Picture: Billy Graham Crusade, Minneapolis, 1996

1. Re-Examining Our Evangelistic Paradigm
It has historically been innate within the Evangelical sensibilities to be preoccupied with issues of salvation, the gospel, evangelism, and the mission of the church. This has been a major (if not the main) reason for the exponential growth in the size of the Evangelical church worldwide. This observation includes the ecclesiastical reality in the Asian continent.

Alas, it is also a reality (at least in the eyes of our critiques) that much of our evangelism and the propagation of the gospel has been undertaken in ways that often compromises the dignity of equality in human relationships. Our cultivation of relationships has often been primarily for the purpose of leading others to embrace the faith. In the process of gospelising others, we forget the respect that our gospel inherently stands for towards human dignity and the sanctity of human relationships in themselves.

Our evangelistic efforts, whilst emanating from noble intentions, has often ignored the primacy of relationship for the sake of itself. The cultivation of relationships are now seen as being instrumental for the religious conversion of our neighbours. The observant unbeliever is repelled by what he perceives to be relationships with Christians who have hidden agendas. Our aggressive propogation of a propositional gospel coupled with a lack of relational embodiment causes people to be repelled, no matter how well-meaning our intentions.

Hence, we need to recover the value of human relationality for the sake of itself. Such relationality cannot be employed as an instrument for evangelism, because it would diminish the dignity of our fellow neighbours. We need to simply learn to embody the gospel in our communal life as a different Kingdom, and to radically love the world in the Spirit of Jesus Christ. This would create open communities in which space is made for honest questions to be asked in the life journey of our neighbours.

In the process of such rethinking, it would also mean that we need to re-examine our long-standing preoccupation with mass conversions and numerical growth. This is not to say that mass conversions and numerical growth are undesirable in themselves. It is simply that the pursuit of these ends in themselves compromises the heart and the fundamental message of the gospel.

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The contents of this post is a reply to Irene's letter:
God As Friend

Dear Irene,

See lah, you've now interrupted me just as I'm about to embark on my new series of blog entries. So much for good timing. Anyway, it's a good thing you're replying now, as I'm going to hit the road again soon! And no, I'm not enjoying myself with all this travelling. Be my guest; quick go to seminary for your MDiv and take my place so I can retire. Hahah.

Was I redefining what it means to be a Christian? Yes and no.

"Yes" (I'm redefining what it means to be a Christian) because I think somewhere along the way, we've overly emphasised "holiness" in the Christian life and understood it as sinning as little as possible so that we don't offend God. We keep thinking that God's eyes are on sin, and the eyes of the celestial policeman are prowling in search of sin so he can pounce on the offender. We forget that sin offends God only because it severs friendship with him. The point is, God's eyes are on friendship, not on sin! Sin is the thing that gets in the way of our friendship with him, that's why it grieves him.

"No" (I'm not redefining what it means to be a Christian) because the Christians in early church called themselves "friends of God" besides "followers of the Way", "Christians", and a host of other names. Also, if you've heard about the Quaker movement that existed sometime throughout the history of the church, you'd know that they called themselves The Religious Society of Friends. I'm therefore not saying something entirely new and unrooted in our historical faith.

So in a way, I am redefining what it means to be Christian; but in another way, I am simply recovering what I think has been lost in our Evangelical preoccupation with sin and repentance. I sincerely think God sees these dimensions of the Christian life in a very different way from what we tend to imagine of have been taught all throughout our formative years as Christians.

But it is true indeed that friendship with God is more than merely about whether God will grant us the desires of our hearts. There are times when he does and there are times when he doesn't. Nothwithstanding, God is our Friend. Actually, more than that, he is The Friend. On this account, we know that he will always make decisions that are in the best of our interest. But of course, this is also subject to how we define "our interests". Because this Friend of ours has concerns that are far larger than we do, and he has a view that's far wider than we can see. What seems good and just to us now may not be so in accordance with his larger concerns and wider view.

