resulting ripples of sin. It would follow well that if Christ came to restore, He would also heal and physically provide our daily sustenance. But we must remember first and foremost that Christ came to deal with sin, and not the symptomatic relief of sin’s effects. If we were to experience those experiences, we have to see it as a foretaste of what is to come, not to be distracted by them thinking that it is that which defines the Christian experience, but that there will come a day when a complete restoration and redemption will be achieved in Jesus Christ.

God’s grace is not about helping us achieve something, but it is about what Jesus has achieved on the Cross. We would never be satisfied or content if we were to view grace as something that helps us with our next task. When we have finally reached base camp, we rush to scale the peak. The previous experience of what we claimed to be God’s grace does not seem to be enough for us as our hearts lusts for yet another achievement or emotional exhilaration. The only way we can find rest and sustenance, is to rekindle what grace truly is, to be daily reminded of our wretched state and the incredible richness of His grace found in Jesus Christ.

This was a lesson I have come to learn over the past couple of months. Though I may cognitively understand what grace was, yet I was blinded from the reality of my sinful state. My mind knew what grace was, yet my heart did not feel it. I felt pretty lost after moving on to a new church. Life felt pretty plain and joyless. When I thought about what was going on, I felt bored because I was no longer doing anything. I no longer had those experiences I used to when I was serving in ministry, and there was nothing left for me to achieve. And I started to question what I really believed in. It seemed to me that my so-called Christian life was defined by my works, and deep down, I could not comprehend what grace was. Cognitively I could understand what grace was, but experientially, I did not seem to need that grace.

It was only a couple of weeks ago that I came to see my need for grace. It happened when I was treating some patients in school. I had a patient who had to leave early one day. He did not tell me beforehand, so it meant that I was not able to complete what I had to do for him. It meant that I had to fork out an extra session, from my already limited schedule, to complete my treatment. I kept thinking about what I had to do and as a result, released him late.

I have some difficult patients. I really do not enjoy treating them as they are very demanding and unappreciative. They demand things that are not feasible. They know that I am undergoing training and would be slow in my delivery of treatment. And they keep complaining about the speed every session, yet refusing to visit a regular dentist because of cost. I have my ways of dealing with such patients. And at the end of each session, I pride myself in overcoming them.

But when I reflect upon my behaviour and attitude in the clinics, I start to see how selfish I was. I cared more about my own schedule and requirements rather than my patient. I have insidiously prided myself in being more difficult to my patients than they were to me. It was when I saw my selfish nature that I realised my need for God. I saw that I wanted to be king in my own world and have others be subject to me. All things had to be suited to my liking rather than me serving them. It was then that I realised how sinful I truly am. It was then that I realised what grace is and how we all need Christ to be King and Lord over all.

And this is what sustains me. It is not about the past experiences I have, for I am prone to forget what they were, and many of them seem insignificant to me when I’ve scaled the heights and have experienced what I perceive to be of more importance. My heart is forever restless and would never be stilled by a fleeting moment of ecstasy. What sustains me is not about how God may or may not help me with accomplishing my requirements in school, the future lifestyle I could afford, or a pain-free life, for such things are fleeting and momentary.

We tend to chase many different kinds of experiences. Some of us desire that emotional exhilaration during the worship service. Some desire the experience of signs and wonder. But there is only one truly important experience in the Christian life. What sustains me and keeps me close to Him is the experience of sin. For it is only when the Holy Spirit convicts me of sin, that I can truly experience what grace is, and forever live a life in gratitude to the One who hung on the Cross. It is a conscious awareness and experience of sin that truly keeps me to the Cross of Jesus and my desperate need for Him.

Making Sense of the Atrocity of Such an Insanity

‘The third stage of syphilis includes the most serious of all complications. The vascular system can be affected significantly through the effects of the earlier arteritis. Aneurysm of the ascending aorta, left ventricular hypertrophy, and congestive heart failure may occur. Involvement of the central nervous system may result in tabes dorsalis, psychosis, dementia, paresis, and death… granulomatous inflammation, known as a gumma, appears as an indurated, nodular, or ulcerated lesion that may produce extensive tissue destruction… When the palate is involved, the ulceration frequently perforates through to the nasal cavity… antibiotic therapy may not always result in a total cure… but may arrest only the clinical presentations of the infections.’ [Neville B.W, Damm D.D, Allen C.M & Bouquot J.E, Oral & Maxillofacial Pathology, Philadelphia, PN: Saunders, 2002, 169, 172]

That was what I read while studying oral pathology on Sunday. Sounds bad? I read this only five minutes later…

‘The Guatemala syphilis research involved 696 subjects who came from the Guatemala National Penitentiary, army barracks and the National Mental Health Hospital, according to Reverby’s research. These subjects did not give direct permission to participate. Instead, the authorities signed them up… “The doctors used prostitutes with the disease to pass it to the prisoners (sexual visits were allowed by law in Guatemalan prisons) and then did direct inoculations made from syphilis bacteria poured onto the men’s penises or on forearms and faces that were slightly abraded when the ‘normal exposure’ produced little disease, or in a few cases through spinal punctures,” Reverby wrote’ [Lauden, E., Studies show ‘dark chapter’ of medical research. CNN 2010, October 1, Retrieved from http://edition.cnn.com/2010/HEALTH/10/01/guatemala.syphilis.tuskegee/?hpt=Mid on 2010, October 3]

I’m not sure what’s more terrifying, Treponemal pallidum or Homo sapiens?

As bystanders, we baulk at such an atrocity. It seems almost insane that one would even think of committing such a crime. We thought that such things only happened in Nuremberg, and only the Nazis would be inhumane enough to think of such an ‘experiment’. Afterall, we weren’t involved in it.

The people did not volunteer to be inoculated, rather they were chosen from those among the Guatemala National Penitentiary, army barracks and the National Mental Health Hospital. The people assumed they were being cared for, yet their trust was very much betrayed by those who promised to keep them safe. At Tuskegee, African Americans assumed they were being cared for ‘bad blood’ by the Public Health Services, yet the standard treatment for Syphilis was intentionally held back from them.

How do we make sense of the atrocity of such an insanity? How can those who have been exploited and abused find any reason to trust or have hope in anyone?

It seems that human nature is on a downward spiral. As we continue to look at the world around us, there are lesser reasons for us to have any faith in any human being at all. We could turn a blind eye to it and get on with life. But would it come a day when we are so numbed to such atrocities that we become perpetrators of such atrocities ourselves?

Such atrocities occur when we set ourselves up on the throne our life. We value our judgments and needs more than others. Others become dispensable, but not our ambitions. Others are deemed lesser beings who can be sacrificed, but certainly not our own, our kind or what we belief in. Those people and things cannot be sacrificed, yet. We are the center of the world we live in.

Perhaps we cannot make much out of such atrocities. We could perhaps only raise our white flags, surrender and say ‘This is life’. Perhaps we should all submit our lives to its insanities, acknowledging that it is part of life to be betrayed by those whom you trust, those whom were supposed to protect you. For even spiritual leaders have betrayed the trust of their parishioners by feeding their perverse lust at the expense of young boys.

