As far as I can remember, there has never been one instance in my life as a minister when I didn't struggle with the church as an institution. I've never had an issue with the church as the Body of Christ, an organic entity. But the church as an institution is another issue all together.

People say that the church institution, after all, consists of people. The problem is, it consists of people who often lose their sense of balance in setting the interests of institutional policies against the wellbeing of their fellow neighbours. Policies and regulations are maintained for decades and centuries with no re-examination of their ability to serve the wellbeing of other fellow humans. At its worst, instead of the institution serving people, people are made to serve the institution... and this is where I unequivocally move away from institutional goals in my efforts to keep placing people's wellbeing above my possible institutional ambitions. Of course, it may often make one look waywardly anti-establishment.

While some argue that institutionalisation is necessary in order for the church to function in an orderly manner, we cannot ignore the reality of structural evil. We also cannot ignore the reality that people are often made to serve institutions at the expense of other people's wellbeing. And most church institutions have little or no self-critical mechanisms to put this right. Or rather, it's too much of an inconvenience to try to set things right. People say it's unfair to criticise institutions, since God still works through institutions. But perhaps it's more a case of God working despite institutions rather than working through institutions.

Institutionalisation represents the human need for control and regulation. It represents the human inclination to want to feel in charge. At which point of institutionalisation do we no longer deliberately acknowledge the lordship of the God we claim to serve? The boundaries are too subtle.

Sometimes, out of impatience, we deliberately create discord within the institution just so we can help God do his work more efficiently. It just doesn't work that way. God needs no help. But when God begins moving despite the institution, move along. So if you are one of those who have become disillusioned with the injustice of institutional churchlife, don't be angry at the way things are. God allows it to happen anyway because it's no threat of hindrance to his eternal purpose. He's the Head of the organic entity and no institution can thwart his purposeful plans for the wellbeing of all creation.

Remember, the Lord died for his church - the people - not for an institution. Mother Theresa said this about caring for your neighbours: "Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person". Because God works despite the institution.

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My "secret" is now leaked out in Two Becoming One!

Someone had to do it, I guess.

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Beauty finds its meaning and source in the uncaused beauty of the Creator himself. All good things come from God. And God desires to give us good gifts, for he is the loving Father and Creator of all. Unfortunately, this is where most of us stop in our understanding of the fatherheart of God.

This is the part we often miss out: God prepares us for the gifts he desires to give us. You see, that which God desires to offer us is often so magnificent and so wonderfully crafted that it takes an extraordinary capacity to receive these gifts. And just as the gift itself is magnificently crafted by its Creator, the receiver of the gift too must be magnificently prepared for the moment when he is ready to receive the gift in all its splendour.

Being nurtured by God's divine hand in order to possess the capacity to receive the magnitude of God's good gifts is a gradual - and often painful - progression. When we're so used to brokenness and shame, the path towards wholeness and righteousness is more narrow than it seems. But we must go through this in order that we are well prepared to receive the good gifts of God.

We often desire for God to make us better people, beautiful in every way. But we forget that the creation of beauty takes a miracle, and that miracle is called "pain". It is only he who possesses the capacity to embrace and transcend beyond the power of pain that truly is a beholder of an authentic beauty of the miraculous kind. In God's scheme of life-formation, pain is a necessity in the creation of beauty. (Sherman Kuek, October 2003)

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It's all rather amazing, how a little child has faith that can move mountains. He listens and believes and acts upon his belief. It's true that there are many grown ups who listen and believe and act upon their belief. But it's equally true that not all these represent the simple faith that Jesus speaks of. In the case of many, it's just a simplistic faith.

When simplicity of faith is not cultivated as a holistic virtue in our lives, what we have is a simplistic faith. The two are different even if they may bear a slight resemblance to each other. One is observable in a person's entire life expression, while the other is a delicate result of selective expression. A person who is simple in the faith abandons himself into the hands of God, whilst a person who is simplistic tries to show that he is abandoned into the hands of God when all along he's really still the one in control. It is naive and pretentious to expect one's self to be in control in other areas of one's life and yet to claim simplicity in obedience to God.

It takes the kind of deep spirituality that a child has in order to live a simple faith. Simplicity of faith isn't something that can be cultivated in a compartmentalised manner in our lives. You can't be simple in one area and then complex and sophisticated in another. It's strange how some adults are so sophisticated in their lifestyles and their handling of wealth, and then claim to be living a simple faith in their life journey. A child has a simple faith because he has nothing; he simply trusts.

Some people have gone too far to ever live a simple faith. They have too much.