In this regard, I think it's useful for me to highlight that dimension of our faith in him that's relational and not merely propositional. If our faith was simply propositional, then we would try to figure out the most logically viable way to explain why God can be trusted as The Friend. But the very fact of the relationality of his friendship with us necessitates us to be willing to trust him just because we have a relationship with him. Just like when Jesus said to his disciplies "If you love me, you will do what I say"... what kind of logic is there in this? None. At all. Just because you love a person doesn't logically lead to your having to do what he says. But this isn't a propositional demand; it's a relational demand... on this account, the demand makes sense. Hence, the same "rule" applies: trust God, The Friend, not because you can reason out why he'd always work in the best of your interest, but because you love him. Your relationship with him permits for you to know intuitively that you can trust him wholly.

"Trust in my Father, trust also in me."

It makes sense to trust that he has your best interest at heart only when you trust that you have a friendship with him. Beyond that, no human logic or profound philosophy can justify our attempts to trust; because no philosophical justification is ever good enough to justify abandoning yourself into the hands of an unseen Friend. Can we trust?

To friendship!
Sherman

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Picture: Billy Graham Crusade, Minneapolis, 1996

The Evangelical movement has historically been responsible for battling against doctrinal dangers that threatened the authenticity of the Christian faith. The term "evangelical" originates from the Greek word euanggelion, meaning "the good news" or "the gospel". This word found its original usage in Martin Luther's Reformation, duringwhich he employed this term as a name for his breakaway movement (evangelische kirke or "Evangelical Church"). This name is still applied to the Lutheran Church in Germany.

In the English-speaking world and in Asia, Evangelicalism has largely been taken to refer to a series of revivals that was experienced in the North Atlantic Anglo-American world in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It also refers to the era when a significant segment of the church reacted against the rise of liberal theology.

For some time in the twentieth century, Evangelicalism was very much characterised by fundamentalism as a result of its intimidation towards liberalism. Although this rigidity in doctrinal positions was eventually broken by Billy Graham and several other Evangelical personalities, a sense of static rigidity largely remained. As it stands today, Evangelicalism is still well committed to retaining a high view of scripture, evangelism and conversion.

What follows is a series of blog entries on my observation of prospects for the Evangelical movement in Asia. The main thrust of this series of blog entries is that the Evangelical movement worldwide is now on the brink of a serious crisis, and this includes Evangelical Christianity in my Asian context. It is a crisis that may lead to an eventual bankruptcy. In the light of this crisis, there are a number of issues that I deem to be of severe importance which need to be examined.

The following points need to be noted as I embark on the writing of this series:

1. I speak as an insider. I am not simply unduly critical of this tradition to which I'm committed. In articulating its weaknesses and it prospects, I am thereby availing myself to be the change that I seek (to quote the words of Mahatma Ghandi - I know, he wasn't an Evangelical Christian; but this is precisely where I seek generosity beyond what is presently expressed in Evangelical theology!)

2. I speak as one who has received colonial imports of Evangelical Christianity. Much of Evangelical Christianity in the Asian Church is characterised by the Western fundamentalism that we observe. This was perhaps legitimate because of the era duringwhich liberal Christianity also penetrated the ecclesiastical context of Asia. But as Christianity in Asia stands today, Evangelicalism by and large no longer faces this threat. The challenge ahead is then one of asking ourselves what it means to be Asian Evangelical Christians. For this, we must move beyond simplistic "Evangelical" and "liberal" categories. In the past, being Evangelical would mean receiving in totality the framework of faith propositions from Western Evangelicalism. It is now crucial to recognise that one can be truly authentic to one's Asian roots and yet still be Evangelical in the sense of being orthodox in one's theology. In this sense, I am speaking about being post-colonial in our theological approach.

3. I speak as a "broader" Evangelical. The view of Evangelicalism can be so narrow as to identify anything unfamiliar as being "liberal". For this reason, I have not always found it useful to identify myself as an Evangelical and would rather retain the description of "orthodoxy". But since my writing here pertains to the Evangelical shifts that I deem are necessary for us to be truly "Evangelical" the way I believe it should be, I would readily identify with the term.