Yet all these does make sense, when I look at the Gospel. When I look at the Gospel, I see the dire need of humanity. I see the dethronement of God, and the enthronement of self. I see the grave depravity of mankind and how we are culpable of such atrocities. What I see in life and world are only theaters of the usurpation of God’s throne. Life, with all its atrocities only make sense when I look at it through the Gospel.
It does make sense as it shows us that things I see today is not as how it should be. It shows the broken reality which I live in. It shows me how things are not in order.

It is this Gospel that also gives me hope. It gives me hope because I know that things will not continue to be the way it is. It gives me home because I know that God Himself will put all things in order, the way He intended it to be, by uniting all things in Christ. It gives me hope because I know that my fate, or the fate of the world, lies not in the hands of another human being in authority, who will like all others, betray me one day. It gives me hope because it is God Himself who will rescue. God himself will put all things in order. God Himself will take His rightful place on the throne.

It gives me hope not in the sense that all things would be made well according to my desires the next day, months or even years to come. For how can I trust even in my own desires, and to do so would be to usurp the throne on which God rightfully has the place. To do so would be nothing short of having God only to serve my needs, having Him as a periphery to my world and universe, of which I am the center of.

Rather, my hope rests firm on Jesus Christ. My hope rests firm in the knowledge that He is working and redeeming the world this present moment by the work of His Spirit. My hope rests firm that the Day will come when He will come again, reigning in power, might and glory. My hope rests firm that on that day, no one else will be sitting on that throne, but only my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

My hope rests firm on Jesus Christ,
He is my only plea.
Though all the world should point and scorn,
His ransom leaves me free;
His ransom leaves me free.

My hope sustains me as I strive
And strain towards the goal;
Though still I stumble into sin,
His death paid for it all;
His death paid for it all.

My hope provides me with a spur
To help me run this race:
I know my tears will turn to joy
The day I see his face;
The day I see his face.

My hope is to be with my Lord,
To know as I am known;
To serve Him gladly all my days
In praise before His throne;
In praise before His throne.

Words and Music by Keith Getty and Richard Creighton

My Every Right to Give up on Christ

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.” Jn 6:68-69

I was talking to my friend on a trip back from school a couple of weeks ago. He said that there was a thing about some Christians which got on his nerves. Ben was rather put off by how some of his Christian friends would try to evangelise to him saying that they have considered all other religions and found Christianity to be the most supreme and right religion. Ben said that it was not possible for someone to consider all religions and come to a conclusion as to which was the most right.

Much as I do credit Ben’s friends for their eagerness to share the Gospel with him, I do have to agree with his observation and conclusion. It truly is not possible for anyone of us to thoroughly consider any other religion, and finally come to the conclusion that Christianity is the best. For to thoroughly consider any religion at all, we must have come to believe that there is a possibility that it true, we must be able to have practised it and fully immerse ourselves in those teachings, and it must become part of our lives.

Though there are indeed some of us who have come that way, and have since come to faith in the living Christ, yet we cannot claim to have thoroughly contemplated all religions before arriving to where we are now. The most we could say is that we have examined some of the claims of other religions, and at the end rest secure only in Christ Jesus alone.

What is more subtle, yet of grave implication, in the claim that we have considered all other faiths and chosen only Christ in the end, is that our relationship with Jesus is just another choice we made, rather than having its foundation being built on the grace of God resulting in a life in Jesus Christ. When the Gospel is preached merely as a choice, or when the faith is being presented as a reductionist list of choices we have got to make, somewhere down the line, we might eventually choose not to follow Jesus anymore. The Gospel, as represented in the Scripture, is not about a choice we made, but about the grace of God resulting in a life hidden in Jesus, and His life found in ours.

Simon Peter’s declaration was a response to Jesus’ question. A question that He asked the twelve when ‘many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him’ (v 66). Those who had left Jesus were not just ordinary people who decided to follow Him.

They belonged to the crowd that ‘was following him, because they saw the signs that he was doing on the sick.’ (v 2) They were the crowd of five thousand who were fed by Jesus, when the only available food was from a boy who brought five loaves and two fishes. They were the crowd that did not have enough of Jesus, that when they saw their idol no longer at the place where they last saw Him, ‘they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum, seeking Jesus.’ (v 24) They were the crowd that were interested to know when He arrived at that place (v 25). They were the crowd that asked Him how might they ‘be doing the works of God.’ (v28) They were the crowd that desired the true bread of heaven, the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world, the very ones who said ‘Sir, give us this bread always.’ (vv 32-34)

These people saw what He did, they experienced His provision, and having seen and experienced it, they made a choice to follow where He went. Perhaps they were amazed at the signs He performed. Perhaps they wanted for His provision. Perhaps they desired for Him to teach them a way or method to attain spirituality. And so they made a choice that it would be best for them to follow where He went, after all, it was for their benefit that they did so.

But the very ones who seen what He has done, who tasted His provision and who heard His teachings, decided and chose for themselves that His sayings were to hard and said, ‘This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?’ (v 60) And they soon made a choice, ‘turned back and no longer walked with him.’ (v 66)

It was at this point, that He turned away from those who thought they have made a choice to follow Him, to those whom He had chosen, the twelve. He asked if they would want to go away as well. And it was at this point of time that Simon Peter made a declaration that there is no one else for Him to go to, for Jesus alone has the words of eternal life, and is the Holy One of God.

Peter realised that it was not a matter of choice. He realised that following Jesus is not a matter of choice. And when he came face to face with the God who graciously revealed Himself to sinful man (cf. Lk 5:8), Peter realised that there was not any other place or person whom he could turn to. And that is how the Gospel comes to us.

We tend to forget that our knowing of the Gospel as truth comes to us not by an actualisation of our wills but sole and entirely by the grace of God. It comes not to us by having seen, experienced and knowing Christianity’s teaching, then making a choice that Christ is indeed worth following, because it benefits us some way or another. But it comes to us when God graciously reveals to us who He is and the woeful state of our souls, and then we make not a choice, but realise that our life is found solely in Jesus alone, and like Peter, we have no choice, but to follow Him.

It may not seem such a big deal at first instance, whether believing in the Gospel is a choice we make or whether we have no choice in it at all. The determinant of a choice is the benefit which we will reap. Many of times, when the Gospel is presented as a matter of choice and when people believe that they have a made an active choice to follow Jesus, they made the choice believing that there is a benefit in making the choice they did. They made the choice believing that at that time and space, Jesus was the best choice they could make for their lives.

Perhaps there does not seem to be anything wrong with that kind of thinking. But think again. If our life was dependant on the choices we make, and that the choices we make at that point in time and space is determined by what we think benefits us at that point in time and space, then we could say that our life, the way we live and what we do, would very much be dependent on what we perceive to be benefitting us at the point in time and space. And if our lives were dependant on what we perceive to be beneficial to us in that time and space, how certain can we be that Christ will not be a choice that we give up when all things seem unfavourable?