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I've never thought there was anyone in this world I'd want to share my life with like this.

Sis tells me you're God's way of showing me he loves me... he created someone just for me.

She's right.

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The story of the good samaritan rang true to me today. I received help from someone who was different from me. He's a Muslim - yes, someone from the people we often associate with the terrorists. Well, he chipped in a very big favour to help save me from some "Christian terrorists" who're after my life. What an irony.

Jesus truly knew the deceitful inclinations of the human heart when he told this story. Some people take pride in how religious they are, how upright they are in observing the laws of God. And yet when the occasion calls for an exhibition of the abounding grace of God, they fail miserably to present the heart of God as it truly is.

And then, there are others whom we think are the "unsaved". We challenge their values and worldviews, thinking that ours reign supreme. And then at a moment like this, it is they who step out of their seats to rescue an injured man when his own people - in all their pharisaical righteousness - wouldn't even bother to assist in restoring him from his injury.

What an ironic world. If we think our theology has captured the reality of God in all its glory and that it's within our jurisdiction to relegate people to higher and lesser categories of worth because of the differences in our beliefs, maybe our theology is worthless. The good samaritan has found favour in the eyes of a God who knows the innermost motivations of the human heart.

It's about being truly human.

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You're doing something to me that no philosophy, no theory, no field of thought in all its splendour of abstraction has been able to do to me... you're making me feel. All throughout this life and faith journey, all these years, I've been fixated on how God must think and how we must think like him. Now you're driving me to experience how God must feel. You're driving me to a measure of vulnerability deeper than I could ever imagine I would experience.

I tread this path with deep fear and caution - not because of you - but because of what I might discover as you bring out the hidden sides of me. I can only hope and pray that these hidden sides reveal themselves to be as beautiful as the visible sides you have come to love.

I often wonder if perhaps God has given you to me not because I'm to be your pillar of strength, but rather, because you're chosen to be the bringer of strength into my life. But it's all rather illusive, you see, because you approach me with so much vulnerability and weakness. You seem so delicate that I fear I'll break you. But the miracle is that in seeking strength from me, I find myself being strengthened just enough to cover you.

With you, I feel both strong and weak at the same time. Perhaps this is reflective of just how our faith journey should be - approaching God and finding strength in weakness. Could it be that you and I are a symbiotic reflection of divine friendship?

For when I am weak, then I am strong.

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It's not difficult to believe cerebrally in the sovereignty of God when it costs nothing to profess that belief. It's when we are required to act upon that sovereignty - sometimes through what may seem like a passive absence of self-defence - that our deepest belief of that virtue we claim to profess is most tested.

It is when we're most confronted by our total inability to sustain ourselves and a trust in God himself becomes almost our sole means of subsistence that we can truly say, "My God, my sovereign Lord". Further to that, there's no telling how God delivers the one who trusts in him. Sometimes I tend to suspect that death can be a form of deliverance (with the exclusion of self-infliction, of course).

To believe in the sovereignty of God is most difficult if we do not believe in our total inability. Even when we are able, it's because the sovereignty of God enables us. Without a God so sovereign, his love means nothing. For a God whose love is worth depending on must be a God who possesses the capacity to also love sovereignly and express his love sovereignly.

Lord, I want to believe.

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You have known me from within the innermost core of my being. No motivation has been left unexamined, no desire left unyielded. Everything I've held dear has been turned towards you, and my life has been but an extension of your being.

And yet, they desire to devour me, to shred me, to ensure that I become no more. In seeking to be your defenders, they have become your enemies. You, O Lord, have been my strength and my shield. You have been my staff when my feet failed to withstand the weight on my back.

They who judge me and who condemn my failures will themselves drink the cup of judgement. For in trying to kill sin, they martyred a redeemed sinner; your precious servant. But you have been my shield, and you will be my defender.

You have given me life, and only you have the power to take it away. To God the Almighty, the King of creation, to whom all must bow, be the glory now and forever.

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A reflection on conversations with my spiritual guides on 09 October 2006

1. On the Hyprocrisy of Fundamentalism
There is still a certain segment of Christianity which stubbornly abides with the fundamental expressions of the faith. They are fundamental in the sense that scripture is understood and applied in a most narrow sense, and most often in an unjustified self-righteous way which condemns others.

These people are bent on judging others not according to the standards of scripture, but rather, the standards they have set themselves which they thought they had derived from scripture. The mechanism of self-critique is absent in their worldview, and so they are unable to see what is wrong with themselves. In fact, even the desire to see what is wrong with themselves is missing all together. Thus, they go on to judge others vindictively without the slightest acknowledgement that their sin of pharisaism is no better off than the sins of others they claim to judge.

