Independence Day Reflection
...kebangkitan...
...kemuliaan...
...keimanan...
On my desk (the equipment that sustains me in the present)

Below my desk (the lifeforms that keep me in touch with...well...life)

On my wall (the faces that keep me focused on The Kingdom)
*This picture was retaken several hours later*

On my left (the literature that keeps me in touch with my thoughts)

Self-denial is to be free to.
In denying ones' self, one becomes free. In recovering freedom by way of deliberate release, one truly begins to own one's life. We deny ourselves so that we can truly own ourselves. For it is in truly owning ourselves that we are free to choose to offer this self to the single-minded purpose of the Kingdom of God.Self-denial is not to be undertaken by way of punishing ourselves and our bodies. In the history of mankind, there have been many who have thought by some form of infliction of pain upon one's self, that a more noble sense of the divine was to be attained. This defies the sacredness of the human body - and thereby the human person - whose body was crafted by the hands of its Author of Life. The body, with all its decadence that we perceive it to suffer, is not to be denigrated mindlessly and carelessly. It is an instrument to be offered unto the redemptive purpose of its Crafter.
In the spirit of self-denial, we no longer cling on to possessions, relationships, health, and the like. It is not that we no longer possess these things, but rather, that we are no longer bound by them. In denying ourselves, the clutches of these good things no longer have a hold on us. We are thereby free to exploit these things for the Kingdom of God. We are also released from a fear to lose these things; we are emancipated from a false and superficial security that somehow our lives are better lived under the mastery of these things.
Self-denial is such that we shall own, but we shall no longer possess. For everything that we own shall be offered unto the higher purpose of the Kingdom of God. In releasing ourselves unto a freedom to live, we are truly free to fulfill a life of purpose and obedience when we hear the voice of God beckon.
The Kingdom of God is built by those who learn to deny themselves for its sake. For those who deny themselves not, they may perhaps (just perhaps) still constitute a part of this Kingdom; but they will not be cooperative builders in accordance with the divine design of its Master Architect, for they are enslaved to a purpose of a lower order.
It is the natural inclination for the human mind to subjectively rationalise himself unto a faith that requires no denial of the self. Yes, there is space within the human conscience for such false rationalisations indeed. For after all, to venerate anything or anyone other than God is actually to venerate one's self. But the cross of Christ - the ultimate symbol of suffering and self-denial - beckons unto the Christian to embrace the call to self-denial. It calls the Christian to rise beyond the voices of a thousand other seemingly similar gospels to embrace the Gospel of the God who carried his cross. For he is the God who said "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me".
There are some who may say that self-denial should not be overly emphasised, for one must seek a balance in one's faith. But the God who called us unto faith has never ordained a balanced faith. His is a faith in which one must either choose him or choose one's self. And to choose him, one must abandon the self. There is no balance. Only choice.
The friend replied, "Sherman, I'm so proud that you're my friend", to which Sherman reciprocated, "And I am proud to be your friend".
A while later, Sherman wished his friend farewell...and the friend asked, "Are we meeting again tomorrow?"
Sherman beamed in delight. He had presented the way of Christ to someone whom he could simply call "a friend". Someone who wanted to eat with him again. Above all, he was happy - truly happy - that he had made a friend in the way that Christ did.
Sherman secretly patted himself on the back...but that's a secret.
And yet, perhaps, it is the place within you that you most fear, for there you will find yourself as you truly are. Few love what they see in themselves. And yet, if you are to live authentically, you must enter and discover the reality that emerges from that place within you. It is there that you will uncover reasons for the words that you speak and the actions that you perform.
The key to that place is one of silent contemplation and quiet confidence. There is little meaning to be found in noise and haste. If there is one virtue most people lack in the modern currents of life, it is one of quiet confidence and solitude. All too often, man has tried to drown himself in the noisy currents of “human progress” in order that he may conceal his own hollowness. He constructs worldly empires as monuments that affirm his perception of himself. With health and wealth, he fears nothing. He scales every height and explores every depth on the face of the earth. He uncovers every corner of the universe. And yet, his achievements still leave him wanting, for the one place he fears to enter is that secret place within him. Over the years, he has acquired the skill of isolating himself from that secret place, for it renders him more vulnerable than he dares to be.