It grieves me when I learn of friends who decide that a certain part of Christianity is not for them, and sometimes all of it. I am not talking about friends like Ben who have never accepted the Gospel, but friends who perceive to know the Gospel and have at a point in time and space perceived to have had made a choice to believe in Jesus. Christianity was just a matter of choice to them. It was presented as a matter of choice to them.

Often times, the Gospel is being presented as a choice for betterment. It provided a hope for us to improve our state of life. And subsequently, when we have decided to make that choice to believe in Jesus, another set of choices is offered to us. That we have got to make the right choices in our Christian walk so as to receive God’s blessings, which will also ensure a better life for us. Hence the driving motive and force behind our choices is for the benefit and preservation of self. The problem with this thought and way of approaching Christ is that when something that seems better and more enticing comes along our way, we then decide that perhaps this Jesus thing is not really the best choice. Or perhaps we pick and choose the manner in which we walk the Christian walk; we decide which is best for us, and which part of it our flesh most desires. In preaching a Gospel that has its basis on human choice, there is no lordship of Jesus, but only that of self.

That was what happened to those who had initially followed after Jesus, but soon gave up when they were unable to accept who He really was. They had, in first instance, come to the decision that choosing Jesus was beneficial to them. They had thought that choosing Jesus would do them good, it would be an avenue for their provision, to witness miracles and advance their spirituality. They had sought Christ Jesus for a better of self, but were not ready to live a life of abandonment to Jesus Christ.

Why is it that once fervent passionate young men and women soon give up the God of their youth? Why is it that they soon pursue something else apart from the God they have chosen? Often, I see many walking in the entrapment and lures of what the world has to offer, what human relationships have to offer. The young man who once served so actively and passionately in church, making sure his presence was to be felt at every event and programme, soon steps into what he deems as the real world, and decides that this Jesus thing is a fiction, and makes an active choice to live a life of hedonism. Still, the once innocent and pure youth leader, whom has a flock under him to tend to, spots another maiden outside the flock, and decides that she is what he wants, and makes a choice to pursue her, instead of a full fledge obedience and allegiance to the Lamb who was slain for him. Jesus was just another one of those choices for them.

And at that point in time and space, Jesus was just time filler, a promise of self betterment. The motivation for their choice was not from a realisation of our depravity and dire need for God, rather it stems from a self belief that Christ is the way for us to elevate ourselves, and perhaps, insidiously so, to exalt ourselves. And so when the time comes when we are offered a better choice, or when we realise we cannot really make a choice to obey Jesus anymore because it is something we cannot accept, and we cannot afford the act of self abasement, we then make a choice to turn back and no longer walk with Him.

When Christianity is reduced to a matter of choosing what is best for me instead of being satisfied solely in the glory and sovereignty of God. We rely on the desires of our flesh and the lures of our eyes, instead of wisdom and guidance from the Holy Spirit. And that is why when a better choice or option comes our way, when it appeals to our flesh, we start to forget about God and compromise on our faith, because the convictions are not present in the first place. It is not about me choosing, but about me delighting in the delights of the Father and finding joy in obedience.

The Gospel is not about choices we make, but is about a God who chose to be gracious towards us. It is a God who chose to reveal Himself to us when we were blind. It is about a God who died for us when we were yet sinners. It is about a God who manifests His glory not in the choices we make, nor about a God who works according to our desires for our benefit, but simply in the grace that He extends to us blind and wretched sinners.

And this was how the reality of Jesus came to Peter. Peter was not one of those who had seen His works and listened to His teachings. Peter was not one of those who sought for signs and wonders. Peter was not one who evaluated and considered the teachings of Jesus before he chose to follow Him. But he was one who, upon looking into the face of Christ, saw the helpless state that he was in (Lk 5:8), and then realised that there was no one else to whom he could go to, but only Christ Jesus alone. It was not a realisation of Peter that he was helpless to achieve anything materially or socially, for we have no need of Jesus to enable us scale the heights of the world, but a realisation of his spiritual bankruptcy that led him to his confession of Christ. Peter did not make a choice to follow Jesus, but Jesus made a choice to call Peter.

It was not Peter’s choice that sustained his faith, but the grace of Jesus that did the work. For in the flesh, Peter was bent against God. Left on his own, Peter was a hindrance to Jesus’ mission just after his confession that Jesus is the Christ (Mt 16:22-23). Left on his own, Peter denied Jesus three times before the rooster crowed. It was the grace of Jesus that restored Peter and commissioned Peter to feed the Lord’s sheep. Left on his own, Peter would have chosen to give up on Jesus. It is only by the grace of God, that Peter lives a life not of choice, but of total abandonment to Jesus.

It is only when we realise this deep grace that He has shown, can we then respond appropriately and realise that the Gospel and our walk with Christ is not a matter of our choices, but it is about a life hidden in Christ, and Jesus’ life hidden in ours. It is this realisation of grace that compels us to follow Him, though our very ambitions are bent against His. It is the realisation of this grace that forces us to drop every notion that our coming to Christ is a matter of choice, but that it is the only way to live. It is the actualisation of grace that enables us to realise that we have no choice in the matter, but to cling on to Christ and Christ alone. It is the actualisation of this grace that enables us to drop all notions of self advancement and exaltation, and thrusts us into a position of life that is found in Jesus Christ. It is this actualisation of grace that enables us not to give up on Christ through all the hurts and pains endured, though we may have every reason to do so have we in our minds that Christ was a choice we made.

There are countless times I wanted to give up on this God. And I believe I have every right to do so, had I been the one who made the active choice of Christ in the first place. I have been hurt most in a place that promises healing for the hurt. I have been alienated most in a community that professes to be the family of God. I have experienced most loneliness among those who claim to have the love of Christ. I have been misled most by those who are supposed to lead me in Christ. I have been betrayed most by those whom I am supposed to place my trust in. I have been starved most by those whom the Lord has charged to feed the sheep of His pen. I have been deceived most by those who have committed to a life of Truth. I have been most troubled by a place that promises rest to the weary. I was most insecure in a place where security in Christ ought to be sought. I have every right to give up on this Christianity thing and the Church, and only so if it indeed was a choice I had first made.

I felt that I had enough of this pain and hurt, and I deserve something better. Why should I even waste my time on this Christian thing? Why should I end up with even more hurt and pain? Why should I even bother about it anymore?

But each time I feel like giving up, there is a greater force within me that convicts me of the truth. The greater force is grace that reveals the truth of my barren nature and utter need of Jesus Christ. Grace that guards my heart, and violently prevents me from making a choice not to have anything to do with Jesus Christ and His Church. Grace that grips me by the neck and throws me into the bosom of Christ. Grace that revealed to me how when I was yet in rebellion against God, it was Him who showed mercy, opening my eyes to the truth that it was His work that reconciled us both, and not an active choice of mine that brought me back to Him. The truth that it is not about a matter of choice, but about a matter of life. The truth that convicts and compels me that I have no other place or person to turn to, but to Jesus Christ alone. The truth that convicts me that my life is not contingent on the choices I make, nor does its basis and identity rests on my achievements and accomplishment or my will, but solely in abandonment to the One who ransomed me, a life that is found in Him and His divine life being realised in mine.