They are blind. They will keep saying what they will say, and they will keep acting in a manner consistent with their unmovingly narrow worldview (which is less Christian than they care to know). We can't stop them, even where they seek to discredit our ministry and our reputation. But do not fret, for God is our sovereign defender. Those who believe in us will keep trusting us despite how such people seek to destroy us.

2. On the Goal of the Christian Life
The Protestant gospel often speaks of the Christian life in terms of the penal theory of atonement. A God hungry for justice demands payment for sins committed. This view is narrow and causes our understanding of salvation to be deficient.

We ought to see the goal of the Christian life in the context of theosis or deification. God became human in order that humanity might be divinised. We are called to participate in the deified humanity of Jesus Christ. It is only in our participation with the divine that we become truly human. This does not imply that we are being dehumanised and morphed into little gods. It merely implies that in being connected to the divine, we are truly being the kind of human persons God has intended for us to be.

This highlights the Protestant inclination to see the Christian life as comprising of a static faith placed in a Christ crucified and resurrected just so we can get to heaven.

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The depth of unspoken joy is found not in the fleeing emotional bursts of laughter, but in the restful calmness of the soul. Many - followers and non-followers of the Way - have replaced the poverty of their unfulfilled souls with the temporal vanities of life's hurried pace.

Those who have truly come to understand the heart of God eventually arrive at the conclusion that the Christian life consists of living both contemplatively and sacramentally. It is the surest way that one can find himself living with a stillness of soul which finds the depth of the Creator's glorious presence in a noisy world that seeks superficial sensationalism. It is the only way one can ensure that the whispering voice within constitutes the dominant voice in one's life, even finding its power over a thousand shouts.

The follower of Christ who constructs his life upon the quicksand of temporality whores away his soul to a thousand voices that hear not the still small voice of the Master whispering for its return. Inasmuch as he tries to project the aura of spirituality, the reflection in the water doesn't lie.

You have heard many voices. Unworthy voices spoke and you listened. Now hear the voice of the One who whispers in the stillness of your heart.

"My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me."

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Hey Christian,

Howdy? How’s life? I’ll bet you’re enjoying life blatantly every bit as much as I am. Yeah yeah, I know about you and your “Jesus”. To me, he’s nothing more than a spiritual garb you hide behind to justify your love for material success. The only difference between you and me is, I’m honest about my stinkiness, you’re not.

You tell me that you’re climbing this corporate ladder because you want to shine for your Jesus or something like that - I often hear you talk about being “salt and light”. Kid yourself not, for if that was your intention, I wouldn’t see you craving after material wealth as much as I do. But your car is as extravagant as mine, and the size of your house is as wasteful as mine.

You claim that you earn a lot in order that you may give a lot for your religious charity - but it’s quite obvious that you amass most of it for yourself. You couldn’t possibly have thought I was blind, could you? And let me tell you, if you knew how much more I gave to charity than you did, you’d flip. I give to feel good about myself. What about you?

You speculate your money in the stock market, but you criticise me for buying the lottery. I suppose it means I’m gambling and you’re not. You crave that higher position in that new company and obviously see upward mobility as a cherished value in life, but you criticise me for job-hopping in search of better benefits and remuneration. Cummon, have the guts to acknowledge that you love success every bit as much as I do. Have the guts to acknowledge that your Christian religion exalts simplicity in life and that you can’t meet the standards. Don’t pretend, through your double-life, that you’re simple and that you have no self-ambition… if your god existed, he’d know. And you don’t even need a god to know this; even I, a mortal human being, can see right through your pretences.

But of course, when all these things come your way, you get to say “God blessed me with all this! Hallelujah!” When I get these things, I simply say it like it is - I worked hard for the love of money! Who do you think is more honest between us two?

Yeah, I can very easily hear you yelling at me now, “Hey! Don’t judge!” I don’t have to, my friend. If you had an ounce of conscience inside you, your conscience would judge you before anyone else does. The truth is, we are our own gods; it’s just that you have another name for that spiritual alter ego of the carnal you - Jesus. And what was it you called me the other day? An idolater, was it? Hah!

In case you’re wondering if I’m talking about you, yes, I am. I’ll always be a thorn in your flesh (hey, this term comes from your holy book, doesn’t it?) I’ll always be a constant reminder to you that you’re the reason I’m not a Christian. I don’t love you, and I don’t think you love me either. Even when you tried to convert me, it was more because you wanted to secure a heaven for yourself just like you’re doing here on earth. I look at your life, and you affirm my conviction - over and over again - that there is no god.