But such is the paradox of life; it is only in vulnerability and weakness that one can truly discover authenticity and meaning in existence. It is only from solitude that one can emerge to contribute a meaningful symphony to the senseless noise of life. It is only in the solitude of that place that the voice of God may be heard most clearly, for it is there that one can come to him as one truly is. It is there that one can truly meet with God; neither in the resounding noise of life nor the currents of progress, but only in the stillness of solitude.
Welcome to the world of self-awareness.
These past couple of days have been mentally (not intellectually) engaging for me. The reason for this was my whole venture into the blogging arena. See, the baby steps in my blogging efforts (as with most people) started in Blogger. All was well and fun. Until I decided it was time for me to acquire my own domain name and republish my entire blog through FTP (a fundamental rule of blogging: when you can't explain something, link). This entire process of setting up my new domain and transferring the contents of my blog from Blogger's server to my own web space server confronted me with the idiocy of my own incompetence in mechanisms of web publishing.
It hit me that if I had not received the kind of help I did (I'm sure the kind helper would rather remain anonymous), my blog wouldn't be up by now. This begs the question of how I am ever going to survive my blogging career in the many years to come. Believe it or not, I find it to be a most disturbing reality that someone else can read manuals and follow the steps described therein, only to emerge with more than presentable-looking blogs, whilst I will have to be solely reliant on a template for the rest of my life. I cannot even specify the FTP pathway without knowing that I don't in fact understand what it means!
I suppose blogging is not a field that I can pursue the way many other people do, who can meddle with the technicalities of the enterprise and custom-design their own blogs to contain specific features they desire to have. Perhaps I have to - by way of sheer incompetence - settle with the reality that I love to blog simply because I have many things to say that I would not normally like to verbalise in the midst of a live audience. And this means that I will keep having to solicit help in alleviating the sufferings caused by technical challenges of my blogging career, just so that I can keep having the luxury of just blogging.
That's all I wanted to say. Just to confront the cloud of self-pity that has befallen me from a disability uncovered. Blogging rules.
One wonders, what might be a better way for such conversations to take place? And how can the dynamics of such conversations pertaining to theological convictions be regulated in order to avoid unnecessary conflict?
Perhaps one does well to begin with an acknowledgement that language is an absolutely deficient vehicle of expression regarding things of the absolute. But that does not in itself mean that there is no absolute. What it does mean is that we should never assume our linguistic reflections of absolute truth to be exhaustive in itself. After all, if the Lord of the Christian faith has claimed that Truth is embodied in the form of a Person ("I am the Way, the Truth and the Life"), it would then follow that no language can exhaustively express the reality of this Truth (the Person).
Hence, what we should seek to do is to enter conversations as learners rather than teachers. It is naive to enter any conversation with the assumption that our competence in establishing the truth will invariantly lead to acceptance of that "truth" itself. Even if our logical constructions of our truth prevail above those of the other person, the question remains..."so what?"
I desire to be more inclined, in such conversations, to be focused on the "personhood of the other" rather than on the "truth that I seek to establish". Increasingly, I am beginning to realise that the Truth I claim to believe in lives within me, and I must seek to be an embodiment of that truth by establishing authentic friendships with those I desire to converse with. I must choose to perceive them as friends along the journey rather than opposition treading on separate paths.
In the process of argumentative debates, my verbal claims of the Truth that I believe in may demean the personhood of the other. Furthermore, these claims seldom lead one to conviction, and even if they do, only grudgingly. But the living of truth and the sharing of truth from a companion who honours and respects the "otherness" of his fellow friends advances the prospect of radical impact. Marshall McLuhan is correct: the medium is the message. In bringing the message of truth and love and redemption, I must be the embodiment of this very message I seek to carry.
What is the point in correcting people's misperceptions about God if my very approach in correcting those misperceptions itself gives rise to even greater misperceptions?