The Gospel life is not about a choice we make to believe in Christ. For when we do make an active choice, we can also soon make one to leave Him. Rather, it is about the grace of the Father, and the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit that convicts us of the truth that we are a people so sick and depraved, that we have no one else to turn to and no life of our own, but only that of and in Jesus Christ alone. It is this grace that sustains us when circumstances force our wills to make a choice to leave Him. It is this grace that ensures that we would not turn back and no longer walk with Him.

I told Ben I agreed that it was impossible to consider all other religions and come to the conclusion that only Jesus is true. I told him I had no such experience and know that I cannot gain that experience. The only reason I am a Christian is not because I have considered Christ before I came to know Him. The only reason I am a Christian is because, God, in His mercy, has revealed Himself true to me. He has revealed the dire state of my soul’s worth and my desperate need for Jesus Christ. It was not about a choice I made, but a choice He did, a choice that displayed His grace, love and glory in Jesus Christ.

Ben accepted what I said, not with doubt or cynicism, but simply as it is. Ben himself told me that he knows what Christianity is about; he just needs to know that it is true before he can have faith in Jesus Christ. And I pray that God will show him grace and call my friend into a position of desperation, a position where we all have to be if we truly desire to find life, life as it was meant to be.

23 Years of Potential?

It certainly was not enjoyable spending my birthday rushing through lab procedures in school, and having to go home only to prepare for a test that took place the following evening. Certainly not enjoyable to me at all. Yet amidst the lack of time, or perhaps during one of those moments where I just refused to think about dentistry, I still was able to steal some time away to ponder about life.

Not too long ago, a young kid was told by his nursery teacher that he was ‘stupid’, simply because he did not fare too well in his colouring assignment then. A couple of years later, in his teens, his band conductor commented on his unintelligence, simply because he played a single note wrongly.

The young kid, then, refused to go to school, and when his mum realised what had happened, got the nursery teacher sacked. The teen left the band, picked up a new instrument, only to help them out two years later, representing his school in a competition. This feat with only two weeks of practice.

Despite the few negative comments he has received, he has received many comments about his potential. His potential to achieve much in the future. The same kid who was inept at colouring, has now found himself drilling cavities in the mouths of patients, sculpting and carving full anatomical wax ups of teeth that has to be precise to fractions of a millimetre. The same teen who was deemed ‘unintelligent’ by his band conductor has now found himself a place in one of the most sought after places in the university today. This very same lad just received a compliment from his professor that he has the potential to do very well (except that he has to improve his handwriting so that he would not penalise himself during examinations…), not too long ago.

Perhaps he has indeed risen above those early negative perceptions, and has indeed flourished according to his potential. He probably has indeed achieved much. People once told him how much potential he has, and he must make use of this ‘God given potential’ to serve God and edify the church. He was once a youth leader in church, guiding a couple of the younger ones in their walk with God and helping them to also fulfil their ‘God given potential’, to achieve much in life and ministry. But is fulfilling one’s potential and living up to the expectations of others really so essential in life? Is it really that important to bloom in one’s ‘God-given’ potential?

It is not unusual for us to think about how we have got to trust God, and when we remain faithful, we are able to fulfil that ‘God-given’ potential. For this is what many of us are told. The secular world tells us to achieve and max out our potential, and we become a slave to our ambitions. The church attempts to Christianise the same very message adding an element of faith to it.

It is a message I am all to used to the past 23 years of my life. I am told that I need to do this and that to fulfil the ‘God-given’ potential or destiny God has for my life. That Jesus will empower me to fulfil this potential. And it would be such a waste if I do not fulfil this potential. That by trusting in Jesus, I can accomplish great things which I otherwise would not be able to. That if I come before Him, I would gain many achievements. But does this truly glorify God?

The thing about coming to Jesus to fulfil our potential is all but a masquerade of self glorification. For though it may seem that by coming to God to have our ‘God-given’ potential fulfilled, God is glorified through our deeds, the true idol is in our desire to have our potential fulfilled. While we may pay lip service to having God glorified, more often than not, our joy lies in the fact that we have achieved something. We find comfort in the fact that we have finally achieved something, and God is just the means by which we flourish and bloom to our fullest potential. Instead of God being all satisfying, we become satisfied only because we have gained something by the grace of God, not in and because of the grace of God. And somehow, we only become interested in God when there is a task for us to fulfil, and we are rarely able to find rest simply in His grace alone.

Oftentimes, we become so obsessed with finding out God’s will for our lives, whether the certain peculiar thing we do is indeed a choice that God wishes us to take. We get all panicky and frantic if we have not ‘heard’ from God regarding what to do, for if we did not choose what God had intended for us, we would not be living fully to our ‘God-given’ potential. Think again. Is it God we are truly concerned, or simply a preservation of self that we are truly concerned about. It has always been the me. Whether I fulfil MY ‘God-given’ potential. Whether I chose the right thing so that MY future is secured and blissful. That I have to come to Christ, otherwise I would not be able to achieve anything. And I have to get involved in this so that God would use ME. It seems as though God works so that I can work, and thus God works to serve me.

Are we, then, truly serving God, or using God to serve our lust for self glory and the need to feel important, having achieved and accomplish something?

And that is why I have come to realise that potential does not mean a thing at all. The past 23 years of my life has, in fact, been nothingness. In trying to fulfil my ‘God-given’ potential, I have in fact not achieved anything. For what does my potential mean at the end of the day? Does it count for anything to have it ‘fulfilled’? Is the Christian life and service truly about blossoming to one’s ‘God-given potential’? Is that truly the message of the Gospel? Is that what the Cross truly means?

The Cross is a tragic display of humanity’s inability to do anything that is of any worth. For if there is any innate worthiness, whatsoever, in mankind, there would not be a need for Christ to hang there. The Cross is also a glorious display of how humanity ought to be defined. It is at the Cross where man is once again defined as how he ought to be. It is at the Cross where Christ took on humanity, restoring it to what the Father intended. And therefore, if there is anything that is to define who I am, it can only be found in Jesus Christ, for apart from him, humanity cannot be defined.

And if it were so, and rightly so, there is no inherent worthiness of any sorts in man, much less any potential. What we have to realise is that the Christian life is not about realising our ‘God-given’ potential, but it is about Christ Jesus being realised in us. It’s about being transformed by the Spirit’s work into the likeness of Christ, for it is Jesus Christ who brings true meaning to humanity.

The thing about abiding and living in Christ is not about coming to Him with our long list of desires and ambitions to be filled in. It is not about Jesus helping us live to our fullest potential. It certainly is not about using God as a means to fulfil our aims or to achieve anything. But it’s about realising that there is no potential within us, realising that the only way by which we can be defined is not by our ‘God-given’ potential, tasks, abilities so to speak, but by the very nature of Christ Jesus Himself. It is about realising that we are nothing, and rightfully nothing without Him.

