What's so good about a church?

When Ahok was sent to jail this week for two years, it kept me thinking about what does having, professing and demonstrating faith mean in our modern times?

More relevantly, I asked myself, what is the function of a church in the context of the thousands of believers out there being persecuted for their faith, some even suffering and persevering for their belief in complete anonymity?

I guess answering the second question also answers the first, right? 

Here, let me borrow a metaphor that likens the Christian churches to a maternal womb giving birth to twins. But one of the twins was taken away at birth, while the other remained behind. The one who remained behind was brought up differently from the one who was taken away.

Their environments were worlds apart. The child who remained behind was given everything he'd ever wanted. He had all the creature comforts, the security, the fine meals, the air-conditioned nursery, the cushy sofa, the beautiful music to lull him to slumber, and nice clothes to wear.

The other child was deprived. He has to make do with what little he had. Most times, he would be beaten up for talking, and for sharing his belief that he is of a noble parentage.

Whenever he spoke about his parents, he would be put down, scolded, and even locked up. For years, he suffered, standing firm on what he believed in, and never giving up hope that one day his parents will return.

I wonder, does this metaphor describe the two different kinds of churches in our modern world? One with walls where faith is securely institutionalized and the congregation is tight-knit and worshipping comfortably in air-conditioned conventional halls constructed aesthetically for maximum spiritualized experiences.

And the other church is one without walls. It has no fixed location or address. There is no roof over their heads. The congregation is not sequestered away to a haven of worship, and they do not have the regular colourful programs that the other church has. Most times, they practised their faith with a handful of believers without the accompanied music and the charismatic church leaders. A cappella and simple messages were the mode of service. 

More importantly, the church with walls had the clout, the fame and the money. And out of gratitude for feeding and inspiring their belief, the congregation readily gives even more into the church's coffers.  On  other occasions, they write cheques in aid of the other church in need. This concentrated wealth under the absolute control of one or a few gives the church a bloated sense of authority, integrity and success.

The other church without walls however experiences no such material blessings. They depended completely on their belief to make ends meet. They ministered to people on the ground, on a personal level, one life at a time. They trust that their faith will make all things good in the end notwithstanding the trials they have to go through. 

This is the separate and different fate of the two churches, or the metaphorical twin brothers. Churches with walls and Churches without walls.

Well, at this point of my writing, it is obvious where my indictment lies and where my admiration goes. It is therefore obvious where I am going with this.

But let me be clear, if there is any indictment to be made, it starts first with me. I have more guilty pleasures as a believer than guilty repentance that leads to the empowering Romans 12 kind of transformation.

You see, I came from a church with walls, where faith is securely institutionalized and where the environment is well embellished to extract the maximum religious satisfaction in one memorable weekly service. My god, I stand indicted already.

But my point is that in our modern times, churches with walls are quite unavoidable, and to some extent, even biblical for we are the body of Christ, and that sacred body has to congregate somewhere right? The call is also to mass public worship under one roof, and not just private thanksgiving in one's room, right?

However, my concern on this Sunday morning where many like sheep are going to their various houses of God is this, is there a risk of an inverse relationship between comfort and faith, between material blessings and authenticity, and between hope built upon this world and the hope beyond?

Will more comfort bring about less faith, that is, the kind of faith that sees suffering for God as a joy unto the Lord? Put it in another way, as a result of being too accustomed to creature comforts, will we become more suffering-adverse for the glory of God?

On a same note, will more craving for prosperity cause the believer to struggle with issues of authenticity as a believer (or, in other words, to feel less authentic)? This struggle for authenticity comes from the higher risk of accessible entrapment that fame and fortune bring.

And how about hope in this world as compared to the next? Will we mistake the prosperity of this world for the richness that awaits in the world beyond? Will more hope built upon this world through the endless accumulation of wealth and power distract us from the hope for the world to come?

At this juncture, I recall that Bonhoeffer once insisted that the church wasn't a historical institution. To him, in his dissertation entitled "the Communion of Saints", he wrote that the church "was a living community that could transcend national, ethnic, class, and even religious boundaries."

More relevantly, he wrote that the church was not a building or an organization. It "should not be a remote, authoritative institution," but one which is "deeply and directly involved in the problems facing ordinary people."