These thoughts which will be hereafter presented are, in large part, a result of my personal observations which I deem to have been confirmed in my recent participation in the Sixth Asia Lausanne Conference on Evangelism (ALCOE VI) held in Laguna, Philippines. It is legitimate to assume that such an event consisting of major leaders in the Church in Asia would be well representative of the state of Evangelicalism in Asia today. However, these expressed observations are not to be taken as necessarily being in direct reference to the Conference itself. The Conference in itself was a confirmation of some thoughts already present and a catalyst for further thinking.

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Sixth Asia Lausanne Conference on Evangelism 2006
"A New Heart for the Evangelization of Asia"

I'm back from the 5-day stint in Laguna, Philippines. It was splendid. I don't think I heard any cutting-edge papers being presented in this conference. It was merely a reiteration of the reality of Asia having the vast majority of unreached people groups, and the need for the reign of God to be proclaimed to these friends. And yet it was splendid.

It was splendid to see 150 key leaders of the Church in Asia (bishops, missiologists and Asian theologians, mission agency leaders, etc) representing 20 countries in this congregation. It was splendid to hear them sing and speak in different languages. It was a beautiful experience to watch the way in which deep generosity was expressed in the way we accepted the differences in one another's cultures and spiritual traditional expressions. This was most apparently exhibited when a pentecostal grassroots preacher was invited to speak before the audience which consisted of many theological academicians; the spirit of acceptance and forebearance was deeply moving. This was where the real beauty of the event lay; not so much in the tabling of academic missiological papers, but in the congregating of hearts and lives that find their existence and passion in the heartbeat of God.

The flight from Changi International Airport (Singapore) to Ninoy Aquino International Airport (Manila) took three hours. From the airport in Manila, a fleet of vans was present to transport us to the Caliraya Recreation Center in Lumban, Laguna, which took another three hours of travel. My bishop very kindly extended this invitation for me to participate in ALCOE VI with a flight ticket thrown in from his frequent flyer points. I was also sent to this event with my registration fee and lodging expenses fully paid by friends from my local faith community. I'm deeply grateful for such generosity.

This event, although being focused on evangelism, largely reflected the state of the evangelical tradition in Asia today (since it was a congregation of very prominent Asian church leaders). It has therefore provoked some very crucial reflections for me, which I will be blogging about in my new series called Evangelical Shifts. For obvious reasons, it wasn't appropriate to discuss some crises points of evangelicalism in a conference that was focused on evangelism. But this also means that further thought has to be put into these issues beyond ALCOE VI. There is much I will subsequently have to say in my new series of blog entries about the state of evangelicalism in Asia today. These thoughts were certainly provoked by my observations throughout ALCOE VI, but have no particular reference to and should not be taken to refer specifically to that event itself.

Photographs taken from this trip are posted here.

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Everyone's going to blog on this soon, so let be me one of the first! I've gone to watch The DaVinci Code. And I didn't like it. Bummer.

With the way it was so hyped up - ironically, by many local churches and Christian ministries all around the region - I'd have expected a very convincing screening of the story that would shake the faith of millions of Christians to the core. But I found no such thing in the movie. It's most likely because I didn't read the book. And I'll bet most of the viewers won't have read it either. Anyway, I came out of the movie thinking through the entire reconstructed story about Jesus having a lineage of descendents birthed through Mary Magdalene and stuff, and concluded with the question, "So?"

I mean, why should such stories compel anyone's faith to be shaken? Anyone can take the characters from any historical event and fabricate an entirely new story. After all, look at Gladiators... no one came out of that movie pointing out how that story was a twisted version of the historical reality and all. It was seen as something fictional, even if the movie was filmed as though it was something real.

As a movie itself, I found The DaVinci Code boring, long-winded, and complicated. The genre felt more like that of National Treasure, minus the excitement. I also think that non-Christians and even most Protestant Christians would have a problem trying to understand the whole issue with Opus Dei in the movie, which was Dan Brown's rendition of the terribly warped perception that many have towards this Roman Catholic Order. Even a simple joke like the final remaining descendent of Jesus trying to test if she could walk on water didn't manage to provoke the slightest giggle from the audience.