Well, here we are...I'm not sure how long it will take to sort out the major issues like the restoration of all my pictures that have been lost from www.shermankuek.blogspot.com. But I am well-aided with worthily intelligent assistance, so I am assuming that it will all be sorted out within the next couple of days.
Meanwhile, the blog entries still proceed as usual...pictureless though they may be.
Kick your shoes off, have fun, and make yourself at home in my messy living room. It's free for all who would kindly concede to my humble invitation to communal friendship...
In accordance with the new Kingdom principle of life, solidarity is to be present in a most unusual way among professing followers of Christ Jesus. For Jesus himself, at the inauguration of the Kingdom during the course of his earthly life, had radically redefined the meaning of solidarity.
He changed the course of earthly family relations by establishing familial relations of an eternal order. Family, in accordance with the Kingdom, is no more simply about blood relations. It is about spiritual relations within communities that share meaning in their relationship with one another and with their Saviour and Lord. It is about being brothers and sisters to some, and being parents and children to yet some others, in a very real sense, and yet without requiring biological ties to regulate such relationships. It is about the voluntary yielding of one's allegiance to others within the community even if the worldly order finds an absence of necessity for such.
In Christ, the person who does the will of God is my brother or sister - in a very real sense. In Christ, the person who guides, loves, and accompanies me in my faith journey is my parent - in a very real sense. The reality of this communal solidarity finds its legitimacy beyond the worldly order. It is the order of the Kingdom.
What if you were told that within the order of this Kingdom, one should never - NEVER - claim exclusive ownership of his possessions? What if you were told that within the order of this Kingdom, one's claims of ownership over all possessions are dissolved such that one should never even claim sole ownership of his own life and and its accompanying rights?
Such is the Kingdom-life. It is where solidarity finds its deapest embodiment, wherein each person in submitting to the rule of God abandons his rights and offers himself to the service of others within the community. He renders himself and his possessions vulnerable to the exploitations of others, for his greatest treasure is now God and his neighbours. And for them and unto them, he shall live and love.
Just for the record, I want to thank Revd Sivin Kit for the tremendous pressure he has slammed upon me to begin this blogging enterprise (well, nah, it wasn't so hard...I'm disgracefully gullible). And also, a big word of thanks to Wai Nyan for helping me to tweak the blog in the hazardous engine room (and yes, this one was hard!).
Now, this is the real announcement: I have taken the liberty to make some major modifications to the page on my personal profile. Why? Just so I can know me better; yeah.
Once again, watch out for the soon-to-be change of my blog address from www.shermankuek.blogspot.com to www.ShermanKuek.net. It should be taking place really soon, although I am not entirely sure when.
Okay, now back to The Way of Christ (4ii): SOLIDARITY. Coming soon...
So this is an official Sherman on the Mount announcement: this web log will in the next couple of days (or weeks, depending on how fast I manage to get the mechanism going) become www.ShermanKuek.net and no longer www.ShermanKuek.blogspot.com.
To the man who has made this absolutely affordable for me...thank you, my friend. I deeply appreciate your friendship.
Please keep your eyes wide shut for further updates!
At one level, we are called to live in solidarity with all creation and with the entire human race. The fact that we are followers of Christ does not make others less human than we are, for our stories are written by the hands of the same divine Author.
We seek not to treat others as those who are more ignorant than us simply because we possess knowledge of ultimate truth, for truth is to be shared among all who seek the deeper things in life. Furthermore, it is not that we have found truth, but rather, that the Truth has found us, lest anyone should walk this path in boastful arrogance.
In a spirit of solidarity, we walk the path of humanity by partaking in the sufferings of Christ (who himself, in so doing, was partaking in the sufferings of humanity). It is when we have partaken in the sufferings of humanity in the spirit of solidarity with all creation that we then earn the right to invite the world into the reign of God.