Herein lies the nub of my concern. Recall my metaphor about the twins that translates into churches with walls and churches without? In line with Bonhoeffer's definition of a church, I feel that the issue is not so much about the different church environments, that is, one prosperous and the other persecuted. Neither is the issue so much about walls or no walls - metaphorical or otherwise.

The issue however has something to do with the answer to the second question I asked earlier: "What is the function of a church in the context of the thousands of believers out there being persecuted for their faith, some even suffering and persevering for their belief in complete anonymity?"

Well, the answer to that is obvious.

We are called to go out and reach out, rather than to just stay in and veg out - to put it succinctly. The President of World Vision US, Richard Stearns said, "The gospel means much more than the personal salvation of individuals. It means a social revolution."

It is therefore known as the Great Commission for all to preach the gospel to all, and not just the great convention for all to queue up to hear the gospel from one. In other words, it's still sola scriptura (infallibility of scripture) and not ex cathedra (infallibility of office holder).

But in the context of some fast-growing churches that are converging all revelation and scriptural authority, and centralizing all resources-control on the popularity of human leadership, the trend sadly leans towards the great convention rather than the Great Commission.

And if, in the secular world, there is the concern of the monopoly of prices that calls for anti-trust laws, then in the world of church growth, shouldn't there similarly be the concern of the monopoly of  spiritual revelations that calls for more discretion to be exercised by the believers?

No, it is not the size of a church per se that bothers me. It is how the size of the church gradually conditions the masses that bothers me. If there is strength in unity, there is also delusion in unity too.

Similarly, if there is encouragement in numbers, there are also ossification in numbers, complacency in numbers, and blind allegiance in numbers.

AW Tozer once said: "The church is not simply a religion institution. It is not a religious theatre where performers are paid to amuse those who attend. It is an assembly of redeemed sinners - men and women called unto Christ and commissioned to spread His gospel to the ends of the world."

At the end of the day, all growth has to be managed. This is no different from a secular company. A church cannot grow for the sake of growth - that's in fact the ideology of a cancer cell (Edward Abbey).

I believe, up to a point, coveted growth risks becoming an end in itself, and the founder or co-founders (or their successors) risks becoming self-referential.

Mindless growth adds layers to the ideals, which first sets it on her way. At some point, the church's humble past becomes just that, a distant past.

The layers come in many forms as the church grows. There is the administrative layer, the organization layer, the rules and formality layer, the privilege-section-in-the-congregation layer, the expectation layer, the wow-factor layer, the financial layer, the power-struggles layer, the pressure-to-impress layer, and the leadership-indispensability layer.

And what is ultimately buried under all that layers is the forgotten call of the Great Commission, or as what Richard Stearns earlier described with a tweak of mine, the inconvenient social revolution.

Alas, this is also where the church with walls progressively grows inward, quietly seeking the creature comforts within her own sacred space, and indulging in the beatific faith set in the safe and sterilized environment of personal success, individual prosperity and self-gratuitous charity, all boldly preached from the velvety pulpit.

Let me end with the apt words of the late Christian philosopher Dallas Willard:

"Faith today is treated as something that only should make us different, not that it actually does, or can make us different. In reality, we vainly struggle against the evils of the world, waiting to die and go to heaven. Somehow, we've gotten the idea that the essence of faith is entirely a mental and inward thing." Cheerz.

* Image from huffingtonpost.com

The blasphemy verdict of Ahok.

Basuki, or Ahok, is jailed for two years. He has to serve it immediately. That is, no bail pending appeal due to fear of him being a flight risk. And the sentence exceeded the Prosecution's recommendation of two years' probation. 

The Jakarta governor's crime? Blasphemy. He happened to have referred to a verse in the Quran while telling his constituents last September that they should not be misled by opponents urging Muslims to reject a non-Muslim leader." 

Ahok is a Christian and a Chinese. That's double minority in a largely Muslim majority nation. 

One political analyst Tobias Basuki has this to say about the verdict: "(the verdict was more a result of) politicking by the elites from various political parties who hate Ahok and who have been deprived of government projects because of Ahok's strict style of governing."

After the verdict was passed, crowd of hard-line Muslims cheered and shouted, "Allahu Akbar!" It means "God is great." 