It is not about Christianising our lust for self glory by falling back on the ‘God-given’ potential premise, but to realise that such a premise is still a life independent and apart from Christ, that such is only an attempt to use Christ to serve our desires and need for something to be achieved by us. It is not about MY potential in Christ, or my ‘God-given’ potential for that matter. But it is about a God who loved enough to die on the Cross, taking all of humanity. It is about an imbecile race, not being able to achieve anything, not having any innate potential whatsoever, having no hope, but being restored only by a Saviour who came and define all of humanity. It is not about having my potential realised, but to have Jesus realised in me.

And while I do acknowledge that I have much potential, yet my faith in Jesus is not contingent on the realisation of these potentials. It does not make a difference whether or not these potentials are realised, for they do not define who I am. And if I allow them to define who I am, I have chosen to be defined by something of me that is apart from Christ Jesus. There is no worth in knowing or realising my potential, for it is a meaningless pursuit, even if I were to fall back on the pseudo spiritual claim of a ‘God-given’ potential. But what matters is whether I know Christ Jesus, His death and the power of His resurrection, and to have His life realised in mine, for that is the only way by which my life has been realised in Him, and not my ‘God-given’ potential. Though this does not mean that I shall become slothful. It just means that, now being under and in Christ, I abide by what He commands in His revealed Word, and not chasing imaginary word that exists in the recesses of my deceitful human heart, or a figment of my imagination.

Our notion of the Christian life must undergo a tectonic shift from the centrality of realising our potentials, to that of having Christ realised in us. We must stop thinking of what to achieve next, and focus on what Christ has already achieved on the Cross. We must stop thinking we ought do something that defines Christianity, and realise that it is the Cross that defines Christianity and what we do.

And thus my prayer for myself is not that I live to fulfil those potentials others spoke about, but that I may truly know Christ Jesus, His death and the power of His Resurrection. And in doing so, be empowered by the Spirit, not to fulfil my inherent potential, but that I may truly bear fruit for the Father’s glory, not by my deeds, but by being fully satisfied and contented in Him alone. For by such can I then be sure that my life amounts to nothing at the end of the day, for I have not come to know myself or my potentials, or to be defined by them, but to have known Christ Jesus, Him realised in me, and defining who I am.

funny love

I was at the airport seeing a friend off earlier on. It’s so funny. His actions reminded me of another friend. He was there, together with the rest of church friends. They were teasing him and another girl. And then he introduced me to her and said, ‘Jon, this is my co-worker. Remember THAT co-worker I told you about.’ Haha. So obvious and he gave her an extra large gift, which stood out from those we received.

It just reminds me about a close friend when he ‘tried’ to introduce me to a girl. He dropped me a message that read ‘Why so tau (colloquial for aloof)?’ I really didn’t get what he meant until he explained. Then, I wondered if he had wanted me to greet someone who probably regarded me as a stranger, whom probably have no idea who this dude is because she was never introduced to him by anyone else before, and then tell her, ‘Hi. I’m a friend of that guy over there. The guy who’s madly in love with you, just that you didn’t know about it yet. He just told me to greet you.’

I guess those are the moments in our life. When we’re caught by someone, overwhelmed by our emotions, losing all sorts of rationality. Perhaps we all need to be like that again. To be that excited about the Gospel.

Fighting our Demons – Losing Sight of It all

It was one of those highly disturbing documentaries. The kind that makes you cringe and question ‘What’s wrong with him?’ The kind that affects you because somehow or another you could relate and identify with it. The kind that hits a raw spot at home.

I had a lot of difficulties watching how exorcism was carried out. And it inevitably led me to harbour a lot of question on the legitimacy of this practice.

There is a particular sect in the Philippines led by Hinirang Ng Diyos. He believes that he is the one chosen by God and is a practising Roman Catholic. He has a group of followers and as part of their training, he urges them to prove their election by eating shards of glass broken off a fluorescent tube laden with mercury. He theorises that if they were indeed chosen by God, they would have no fear because they possess special powers to would leave them unscathed.

His ten year old niece is one of them. She believes that her uncle is speaking the gospel truth. She thinks that the Lord gave these instructions to her uncle and she has got to follow them if she wants to become a spiritual healer. And so she chews on the shards of glass heavily laden with mercury.

Then there is Bob Larson. A pastor of the Spiritual Freedom Church. He believes that more than fifty percent of the people are possessed by demons, and his mission to exorcise them. He first detects who those possessed by demons are by holding out a cross, as though it was some demon radar. He would then call the person up and start his exorcism by invoking the name of Christ, followed by smacking the possessed individual with a leather bound Bible, getting his entire congregation to help support him and all these are done not without a microphone and the cameras.

During his ritual, the possessed individual would start convulsing, crying and bawling. He would sometimes start vomiting. And most often than not, a petite lady would need four strong men to hold her down. When his ritual is complete, the congregation would resound in cheers. Larson would then go on about how everyone must be freed from the bondage of Satan through the power of Christ. And this is what disturbs me most.

It disturbs me greatly when preachers go round telling congregations that they are possessed, the need for exorcism, and that they have to go through some kind of deliverance ministry before they can truly experience the fullness of life realised in Christ Jesus. It also disturbs me greatly when preachers call for an altar call after an emotionally stirring message. They claim that God is speaking to them and now is the moment where the Holy Spirit is pouring out its power, now is the moment where the Spirit is moving people to repentance, and now is the moment for them to respond, otherwise the chance is gone forever. These gestures are most often couple with the musician playing some kind of music that strongly engages the emotions, coupled with strong emotive language that is often ambiguous.

It disturbs me greatly because I have experienced and been a part of it all. It disturbs me greatly because I find no biblical warrant for such actions. It disturbs me greatly because it distracts us all from what the Gospel is about.

Whenever the preacher used to speak of deliverance as normative of Christian growth and spirituality, and that unless one goes through this ritual, one cannot experience the fullness of the Christian life, a feeling of guilt overwhelms me. I felt as though I’m a lesser Christian, unable to experience the full joy of our Lord Jesus Christ, simply because I did not go for deliverance ministry. And during those altar call moments, I again felt as though I missed out on something because I failed to seize that momentous occasion when the Spirit of God was working and moving in the midst of the congregation.

I have experienced pastors telling me that they feel that God is going to work at that session, that He is going to move among the people and that we, the youth leaders, must be prepared to pray for the youths who were going to come forward. And it would be better if we could pray in tongues. We were told we had to better prepare ourselves for that session. It seemed normative that sessions at youth camp would end with a time of ‘ministry’.

I started questioning if God’s power was indeed limited to that moment in time and space. It baffled me that the Spirit would only pour out its power and blessings after the emotive message was preached. It confused me how the power of the Spirit was given a boost by the ‘anointed’ musicians. It just seemed so strange that the power of God fell only upon a few, often the pastors, and that we had to rely on them in order to experience the fullness of the Christian life. And does it mean that I’m missing out on a whole lot more because I was not prayed for during that session as I had to go round praying for others?

However, as I continued studying Scripture, I soon realised how ludicrous those claims were and that most of my fears and guilt are unfounded.