Solidarity with the human race also speaks of humble relationality. Whilst we have been found by the compelling love of Christ, we should never assume that we possess exhaustive knowledge of the way of Christ. Knowledge of Christ is never a right; it is a grace we all must share. It is crucial that in relating to others, we should open our hearts and minds to the experience of learning from the diversely rich experiences of others. Everyone has a story to tell (if we would only listen), even the seemingly silent people. Even those who have not confessed Christ may have something of the nature of Christ from within them to impart. After all, Christ is nevertheless their Maker.
Of course, it would be much more soothing to our human ego if we took it upon ourselves to be the storytellers rather than the listeners. But the way of Christ is (as always) different, for in listening to others' life stories, he spoke into and through those very stories they told of. And many found him through these, their stories.
Solidarity with the human race is about offering God's divine gift of friendship regardless of whether others will confess Christ. It is about being Christ - the Friend of sinners (our Friend) - to the world.
...to be continued in The Way of Christ (4ii) : SOLIDARITY...
In keeping with the reality of daily routines, I often have surges of random thoughts (even in between series of progressive theologically-abstract blogging). So I have decided to express them in intermittent blog entries (in between all this theological blogging) that I have decided to call INTERMITTENT INTROSPECTION. So here I go:
[By the way, I'm definitely not finished with the present thought progression on The Way of Christ. I'm only one-third through the series so far.]
1. On Blogging
I am thus far quite happy with the way my blog has turned out. The number of visits I get is not that great, but I'm not sure I'm blogging for others as much as I'm blogging for myself. I'm probably my blog's most frequent visitor, in all honesty. This is not to say that I don't welcome visitations...I love company (short of saying that I'm desperate for company)! And I love the way the "tingles down my spine" feel when I receive comments about how nice my new blog banner is and how catchy my blog name is. But it's probably a very fine line between blogging one's honest thoughts through authentic expression and blogging to serve the interest of the blog-surfing populace. Ah, the idealism of a juvenile blogger. Grow up, Sherman.
I think this facility provided by Blogger.com has done a great service to HTML-deficient amateurs like me. I am almost perfectly happy with how my blog looks. I have only two gripes. Firstly, I would love to have a feature in the Blogger.com interface that enables me to categorise my blog entries. This enables me to distinguish, say, blog entries on theology from blog entries on dogs (although in my world, the two are not necessarily distinguishable). Secondly, I would've loved to have my own domain (www.shermankuek.net) and sufficient web space to host all that I need to have on my blog. But thus far, it seems too expensive an enterprise.
2. On McDon-Al
Yesterday evening (since it's already wee hours of the morning now) I was seated for some two hours at a McDonald's restaurant in Singapore with a brother. Whilst he was busy blogging away on my Dell Inspiron 700M (because McDonald's restaurants in Singapore have WiFi facilities), I couldn't help eavesdropping on a major conversation that was taking place between a teenage boy and a teenage girl across our table. I obviously have no idea who they are, so I will herein call the boy "Al" and the the girl "Gal".
Al was spending those couple of hours - and I emphasise here, loudly and clearly, so it's understood that my eavesdropping was entirely involuntary - complaining to Gal about how he had simply lost the desire to attend church any longer. He was explaining that he had already left church for some weeks now, and everyone there would most likely be thinking that he had backslidden. However, he saw no point in going back to church because everyone was so fake. It also disappointed him that his leaders were often trying to "use" him to the advantage of the church and would not let him rest from burdensome responsibilities. I suppose he wanted to just be left alone to love God in peace.
This conversation sounded too familiar for me to lay back without desiring to respond in any way. At the spur of the moment, there was a surge in my adrenalin supply, and I was at the verge of walking across the table to shake his hand and say "Look here man, I understand your problem, so let me help you..." But then a staggering voice from within my heart invalidated my intentions when it said "What makes you think you have the solution? Last I heard, you were part of the problem."
As painful as it was, I had no right to offer help. I headed home. Rightly or wrongly.
But I will pray for Al tonight. Lord, direct him in your way.
And I will pray for myself. Kyrie eleison.