Yours provocatively,
The Unbeliever

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Allow an aging man the privilege of some soulful chatter. I’ve turned 30 this year and I’ve yet to begin speaking much about myself on this blog. Primarily, it’s because I’ve deliberately positioned it as a platform for more reflective and theologically contributive thoughts. But today, I break my own rule in very minute measure. Just for a bit.

People measure their milestones according to significant events in their lives; I think it’s quite a common phenomenon. Of course, on a lengthier scope, I measure my milestones in accordance with my age. But on a shorter scale, I typically measure my milestones according to my educational journey. This is partially because I’ve been a formal student since the age of four, and have never for a moment stopped my formal education since. Effectively, I’ve been a student for 26 years of my life.

The last milestone I charted began in July 2002 when I began my journey as a doctoral student in Contextual Theology. Tonight, the thought that I have completed 85 percent of my thesis suddenly struck me as something terribly significant. 85 of a hundred thousand words written, and it has taken over four years so far. And I now stand at the verge of completion, with only 15 thousand words left to complete a series of arguments to support my thesis.

And much has taken place within these over four years. I’ve been places – Indonesia, Europe, the Philippines, Africa. I’ve met people - some of whom look like they’re here to stay in my life and others who have left with no evidence of their presence whatsoever. I’ve made humiliating mistakes - too ashamed to name them so publicly.

Things have changed. I have changed. I began my journey as a newly graduated seminarian, young but having experienced enough to suffer from disillusionment at the idea of churchmanship. Now I’m a seminary teacher, still rather young and still extremely disillusioned with the idea of churchmanship - but wise enough to know that I mustn’t give up embracing a hope which God himself isn’t willing to give up.

I started out with big dreams. And now, after rather many failures that have defined the past four years of my life, I’m a bigger dreamer than ever - because I gave up my own tiny dreams for something bigger. If anything, I’ve learned to look beyond myself. I’ve learned to understand that my worth as a human person is best demonstrated when I see that there’s a world beyond myself and learn to live for others.

In the past four years, many of you - my friends - have popped this question before - what about marriage? And I believe I’ve always told you, “I’m not searching for someone, so I’m not even thinking about marriage. At least not now.” It still remains partially true. The only part that has changed is that while I wasn’t searching for someone, I recently stumbled across someone. I swear it wasn’t my fault; I just never expected that depth and simplicity - two seemingly conflicting virtues - could be so beautifully integrated and embodied within one human life. But don’t go trying to speculate too much, okay? The right doses of information will be released at the right time. There’s still a long process to go through before specific names are being mentioned. But yes, there’s someone in the picture, and I do suppose that the responsible thing to do for me would be to actually start thinking of marriage. (*Three deep breaths*)

Just some thoughts lingering early in the morning to clear my cache so I can go to bed empty-headed. So what else lies ahead? Who knows? My present mission is to impart the little knowledge I have to those who seek guidance under my ministerial care. My immediate goal is to complete my doctoral thesis, to submit it, and hope to pass. And then, to move on being the simple man that I am in God’s grand scheme of life.

The winding path is bound to lead somewhere.

Tonight, I'm reminded that I'm human. Don't see me as anything less, but don't see me as anything more.

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He came to institute a new family. A new breed of people. A new human race. But it is a family that's yet imperfect in its formation, for perfection has yet to be established in all its fullness.

But why is it a must to live in the midst of this imperfect family he has brought together? Because it is his journey of formation for us. Jesus, in making us live together in this new family, wants us to grow towards perfection. In many ways, he has shown that his greatest dream in his relationship with us is the perfection of his love in us; to be able to love perfectly like him.

Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law? Jesus replied: "`Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: `Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

This means that there is nothing more important than love; all the things that God asks us to do is motivated by love. Without love, all the Law and the Prophets are meaningless.

Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love…And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him.

He has placed us into this imperfect family so that we can learn to love like him. Of course, it would have been easy if everyone was so easily lovable. But the real formation takes place when we encounter people like our own selves.

If anyone says, "I love God," yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen. And he has given us this command: Whoever loves God must also love his brother.

So this was what Jesus was about after all: he was about bringing his people together so that they could practise to love one another as an expression of their love for him. It is more than just about learning to love one another casually. It is about learning to lay down our lives for him and for one another. We learn how to love one another sacrificially; to truly actually live for one another. We learn to love one another beyond a superficial love, and to offer ourselves to one another in a real and deep way. We may not be doing it perfectly yet, but we are doing it to the best of our abilities.

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.

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