There are indeed a few occasions in the Gospel where Jesus heals people afflicted by demonic powers. And Paul did indeed meet with a slave girl who had the spirit of divination. But the question we have got to consider is whether such is normative of the Christian life. Apart from the account in Acts, did Paul write to the churches instructing them of the need to carry out exorcism and deliverance? That unless such offices be carried out, they would not be able to experience the full extent and measure of God’s grace and joy?

There is indeed an account in Acts where Peter prayed for the assembly and the Spirit of the Lord came upon them. But the question we have got to ask again is whether such is the normative of Christian experience? How else does Peter and Paul describe the work of the Spirit among God’s elect?

In Paul’s pastoral epistles to Timothy and Titus, we have got to question why is it that if exorcism and deliverance, as it is carried out today, is indeed normative of Christian experience, why did Paul not exhort his spiritual children and elders of the Church of Christ to carry out such offices? Why did Paul not exhort them to gather the assemblies en masse and capture that moment in time when Spirit was moving and ready to pour out God’s power in the fullest measure? Why did Paul not remind them that if they had missed out on that auspicious hour, those Christian will never be able to experience the full measure of God’s grace, mercy, forgiveness and joy?

I find it extremely disturbing that many Christian these days centre in on a few events in the Bible and stretch it out to be the normative of Christian life. They throw out this blanket of guilt that unless you have experienced one of those encounters, you can never experience the fullness of life in Christ.

A couple of months ago, I met a lady from my previous church. She asked me where I currently was. I told her I’ve since moved to another church and I’m very contented because there is a very strong emphasis on the Word and the preaching is very biblical.

She said that it was good and important that the church place an emphasis on the Word, and then came the ‘but’. The ‘but’ that suggested that there was another clause, another qualification that mattered. The ‘but’ was the power of the Spirit.

Not wanting to jump to conclusion or stereotyping what people meant when they mention ‘Spirit’, though I very much guess it has something to do with hypercharismatic manifestations, I listened to what she had to say. She started talking about tongues. How I must pray in tongues in order to exercise the power of the Spirit. And then she went on about Peter’s vision as a qualification for her claim about tongues. I still do not get how it relates to tongues. I do not understand how Peter’s vision in Acts 10 relates to the manifestation of tongues.

When she finally stopped, I started to ask her if tongues was the only manifestation of the Spirit’s power. She paused, and then she went on to healing and Reinhard Bonkke. She finally came to a stop. And then I asked her if those are the only ways by which the Spirit of God manifests its power. She remained silent.

I then asked her why is it that Paul only mentions tongues in his first epistle to the church in Corinth, and only the first. And if tongues is indeed normative of the Spirit’s work and the life of Christians, should not Paul then address his people with the mention of tongues? How he heard of them speaking in tongues? How he is encouraged by their practice of tongues? How he is sure of the Spirit working among them because he knows that they are practising tongues?

Rather than making mention of tongues, Paul actually speaks of their hope, faith and love. When Paul wrote of the Spirit’s work, he wrote about unity among believers being a work of the Spirit, walking in righteousness being a work of the Spirit, conviction of sin being a work of the Spirit, love among believers being a work of the Spirit, sanctification of believers being a work of the Spirit, preaching of the Gospel being a work of the Spirit, transformation of lives being a work of the Spirit.

Rather than speaking of ministry in terms or exorcism, deliverance or altar calls, Paul reminds his protégés that they are to guard the purity of the Gospel, to teach sound doctrine, reminding them of qualification of the elders and deacons, and the threats of false teacher and prophets amongst their midst.

Rather than exhorting members of the church to go for deliverance ministry, Paul reminds them of what Christ has done. He speaks of the victory that is wrought at the Cross and the blessings appropriated to us by faith, which is a gift of God. He reminds them that the cosmic battle between God and Satan is already won by Christ. He reminds them about the sinful and hopeless nature they were in before they were in Christ. He then goes on to exhort them unto holy living as a response to the grace found in Christ Jesus. Of how the Spirit works among and in them to bring them into conformity of Christ. And that the spiritual bondage they once were in is broken off by Christ on the Cross, and not by some ritualistic practice we see today.

Rather than speaking of what we often hear in church today, Paul never fails to remind his brethren of the depths of God’s grace and the appropriate response to so deep a grace.

Perhaps it is about time we look at what is important. If tongues, deliverance, exorcisms, altar calls and ministry en masse are indeed normative of biblical Christianity, the question we have to ask ourselves is why is there little mention, and often non, in Scripture? If it is indeed of utmost importance that we go through those ritualistic and emotional experiences before we can fully appropriate the fullness of life in Christ, why is it that the Apostles make little mention to such practices which contemporary Christianity make much of today?

Perhaps by preoccupying ourselves with those practices, we have lost sight of what God is indeed revealing to us in the Scriptures. Perhaps by tuning our ‘spiritual ears’ to the subjective impressions of the Spirit, we have inadvertently filtered out what the objective revelations of the Spirit in the Scriptures.

Perhaps by obsessing ourselves with demon possession and spiritual bondages, we have really fallen prey to the devil’s attack and are in a standstill in the work and progress of the Gospel. Simply because we have become too caught up with our subjective impressions, fighting the demons that live within us, and others, forever perceiving that we need that moment of ministry after the service in order to be liberated to experience the fullness of life promised in Christ. And in doing so, we forget about the richness of His grace, His power, love and glory displayed when justice and mercy met at the Cross, the movement and work of the Spirit in renewing our minds, subjecting us as one under and in Christ and the transformation of our natures into the conformity of His glorious Son.

Perhaps it is about time we stop blanketing others with that blanket of guilt, that unless they respond to the emotive ambiguous language coupled, with the sentimental and moving background music, they can’t experience the fullness of life found in Christ, simply because it is not true.

The God I believe in, whom is revealed to me in the Scriptures, is a God of eternity. My chains and bondages with the dark world was already broken on the Cross at Calvary, where the penalty of my sin was paid forth by the atoning death of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. My God is a God who is constantly at work. His Spirit moves within me by the moment, sanctifying me and making me conform into the image of my Lord Jesus Christ. His Spirit is not bound by season or moments in time, and He acts according to the sovereign will of the Father. The power of His might is not bound by the apparent manifestations that are deemed dramatic by men, but His power and might is expressed when He convicts me of my sin and empowers me to walk in the grace and righteousness of my Lord Jesus Christ, bringing glory to the Father.

There is indeed a battle of cosmic proportions that is being fought. And when we choose to lift our eyes from the Cross and His glory, making much of what is little, or not, mentioned in the Scriptures, and making light of what the Apostles remind time after time, we have lost sight of what is important. We have become that soldier, who in the midst of a battle, stooped down to polish his boots, because he has found a speck of mud on it, while the rest of his comrades are arduously fighting the true battle. Indeed he has lost sight of it all, because he is not fighting the true battle, choosing only to fight the demons within him, ignoring the true battle the Lord has called him to.