There exist two kinds of Christian suffering:
The first kind of suffering is epitomised by those who voluntarily embrace it as a spiritual virtue. Such voluntary suffering is a natural outcome of one’s recognition of the radical difference in godly values as opposed to self-centred human values, and one’s consequent ambition to pursue a life characterised by such godly values. To think and to live God’s way invites ridicule and insult (and sometimes, more than that). The voluntary sufferer, in submitting to the reign of God in his life, also invites upon himself or herself the sufferings that befell God. Yes, God suffered.
The second kind of suffering is that which occurs as a natural consequence of one’s less-than-perfect state of existence. It is most often found in situations of sickness, loss and deprivation. It is true that the search for reason in human suffering has never been entirely resolved by philosophical ventures. And yet, the story of God’s people has demonstrated time and again that many such sufferers have found their experiences to have enforced such a great sense of their own helpless inability, and as a result, have turned their hearts intimately towards the things of God. In their struggle to make meaning out of their suffering, they make space within their lives for a redefinition of “meaning” itself in accordance with divine design.
There is a subtly unspoken but strongly redemptive value in suffering. Suffering presents the prospect of redeeming man to God. It reminds man of the reality of his own fragility and his inability to sustain himself. Suffering breaks the will of man and enforces the will of God. It reminds man that it is God who actively sustains the order of all creation every minute of every day. It shifts the human person from an addiction to self-defined freedom towards a freedom to depend on the Author of all life. It accords the man the freedom to live in a desirable attitude of brokenness.
Suffering also connects the human experience with the reality of Christ’s suffering. To suffer because Christ suffered is to be like the Christ who suffered. In expressing the suffering of Christ in one’s own life, one also connects with the sufferings of his fellow human persons. To suffer as Christ did is to authentically present our humanness to the world, and in so doing, to prevent the lie that following Christ abruptly causes the madness of human imperfection to cease.
If there is one language that speaks universally to human persons of every tribe and tongue, it is the language of suffering. It is strange what suffering begets. It produces an intense pain that possesses the potential to minister healing to a hurting world. It is to do for the world that which God did for us.
Or rather, it is to do together with the world what God did together with us.
In fact, sacrifice is most powerful when it becomes so much an innate expression of ourselves that it can no longer be contained within a specific event. It is most powerful when sacrifice itself is no longer obvious, this being so by virtue of a person's life being rendered synonymous with sacrifice itself, such that the person and his sacrificial life can no longer be distinguished one from the other.
In other words, our spiritual journey must progress from that of giving on identifiably isolated occasions to that of living our lives as a constant offering to God and to our neighbours.
But sacrifice is the enterprise of a fool. For it is only the fool who renders himself for the advantage of others, at his own expense. And only the greater fool offers of his resources for the happiness of his neighbours, only to have himself experience a greater happiness derived from the joy of offering. Sacrifice is surely not the way of the world.
Sacrifice is an outward expression of an inward self-denial. In denying the self, we are not hating ourselves, but rather, loving ourselves as people whose offerings are worthy of God and our neighbours. And yet, this love is a self-giving and self-offering love. It extends itself towards the welfare of the Kingdom of God. We offer ourselves for the sake of the Kingdom of God, even to the extent of being exploited.
But when is it morally wrong to allow one's self to be exploited? When the exploitation is against the interest of the exploiter. The benchmark for morality is never the self. As far as it serves the moral and spiritual welfare of our neighbours (and therefore, the cause of the Kingdom), we must avail ourselves to be exploited as offerings to the world and for the Lord. However, such exploitation must cease when instead of serving, it becomes detrimental to the moral and spiritual welfare of our neighbours and the Kingdom of God.
Jesus lived his life as an offering for all. His sacrifice did not begin at the cross, although it culminated there. His sacrifice began at his birth as an infant, from whence he offered his all for those who would exploit his love and goodness. Every minute of every second, his life was an offering, a divinely appointed sacrifice. Jesus was the ultimate fool who would not only present an offering, but who would also make himself the offering. He was God's own fool.
Where is the wise?
And yet, one must not - in one’s preoccupation with simplicity itself - be consumed by one’s fixation on simplicity itself. Simplicity must never be an end in itself. It must be embraced for a higher purpose, which is that of connecting with God and one’s neighbours by way of the extended time and space afforded from the cultivation of simplicity itself. The simplicity of the uncluttered life releases us to live as an offering to God and to our neighbours.