I guess what I'm saying is, I don't see how this story / movie is a threat to the Christian faith at all. Could we perhaps have fallen for the gimmicks of the marketing experts by having contributed to the elevation of hype among Christians? We've probably done a better job at publicising The DaVinci Code than the marketing agencies have. All this hype we've given to the movie prior to its release sure is making someone rich.

At any rate, give me the following other movies to watch and stories to read, which I find more meaningful: 1) Harry Potter - an epitome of missional friendship; 2) X-Men - a hyperbolic reality of the dilemma of human insecurity; 3) Star Wars - a lesson in Kingdomic paradigm.

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One of my students entered my office this evening to help me translate something from a Burmese tribal language into English. When the work was done, we sat down for a chat. Naturally, our conversation drifted into a discussion on his academic paper (besides other things). So something funny ensued...

He told me that this paper had altered his perception of scripture. In his denomination, he said, tradition is held in contempt. They believe in scripture and scripture alone. It was hilarious, the way he said "I was soooo surprised when I realised that scripture itself is a form of tradition!"

It boils down a lot to perception. Some hold scripture to be a dogmatic list of dos and don'ts, whilst some others hold scripture to simply be the story of God captured in written form. Some see scripture to be predominantly prescriptive, whilst others hold scripture to be simply descriptive. Of course, we're neither arguing for the total compatibility nor the mutual exclusiveness of both perceptive posibilities.

But the point made here is simply that we cannot escape the reality of perception. Some will fight to defend the validity of their perceptions and even lose a friend or two in the course of the fight. For me, such differences in perceptions simply attest to the mosaic of possibilities that characterises the richness of the Christian tradition.

**chuckle...**

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I'm back! It's been a horrendously hectic weekend, but the weekend itself wasn't horrendous at all, if you get what I mean. On Sunday morning, I preached in a Presbyterian Church (Gereja Grace Batu Pahat) in a little town down south called Batu Pahat, and managed to catch up with a dear friend and to meet a number of new friends. Since it was Mothers' Day, I spoke on the "motherhood of God" (well yeah, as always, I had some eyesbrows raised... but those eyebrows soon settled into their original positions when they heard my explanation, hahah). On Monday morning, I went to Singapore for some other appointments. And today, I'm back in Seremban.

But I'll be here for only three full days before I hit the road again. This Sunday, I'll be preaching in another Presbyterian Church (Hebron Presbyterian Church) in Johor Bahru before I enter Singapore again. On Monday morning, I'll be departing from Changi Airport for the ALCOE VI which is held in the Philippines. Will be away for five days, afterwhich I must be back in time for another speaking engagement in a Lutheran church (BLC) in Kuala Lumpur.

So what's going through my mind as I keep up with this pace? Two things. Firstly, I think this is all good and meaningful as long as it's done in the company of friends. I've developed a disdain for a "public" ministry that rests on a reputation (which I don't have anyway). Half the time, it feels like people are holding me in high regard based on things about me that they don't really know. As far as I'm concerned, ministry is all about friendship... ministering to friends and being ministered to by friends.

Secondly, it feels strange saying this, but it's been ages since I've missed my own local church community when I'm on the run. For as long as I can remember, my ministerial activity has been itinerantly mobile. Thus, I've never been able to develop really intimate relationships with my own local church. Neither did they seem very keen on such communal relationships. But since I moved to Seremban and participated in the life of the local church here, this community has become so much a part of my family. We actually miss them when we're away. Hence, whilst our minds have been very focused on our work away from home, our hearts have been very much with our local church community. And we were talking a lot about "our church" throughout our journey. This feels strange because I've hardly met people with such attachments in recent times, let alone experience it myself. But it's happening. It's beautiful when there's organic life behind and beyond the institution itself.

Busy days ahead. The little that has been entrusted to me has to be fulfilled to the best of my ability. And as I keep pace with the goals set before me, I must remember: this is a journey to Christ, with Christ, and for Christ.