Insecurity and Aggression

We often fail to see the hand of God amidst our pains. Yet it is through these hurts and pains that the glory of God is manifested. I could not make sense of what I was going through half a year ago. Feelings of hurt and betrayal overwhelmed me. I broke down many times. Some in the privacy of my bed room. Others in the presence of trusted friends.

It did not make sense to me at all. I simply could not comprehend why God placed me in such a predicament. It just did not seem fair that I had to go through so much pain because I took things seriously, while others who were flippant could get away scot free, unscathed, unwounded.

A couple of months of rest in a community that truly manifested the love of Christ and an article I read last night that deeply resonated within me enabled me to make sense of what went on. He had a purpose in it all, a purpose I finally understood and am thankful for.

When I read Mishandling twentysomethings by Anthony Bradley last night, these words stared out at me, ‘he craves and needs validation and would like to use the church to make him feel good about himself’. At that moment, everything clicked. It made sense. It all made sense. Those words were the perfect description of who I was before.

Bradley’s article dealt with how young men my age, and like me, have often been mismanaged by the church. We’re the rare breed of young men who, in Bradley’s words, ‘tend to stand out because their twentysomething men peers are generally absent in most churches and many of the others present are going through religious motions, attending because of parental legalism, or because of girlfriend or wife pressure.’

Back then, I was active in youth ministry. Taking care of the younger ones. Leading a group of younger boys. Planning youth camps. Getting involved in almost any conceivable church programme. And though my concern and love for the next generation was true and deep, yet much of my actions were only reactions to the insecurities that were consuming me day by day. I was craving for and having a need for validation, and was using the church to make me feel good about myself. In plain words, I was insecure about my identity and was building it upon how others would perceive me to be.

During those years, the message that I saw in church was that if you wanted to be noticed, you had to be a somebody. It was not a message that was preached verbally, but a message that was lived out by those around me and soon subconsciously picked up by me as I observed what was going on. In order to be noticed or cared for, you had to have grown up in church, know the uncles and aunties in church, your parents had to be friends with them, you had to be in the cool clique and hang out with the cool dudes in church. Since I did not fit in any of those categories. I had to find another way for me to be loved and noticed. The most obvious was through ministry.

When I first came to church, no one took noticed of me. They just said hi the first time I came, and then I was left alone all the way in the back of the pews. I was only given attention when I started to help out in some events. And I began to make more ‘friend’ when I helped out with stuff more. Apart from that, no one bothered about my life, or what I went through. Perhaps it was early during that period of time that I was subconsciously induced into using such as a means of vying for the much needed attention I desired.

It seemed to work. The more I did in church, the more people gave me their attention. It seemed to me that I was valued for what I did. My peers who did not ‘contribute’ that much were often unnoticed by the adults in church. And because I did not feel valued as a person, the only way for me to feel valued was by simply doing more. At that point of time, I was not aware that this was the quiet motivation and driving force behind my actions, yet it was the very force that slowly consumed me and eventually led to my uncontrollable aggression.

My identity was built around my ability to articulate my thoughts and insights on matters. I was accustomed to just speaking my mind about things, and the more I spoke, the more attention I was given. Attention was given to me because I was outspoken. If I had not speak or made myself known, no one would have bothered about me. That was how I felt. However, such was not the right means to settle scores with my insecurity.

I was battling many struggles at that point of time. Though I was involved in much, yet I was feeling very lonely deep inside. In order to gain acceptance and to be noticed, I thought I had to do more. The more I did, the more weary my soul became. The more weary I became, the more I responded in aggression. My aggressive behaviour soon got the better of me and I had to leave the place, together with much hurt, sadness and feelings of betrayal.

At that point of time, I could not understand why did I have to go through so much hurt. I fought for the convictions I stood for, albeit in a very aggressive manner, and for that reason I suffered much. It just did not seem right. It did not make sense to me why flippant individuals who did not care about what was going on in church would be allowed to go away scot free without any hurt. It did not make sense to me why certain people with questionable behaviour were not dealt with, yet I had to go through so much. I felt very dejected about ministry and did not want to get involved in anything anymore. I felt that the more I care, the more hurt I would have to bear. And it did not make sense why I had to suffer so much hurt because I cared. I had many questions. But they were not the right ones.

Since then, I have found a community that loves you even before you can find a reason for them loving you. I have met a people who take an interest in your life even before they know you, or what you have to offer. I have met a people who fit you in before you even try to figure out how you can fit in. And in the midst of these people, I have learnt what true rest in grace and love is.

Grace is about a Father who loves us even though we cannot think of any reason why He should. Grace is about Jesus Christ taking an interest in our lives even though we have nothing to offer. Grace is about the Spirit that enables us to commune with God even before we can figure out how to.

And it is only in such grace that we can find rest. It is only in such grace that we can truly find love.

In our pragmatic world, we are inundated with the mantra that the value of a person is based on what he has to offer and what he has achieved. Daily we try to establish our worth based on our achievements. In order to be accepted our parents, we know we have to achieve good grades. In order to be accepted by our peers, we need to dress like them, speak like the, play like them. In order to be accepted by our mate, we need to be well groomed and fit into the social stereotype of that jock or chick. In order to be accepted by society, we must achieve much in the material world.

We all seek for acceptance. And when we fail to find that acceptance, we become very insecure about ourselves. The more insecure we become, the more we seek for acceptance. And in my case, it mounted up into aggression. The only solution to our insecurity is the rest that is only found in grace and love.

Grace is about a God who accepts and loves without any reason to do so. The world tells us that we are accepted only based on our achievements. Sadly, that ideology has permeated the church too. Many of times people are only noticed or given attention only if they have been with the church since young and know the other adults who are friends with their parents, or if they have some worthy contribution to the church, or fitted in well with the subculture peculiar to others in the congregation. But is this what true grace and love is.

The call to follow Christ is a call to be countercultural. It is disappointing to see how people in church would only accept others based on what they achieved, totally disregarding their value in Christ. Day by day we are slapped with a message of achievement. That if we want to be accepted, we need to achieve something in life.

Therefore, it is all the more important that, as followers of Christ, we reject this notion of acceptance based on achievements and proclaim a message of grace not simply with words, but by actual manifestations. Grace is when we accept others regardless of their achievements and contributions. Grace is when we love even before we should find any reason to do so. Grace is when we give attention to those whom we normally would not associated with or not have any prior relations with before. If and unless the Church of Christ manifests true love and grace, such cannot be found in the world.

It is only in such grace and love that we can truly find rest from our insecurity. It is only when the Church of Christ manifest the true grace and love of Christ that the disquieted soul is finally stilled.

The world tells us to love only if we can find a reason for doing so. God loves before we can find any reason why He should. The world tells us to take an interest in a person only when he has something to offer. Christ took an interest though we had nothing to offer. The world tells us to accept only those who are like us. The Spirit makes us acceptable before God the Father in Christ Jesus.