It is herein that the Christian interpretation of simplicity is most distinct. Simplicity is, to us, a virtue not because the uncluttered life benefits ourselves (for the self must never constitute the primary motivation for any endeavour in the Christian life). It is a virtue because it cultivates an attitude of divine connection and because it benefits our neighbours.
Simplicity is not about retreating or withdrawing from the currents of societal order. Whilst we are not of the world, we must never live as though we were not also in the world. Hence, the Christian life requires that one lives in active engagement by journeying with the world to discover a better way to live. It is not material possessions themselves, but rather, the desire for and the fixation upon these possessions that clutter our lives. Simplicity is about a withdrawal from this desire whilst still maintaining responsible stewardship of these possessions such that they are exploited solely for the good of the
Simplicity ceases to be a virtue when one cultivates it simply for the purpose of self-release as the primary end. When (in embracing simplicity) one’s life ceases to be an offering to God and to the world, simplicity no longer constitutes a virtue; it is thereafter translated into a self-centred enterprise although its visible expressions may look invariantly similar.
This is the way of Christ, our Master and Lord, who himself is the Way: He embraced simplicity for the sake of God and for the world. He emptied himself and embraced the uncluttered life, and we are thus called to do likewise.
A slightly painful surgery indeed (which surgery isn't?), but necessary for the prevention of irresponsible breeding and also for the prevention of mammary tumour during the doggy's later stage of her life cycle. Basically, to help her to remain a happy doggie for as long as she lives.
She is now recuperating at home, and will take about five days to recover.For my dear friend who has requested to see doggy pictures, here's one of Carissa's for you!
People seek authentic relationships before they seek truth. If you desire to communicate truth, then you must first of all be an agent of authentic and sacrificial relationships.
But there are certainly other aspects of life I spend time exploring. For example, I have been exploring the intriguing world of monastic orders (even visited one in Rome and stayed there for a while). So I guess I am more than just a tech junkie...I'm a tech-monkey.
P.S. Oh...oh...and read this. Lord, have mercy on me, the unrepentant sinner. (**Beats chest**)
During the conference, participants were asked to congregate in the plaza for a photo-taking session. And so the photographer went "Everyone say 'ES...chatology'!" And snap snap snap!
As all this was going on, I told myself, "I need a camera. Something that is good and small enough for me to want to carry it with me everywhere I go." So yesterday evening, I went to an IT Mall with my buddy, and this was the result:
Konika Minolta Dimage X60
(Click on link to get jealous.)
The financial damage from the "dimage" is depressing. Other than that...oh well...ESchatology!
I have just completed a round of conference on Church and Society in which a series of academic papers were presented.
...predictable...
...politically correct...
...non-provocative...
...superficial positivism...
...hidden agenda...
...evasive...
Well, what's new. Politics is rampant even in the academia. That about says it all, I guess. So much for the sincere pursuit of knowledge.
I suppose I said these things more for myself than for anyone else. But I would certainly invite listeners who may deem these murmurs of a novice worth their hearing. Perhaps, in the process, I will myself be confronted with my own ignorance on matters pertaining to the reading of my own culture and context.
One thing that I have hoped to drive across in this brief treatise is the imperative of the Christian responsibility to read our respective cultures and contexts. Whilst it is easy to settle on the merry end of neat categories and secure propositions, such a stand also assumes that we already know the heart and mind of God in whole (or at least, sufficiently). I wouldn't dare assume that myself.
I see myself - like the Buddhist, the Muslim, the Hindu, the Taoist, and even the professing atheist (all of whom co-exist with me in my local context) - as being on a journey towards knowing my Creator. In the midst of this search, Jesus found me, and for that I am eternally grateful. In Christ's confrontation, I have already been confronted by the very Person who is, himself, TRUTH. And beyond all humanly crafted truth propositions (much of which I do embrace), my deepest desire is to know him. I turn to Christ. I confess Christ.