Posted by SK at 04:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

The contents of this post is a reply to Irene's letter:
No Friendship Without Vulnerability

Dear Irene,

I know as I reply this letter of yours, that you're at some mountain somewhere in Borneo or something like that. While you're there, don't forget Sherman on the Mount! I love mountains; they always bring me into a strange state of reflective nostalgia about life. There's a tranquility about mountains that calms the soul and brings a sense of depth into our fragile lives; well, at least for me. Having said that, don't forget to come back.

Such a timely moment to discuss the issue of vulnerability. In the past week or so, I've had a renewed lesson and challenge in relational vulnerability. I had a problem with someone whom I perceived to be a friend (admittedly, I didn't know this person very well, to begin with). The point is, at the initial stage of our friendship, I chose to disclose myself in vulnerability by revealing certain things about my life, my story, my struggles, etc. Next thing I knew, this person had started listening to gossips about me and had started using against me information that I had disclosed about myself. How's that for an opening story in a discussion on vulnerability?

This wasn't the first time such a thing had happened to me. But despite this, I still maintain that vulnerability is necessary in friendship. This may sound rather dogmatic, but I believe that the only way to walk into a trinitarian friendship is to walk into it with no holds barred - total vulnerability. I'm not speaking as one who's already achieved it, but rather, as one who's still learning what it means for myself. But just as Jesus embraced Judas Iscariot in vulnerable friendship - allowing the one who'd eventually betray him to live with him and to handle the finances of the community - we too are called to embrace that kind of vulnerability towards all the potential Judases in our lives. Yeah, scary.

Essentially, this is what a God-ordained friendship is about. It's about not seeking to preserve or protect ourselves. It's about walking into a potentially hurtful relationship that may cause us to be at the losing end. It's about a willingness to be the foolish one; the loser. How painful it must've been for our Lord. And yet, the more I come to think of it, the more I can't help but ask myself how many times I've - intentionally or otherwise - been a Judas to others who have walked in vulnerability towards me.

Each hurtful situation I find myself in should only serve as a reminder for me that I've done this to my friends and to the Friend of all friends countless times. It should also serve as a challenge to be, increasingly, reflective of the Friend of whom I'm a friend.

Vulnerability is a principle that's difficult to embrace because we perceive ourselves as living in a dog-eat-dog world wherein people are waiting to devour one another. And if we don't preserve ourselves, who will, right? But perhaps it may be a little easier if we start learning to perceive this world as consisting of people who're merely living their lives in the best way they know how, trying to survive emotionally. And perhaps walking in vulnerability is our way of identifying with the human dilemma, the human struggle. It's the way of a friend.

Having said that, it's difficult. But let's keep trying and not stop dreaming, even if it means we'll be betrayed and brought to places where we'll receive emotional lashings, one after another. May God give us the grace to keep dreaming.

Ei, when are you coming back?!

To friendship!
Sherman

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Gospel of Salvation: Salvation is an event. Getting people to say the sinner's prayer and become conforming churchgoers. Evangelistic crusades and rallies. Door-to-door evangelism. Church buildings and cathedrals and auditoriums. Programmes. Activities. Truth is a set of propositions. Street evangelism. Altar calls. Fragmented. Other-worldly and disconnected from present realities. Salvation for human souls. People come to the church. Sees the church against the world. Control. The bible is all that matters. Black and white. Salvation for getting into heaven. Deficient.

Gospel of the Kingdom: Salvation is a process. Friendship. Community. Relationships. Inspiring people to live the life of the Kingdom. Holistic. Both this-worldly and other-worldly. People. Salvation for all of creation. Incarnational embodiment. Salvation for establishing the Kingdom of God. Generous. Truth is a person. Jesus is all that matters. Sees the church as a friend of the world. Facilitation and freedom. The church goes to the world. Black, white and often fuzzy. The Gospel of Christ.