Today, I finally understood why I had to go through all that. It was His way of pruning the branch. If He had not put me through all that hurt and pain, I would have failed to see how my insecurity had led to my aggression. It was His way of dealing with my insecurity and making me realise that true love and grace is what I need. It was His way of dealing with my aggression that manifested itself from my insecurity. It was His way of bringing me back to Him, that I may truly be secure in Christ alone. And He did so by bringing me to a place where the grace and love of God is truly being manifested in His people.

Where the Spirit of Christ is moving, there is the Church of Christ manifesting the grace and love of the Father, the only true solution to our insecurity and aggression.

Lest We Forget

‘Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children.’ Deut 4:9

Yet again the demise of another person jolted me to much thought. My grandaunt gave me a book she wrote about my late granduncle two years ago, but I never got down to it, until this morning. I only knew him as a political figure, and like many young Singaporeans, I never paid much attention to his labours, though I very much am reaping the fruits of the seeds he sown.

It was only during the service last evening that I began to get a glimpse of his contributions. After having sung a hymn, the pastor gave time to those who would like to say a few words in appreciation of his life. A retired professor of electrical engineering at the then University of Singapore began talking about how he has the architect of Singapore’s economy. It was only then that I realised what my selective ignorance had cost me.

The pragmatic indulgence of the here and now has caused me to ignore the why and how. The ‘why’ of why our leaders fought so hard to give us what we have today. The ‘how’ of how are we able to reap the rewards of their lives’ labours today. My selective ignorance has cost me a lack of appreciation of what has been done for me, and has led me on to become yet another apathetic Singaporean youth who suffers from a myopia, thinking that all is well and having no thoughts or concerns about my community’s tomorrow. Such ignorance today must necessarily dictate a bleak future for us tomorrow.

Reflecting at my own apathy towards the affairs of the nation, I cannot help but relate it to what is happening within the church today. How many of us know what the Nicene Creed is? And even if we do recite it, what is its significance? Do we know what the battle at the Council of Nicaea was about? Perhaps we have heard the of Augustine. But do we really know what this doctor of grace taught? Do we know of his struggles with Pelagius? Do we even know who Pelagius was and the trouble he’s giving us today?

Fast forward it a little. Apart from associating Calvin with the perennial bulb, do we understand what he fought for? Don’t even know what that bulb is? Shame on you. Do we know how he was reluctantly thrust into undertaking the position of a Reformer? Do Presbyterian youths today know anything about this man at all? What about Cranmer and Latimer? How many Anglicans today just recite the collect from their prayer books without understanding that it was written with the blood of Cranmer? How about Wycliffe and Tyndale? How can we read the anglicised Bible today and not know a thing about these two men? We have taken things too lightly and have taken too much things from granted.

Far too often, we lapse into a pathologic disillusion that my faith just concerns me in the here and now. Forgetting the why and how we have arrived here today, we are unable to connect with the vision of God revealed to those who came before us, and hence are unable to receive the torch which they bore. Failing to receive the torch from them, we are unable to pass it on to the future generation, only if there truly is one.

Our oblivion to the past has created in us a spiritual amnesia. Such an oblivion stems from the primal insistence of a personalised faith that is founded apart from the collective community gathered around and in Christ. We think that God speaks to us only in this present age. Our refusal to reconnect and to understand the past, thinking that what has happened yesterday is irrelevant to us today, is an explicit denial that, even as God is speaking to us in this day and age, God has spoken, is speaking and will continue to speak. Perhaps it’s about time that we awake from our apathetic slumber and begin to be interested in the past. It is only with an appreciation of the past, will we then have a vision for the future. It is only with an attentive ear to what God has spoken to the saints of the past, will we then begin to discern how the Lord is speaking to the Church, not only in this present moment or the future, but through all eternity.

What is of greater concern is how we have remained ignorant to God’s salvation planned revealed in the person of Christ. Today, we have lapsed into a pathologic religious orientation dubbed as a ‘moralistic, therapeutic deism’ (by Christian Smith, professor at Notre Dame). The brand of Christianity is moralistic today because we think that all we need to do is just to give people good advice and encouragement, and all will be well. It is therapeutic today because Jesus exists for my emotional needs, He is there only to comfort me in my times of pain, only to ensure that I am happy all the time, only to give me assurance that all is well for me. It is deistic today because Jesus does not normally get involved in my life or care about what I do, He comes only to heal, only to help me get that job or promotion, only to answer the prayers that spring from the depraved desires of my deceitful heart. Such reflects our primal preoccupation with the here and now, not the why and how.

We have, often, forgotten the ‘why’ of why we need Jesus. The ‘why’ of why He had to assume such a condescending position, taking the lowly form of man. The ‘why’ of why He had to come to die. The ‘why’ of why He did what he did. The reason why is because of sin. A disease so rampant and pervasive, that it has infected the entire human race through the fall of one man.

We have, again. forgotten the ‘how’. The ‘how’ of how this redemption was bought. The ‘how’ of how He suffered. The ‘how’ of how we are made new again. The ‘how’ of how the Church is gathered together. The ‘how’ happened at Calvary. Where through the sufferings and death of one Man, on the Cross, was the majestic display both of God’s anger and love, of both God’s judgment and mercy, of both God’s righteousness and grace.

Without a vision of the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of Calvary, we would never understand the ‘why’ of the why we do what we do today and the ‘how’ of how ought we live today.

Shall we rest content only with singing how God is ‘Mighty to Save’, not knowing ‘why’ is He mighty to save? Or ‘how’ is He mighty to save? Or even ‘what’ does He save us from? Is our vision of God merely that only of one where we can get advice and motivations about the ups and downs of life? Is our vision of God that only of one who creates a warm emotional nest for us to be smothered in? Is our vision of God one where He is our life buoy? What does He saves us from?

Yes, God can do all that. He can lift up my spirits when I am down. He will provide in my times of needs. But He did much more. He saved me from my sin. He saved me from my rebellion against Him. He saved me from death. It is more fitting, thus, that we consider ‘The Power of the Cross’, rather than to be ignorant about how God is ‘Mighty to Save’.

Perhaps it is now time for us to step back from the here and now, to step back to the dawn of Creation, into the Garden of Eden, moving on to Egypt, through to the Exodus, into the Exile, creeping towards Bethlehem, struggling into Gethsemane, crawling towards Calvary, progressing towards Emmaus, being led to Bethany and looking forward to the New Jerusalem.

We are a people prone to forget. We forget what our leaders have fought for, and remain both unappreciative of their efforts and apathetic towards our community. We forget what the Church Fathers believed in and the blood shed by the Reformers, and remain both unappreciative of the heritage they left us with and apathetic towards the community gathered by, through, around and in Christ Jesus. We forget who Jesus is, what God has accomplished through Him and how the Spirit is moving through all eternity, and remain both ungrateful of what redemption was wrought through God’s grace at Calvary and indifferent towards the Body in which God has made us all one in Christ Jesus.

Perhaps it is now time to consider the Gospel, the true Gospel communicated to us by God in the person of Jesus Christ by the revelation of the Spirit, lest we forget the things our eyes have seen, and lest they depart from our hearts from all the days of our lives, becoming unable to make them known to our children and our children’s children.