Hence, whilst I do hold on to much of Western propositions in regard to my faith, it is not my intention to confront anyone with these propositions. All I would like for my life to be is an invitation for others to share in my life journey, so that they too may meet with the Christ who came to meet me. If I am able to cultivate an understanding of my life as a sacrament of Christ, then those who meet me meet Christ, and those who touch me touch Christ.
I realise that this approach is a radical adventure, because it is entirely different from the kind of fossilised gospel that has been passed down to me. It presents dangers that go beyond predictable proportions. But to start with, what decision could be more dangerous than that of following Jesus? Since I have made that decision to follow Christ, I might as well persist with utmost integrity in this path that is "paved with good intentions" and maybe "littered with broken dreams" (to quote a song I once heard).
I believe that if I am able to understand the role of the Christian community (the Church) as a traditioning body and a historical entity, my efforts for re-construction will not pander to deviance. These efforts will, rather, refresh the meaning of much of our tradition that has been drowned in the sea of forgetful oblivion.
I am still on the subject of theological language and categories. Thus far, it should be apparent that my problem-definition has been socio-historical in nature. My reason for this is that postmodernity in the West has been spoken of in like manner, and the starting point of my entire thought process was this very Western discourse at both the theological and the popular levels. Whilst I have demonstrated (perhaps far too inadequately) that postmodernity is not a relevant problem for
a. Life consists of multi-factorial considerations. To assume a mono-factorial socio-political consideration is naïve. There are certainly other factors that come into play when attempting to construct a third way. For example, the Asian people – beyond their socio-political consciousness – are primarily and innately religious people. Their senses pertaining to the “transcendental other” is strong. Furthermore, religions in
b. Western theology is not entirely undesirable. To rest my critique solely on Western theological “failure” is to be terribly disrespectful and ungrateful of the positive contributions of the
Therefore, I am suggesting that our construction of an Asian theological language must take in account various other considerations. Very briefly, they are:
i. Asian religious traditions. This means that we must somehow embrace a mechanism that enables us to examine the various worldviews co-existing with Asian Christianity. Examples of this are the Muslim concept of monotheism, the Hindu concept of karma, the Buddhist concept of enlightenment, the Taoist concept of the yin and yang, and the Confucian concept of social order and communal obligation. Fundamental to any socio-political and historical realities such as colonialism, the primary characteristic of Asians is our religious inclination. Perhaps, our inquiry may consequently yield more points of resonance with these religious worldviews that we have thus far cared to discover.
ii. The Great Tradition. May we not forget that Western Protestant theology constitutes a mere segment of the theology of the Church Universal. Other theological languages and categories are to be found in the traditions of the Eastern Orthodox Church and the Roman Catholic Church. Whilst acknowledging the weaknesses of Protestant theology, we have a wider and longer heritage upon which to fall back to derive a richer Asian theological language. To conjure an Asian theological language that demonstrates no continuity from our faith in ages past is at best a dangerous enterprise, and at worst, potentially heretical. The element of "connectivity" and "rootedness" cannot be compromised. All these various streams of theological language and categories need to be examined and embraced to form what some scholars have come to know as The Great Tradition. It is herein that a generous orthodoxy possesses the potential to be embodied at its best.
These are just two major building blocks that will probably take us another several decades (or even centuries!) to handle proficiently before emerging with an authentic Asian theology. This process of mastery will undoubtedly involve arduous deconstructions and constructions at various levels.
I am not talking about a simple repackaging of the Western gospel to give it an Asian face. If theology is the language of the Christian community, then Western theology (with all its rationally constructed categories) is the language of the Western Christian community. If so, I am in effect proposing the construction of a theological language that emerges from the Asian Christian community.
The problem however lies in the historical reality that we have, in the course of history, inherited the theological language of the West. Hence, a vigorous deconstruction of this Western theological legacy needs to precede the construction of the proposed Asian theological language. (The word “deconstruction” is not to be taken as being synonymous with “destruction”. In employing the former word, I am referring to the critical re-examination of the Western theology that we have inherited, which can hopefully be followed by the necessary move away from and towards a variant direction that