Posted by SK at 12:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (10) | TrackBacks (0)

Confronted by mortality. It's easier to live this life as if there is nothing beyond it. Whilst we may be acknowledging "the world beyond", many choose to live in practical denial that there's an eternity.

I think I can understand why. The realities of this world are the only things we're familiar with. This world is where our existence found its being. To entertain the possibility of another reality, another world, threatens our perspectival response towards our existential struggles.

But some realities of the present world order summon us to acknowledge the fact of human mortality. Structural evil expressed within political and social systems, pain and suffering, catastrophe, and the cessation of the human life; these provoke our senses to acknowledge reality. Then perhaps somewhere in the recesses of our consciousness, we will be able to find the whisper of a hope. A future hope in which all perfection of life is to be restored in its glorious beauty.

But if this hope is real, then it demands that we no longer live in practical denial. All of life as we know it will have to be redefined in its expression, for our knowing the end necessitates a different mode of living in the here-and-now.

Life is a preparation for death. And death - for the follower of Jesus Christ - is the perpetuation of eternal friendship with God. What a manner of hope. O death, where is your sting?

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Faithful One...

Merciful One...

Gracious One...

Unchanging One...

Let everything you are that I'm not blow away everything I am that you're not. Then will I ever be truly in you and you in me.

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The other day, I was chatting with a friend and we humourously drifted into a mimicking of the way altar calls are made by well-known and famous preachers prevalent in "evangelical" circles today:

Now, every eye closed and every head bowed, no one looking around. If you know in your heart that God loves you as you are, and you want to give your heart to Jesus tonight, lift up your right hand quickly and put it down again. No one is looking... (Preacher thinks to himself: Of course, deep in my heart, I know the ushers at the back are keeping an eagle eye so that they can pull you out to the front later).

Thank you, I see that hand! Yes brother, I see your hand!

Nobody is looking around... but that doesn't matter, because if you were one of those who just put your hands up, would you come to the front so that we can pray for you? Would you make a stand and come up to the front from wherever you are, even in the balcony and the overflow room... just make your way to the front, quickly and quietly. We're all here to pray for you.

Yes, everyone give these precious people a hand of encouragement. The Spirit of God is moving here today, I tell you, all across this auditorium from the left to the right, from the front all the way to the back. Hallelujah, give Jesus a big hand! (And music starts climaxing... and we start singing a song beginning at the chorus... people start weeping. And a little voice inside the preacher says "Darn, I'm good.")

Nothing in particular to say about this. No... I do have a lot to say about it, actually. But I'm really tired after a 5-hour video recording today, so I can't think that much. But I have been wondering about altar calls and stuff like this... where did it come from?!

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The contents of this post is a reply to Irene's letter:
Friendship Keeps No Record of Favours

Dear Irene,

Hey hey! T'was a great time at my church camp huh? The midnight hangouts and the waiting for almost an hour for your half boiled eggs to be be served and all. It's honestly been a long long while since I've attended a church camp simply as a participant. It's kinda refreshing to be given the space to be "like everyone else". Told you my church is a great church to be in. But so is yours... well, I must say this because your pastor reads my blog. *wink* Hahaha... knowing him, he'd be perfectly glad for you no matter which community you assimilated into. It's hard to meet someone as spiritually generous as him these days. Okay, if I say more nice stuff about him, he's going to start feeling like he owes me another lunch, so let's get back to the issue of our discussion.

I like this issue that you've recently brought up in your last letter. It's true that we often, as "civilised" Chinese people, practise the virtue of returning favours because we shouldn't remain in a state of "indebtedness" towards one another. There's almost something psychological about it (and perhaps sometimes almost to the point of being psychotic too, hahah).

The good thing about this practice is that it recognises the virtue of giving. But the very bad thing about this practice is that it ignores all together the virtue of receiving. Certainly, we're told in scripture that it's more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35) - oh look, Sherman has just quoted the bible! *naughty grin* But in a culture like ours wherein people value their self-worth and the presumptuous dignity of self-sufficiency, perhaps receiving should also be upheld as a virtue.

Giving, besides being a virtuous act of love, affirms one's functional worth and one's charitable sensibilities. But bringing one's self to receive from others is another challenge all together. It demands humility, for the one who receives is placed in the weaker position of need. He isn't exalted as a hero, because everyone's eyes are usually on the giver. It can therefore be utterly difficult for us to truly open our hearts to receive; because it threatens our sense of worth and adequacy.

I usually find myself having to reckon with this issue when I'm placed in a position or context of privilege (and I am usually placed in such positions). For example, within the context of the seminary wherein I teach, it's easy for me to see myself as the "giver" (and a very cheerful one at that). But I've had to examine much of my preconceived notions about giving and receiving. And I've realised that each "weaker person" within that community may not be able to offer me what I have to give them, but every one of them has something unique to offer.

And I've actually had to open my heart to learn to receive some very precious gifts from them, you know. It almost feels "wrong" at times because these gifts seem to be more taxing on the financial resources of these students than they would have taxed me. But they so treasure our friendship that they don't think too much about offering something of value. And then there are those other things that are of intangible value, for example, long shoulder massages when I'm looking tired and worn out!

And one final thing I don't want to miss pointing out is that by far, the most precious gift I've ever received from a friend is the sharing of his/her life story. You and I have been through this throughout our friendship, so you know what I mean. But when someone is willing to tell you his/her life story, the name of this gift being offered to you is "vulnerability". So some of the greatest gifts that I've received are simple life stories of simple friends who exist in a complex world. I've yet to come across one life story that hasn't impacted my own existence in any way.

Hence, in as much as we'd like to be givers, perhaps it's time for us to also cultivate the virtue of receiving in our friendships. Jesus received.

To friendship!
Sherman

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I'm a sinner. I've lived more than half of my life in helpless foolishness, trying to make sense of my bewildered life. Many people talk about the life of sin as if it's living in a state of deliberate offense towards God. It's not necessarily true. A sinner can be simply... well, lost. Just lost and trying to cope with life in the best way he knows how. And maybe waiting for the grace of God to turn up and grip him.

I don't even remember how I came to embrace a faith in Jesus Christ. It was as if things happened so naturally in my life that as I was going through the grind of existence, I was found by a Being that transcends all the meaning I was searching for in life. But being gripped by the grace of God doesn't mean becoming perfect overnight. It's a tedious journey of falling and rising and falling and rising, but with each step, moving closer towards the vision of the Kingdom.

As it stands today, I probably have more of a firsthand understanding of the human dilemma than the average man on the street. Maybe that's why it's a little easier for me to dispense grace to others in a world devoid of grace. Well, I don't do it perfectly, like I said. But I learn.

My constant resolve in life is to live with a clear conscience before my God. The wonderful thing is that it's not so much about living in rigid perfection. Rather, it's about wanting to walk in friendship with God. But walking in friendship with God necessitates that I live in some ways that seem very strange to the world. It often requires me to even walk into trouble, almost deliberately. Because when we walk in the Spirit of Christ, our values become alien to the values of the world. This walk often offends the sensibilities of other people; even those of fellow Christians, perhaps.

When you dance in a different step from the dance of the world, people don't quite know what to make out of you. Very often, you become a provocative source that draws out the insecurity from within them. What then do they do with you? They try to put you down in the most creatives ways possible. They research your history, they find the slightest faults with you, and take delight in pinning you down with a case to be held against you. Even the Christians who preach so much about grace don't truly seem to know what grace is supposed to look like when it's time for grace to be embodied. So they resort to punishing anyway.

This is, I suppose, what trying to live a life of practical holiness looks like in the real world. Being a friend of God is more than just about the pleasantness of the experience. It's about being challenged to walk in a certain direction even if it means running the risk of losing your life, your reputation, and your dignity for the sake of your friendship with God. It means deliberately walking into trouble when you have to.

He knows. He walked that path before.

Posted by SK at 02:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm presently still writing my doctoral thesis on Theology and Contemporary Culture. More specifically, I'm seeking to defend a sustained claim that the Asian Church is obligated to interact with a contextualised rendition of modernity that originated from colonial imperialistic activity but which has morphed into various contextualised modernities. This may sound like something bordering on postmodernity, although I've actually rather quickly dismissed (in my writing) the relevance of postmodernity for Asia. But that's besides the point.

The point is, I find that I'm now writing obsolete thoughts. I'm no longer as excited about what I'm now writing as I was when I first embarked on this project some years ago. When I first started, this entire train of thought was a profoundly new discovery for me. But the dilemma I face is that my intellectual growth has far exceeded the rate of my writing (I don't mean to say this in a lofty way - it's truly a dilemma). What used to excite me at the point of embarkation no longer excites me, because what I set out to resolve through this research has already been mentally resolved.

I've been assured of a publication upon completion. And I know that most doctoral graduates are extremely proud to have their theses published and read by many. But I'm not so sure if this is the case for me. I don't think I'd be proud to have a work published that doesn't truly reflect the present state of my intellectual position. So it's like I have it all at my fingertips, but it hardly means much to me.

So these are my thoughts at 6 o'clock in the morning regarding my research: Existentially, I have gained from this journey what I have set out to attain. So it's now simply about the degree itself, a pragmatic and functional commodity of life. Still, what has been started must be completed. Much has been invested by my scholarship providers who've so willingly believed (rightly or wrongly) in my ability to successfully complete this journey. I'm extremely grateful to them. I have more reasons to complete this project than to not complete it. So I clench my fist for a moment, then I flex my nuckles and keep typing away.

And at the back of my mind, a message keeps playing over and over again: an academic qualification doesn't make a person.

Posted by SK at 06:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBacks (0)

I've just been listening to a series of sermons on Ephesians in the past couple of days. In listening to this series of sermons, I somehow couldn't help but notice the following tenets being jarringly affirmed:

Total Inability / Total Depravity
Unconditional Election
Limited Atonement
Irresistible Grace
Perseverance of the Saints

It didn't take too long for me to realise that besides listening to an expository sermon on Ephesians, I was also sitting among a captive audience feasting on a lengthy treatise on Five-Point Calvinism. I may not necessarily agree or disagree with the contents of this theological framework; it's simply that I don't necessarily desire to speak about faith in such categories... at least not anymore, after having had a constant bombardment of it for almost twenty years.

Many people have heard enough about how depraved they are and how totally unable they are to "save themselves". Perhaps the last thing they need to hear is another reminder of how depraved they are. It's like whipping a carcass. Maybe they need to hear something fresh, like how depraved people like us can start living life for real in a depraved world. In reminding them about how they must be holy and sinless, we often forget how often they've tried and failed. Now they need some encouragement on how to live a mortal life. Christian but mortal.

Inasmuch as we'd often like to say "This is what the Apostle Paul says!", I'm often more inclined to think that this is what we think the Apostle Paul is saying. Just because we have employed careful exegetical methodology in our exposition of scripture does not necessarily mean that our explorations of scripture are all free of hermeneutical bias. If we're not wearing calvinistic lenses, then we're wearing some other lenses. It's just a matter of whether or not we care to acknowledge that we are in fact wearing hermeneutical lenses.

When I'm asked questions like "How are you sure you're saved?" or "How are you sure you're going to heaven?", I can only gawk foolishly. Because being saved isn't all that matters to me. Going to heaven isn't what I'm fixated on. Jesus is. I'm still trying to follow him in the best way I know how, and I'm still stumbling more often than I'd like to. I'm often a shame to my faith inasmuch as I try to be an embodiment of all that Jesus is. Go ahead and keep whipping me for repeated failure, but I'm already doing the best I can. And I'll keep trying. And am bound to keep failing. But at the end of the day, isn't it about knowing that I'll still keep trying anyway because I'm a friend of Christ and I want to be like him? Beyond that, I can only submit myself to the intriguing mystery of God that we call "grace".

As strange as this may sound, I often wonder if John Calvin was himself a Calvinist.

Posted by SK at 05:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)