Lesson? Just one. I have to admit that there is a lot I do not understand about religion. 

I therefore seek deeper understanding with Ahok's verdict that many of his supporters have lamented as harsh, manifestly excessive and politically motivated. 

In fact, a human rights group chairman Hendari said, "The verdict has proven the blasphemy (law) is prone to misuse by certain parties...It was a trial by the mob, which is actually against the rule of law."

Alas, during my secondary school days (in the 80s), I was taught religious studies, and I chose Christianity, that is, the four synoptic gospels, which talked about the life of Christ. 

At the same time, I was also a member of a relatively large charismatic Church where this God of mine is further illuminated as the Creator of the Universe, a God of love, an omniscient being of mercy, hope and compassion. 

For me, the religion taught in school and preached over the church pulpit tallied well, or is coherent. They were mostly congruent, consistent. 

They talked about a relatively uncomplicated God, who acted with predictable grace and wisdom, and rewarded his believers with eternal bliss and rest. 

Then, I read about religion in the papers, and seen (and experienced) it applied in the world outside the sterile classroom and the pristine pulpit, and things get much more complicated, muddled and even mind-boggling.

In the world, in raw reality, in politics and even in the offices of religious institutions, God takes on a different interpretation (or manifestation) from the one I was accustomed to in school and church. 

Strangely, this God becomes less clear or defined. He is less predictable in his storied ways. Divine love in the world out there is layered with man-made conditions. Mercy has a different agenda - more political rather than ecumenical. 

Compassion is selective. His divine blessing appears to be more nepotistic, manipulative and opportunistic than fair, just and equitable. And even his judgment and wrath seem to have a god-for-hire feel where they become a means to a very self-centric end. 

I was once told that religion separates us from the animals. To believe in omnipotence, and to ceremoniously subject our will to a higher purpose effectively distinguished us from our four-legged friends. 

But, to be honest, I can't be sure anymore. That distinction seems more contrived or self-delusional than believable. 

Yes, dogs do not repent, cats do not take communion, and wolves can't sit still to listen to a sermon for three hours straight, but neither do they act in the way we humans have acted when we ride on the triumphalist chariots of our own religious interpretations. 

Let me end with what the formidable Mark Twain has to say about religion (not that I agree with him entirely):-

"I have a religion--but you will call it blasphemy. It is that there is a God for the rich man but none for the poor.....Perhaps your religion will sustain you, will feed you--I place no dependence in mine. Our religions are alike, though, in one respect--neither can make a man happy when he is out of luck." Cheerz.

The Apogee of Apology.

If you want to say sorry, say sorry lah. But psychology professor David Chan is not going to make it easy for you.

In his illuminating article entitled "Say you're sorry: How to suss out an insincere apology," David makes an apology a loaded word. Or at least, he makes it a lot of work for the apologizer.

First, he wrote about the apologizer. There are seven Rs to an apology that he or she must take note.

Second, David wrote about manipulative apologies where the receiver of such apology has to take note.

And third, he reminds us not to accept an apology too readily. It will send out the wrong message to the public at large - something we all have to take note.

If you apply David's seven Rs to an apology, many may not measure up.

He wrote that the apologiser (like an energizer) has to Recognise the damage done, Reflect about his wrong, Regret the hurt, take Responsibility without giving excuses, Request (ask) for forgiveness, Redeem by making restitution or amends, and finally, Resolve to turn over a new leaf by assuring the victim he/she will not do it again. That's the seven Rs in a nutshell.

I guess the chicken rice chain boss would find it a mammoth task to live up to all seven of those Rs.

If anything, he definitely "recognised" his error since it is all over social media. He must have "reflected" long and hard about it in a direction that has led him to "regret" his foolish act, which has so many consequences for him and his business.

From there, his deliberation must have brought him to a point that he felt he needed to take "responsibility" by asking for "forgiveness" and "redeeming" his mistakes by slaughtering 200 chickens as a peace offering. As for "resolving" to change, well, only time can divine that.

Here, David warned us about the manipulative apologiser. He is one who crafts apologies for maximal effect.

These are usually "street-smart sweet talkers" or "swindlers who con people".

He wrote, "In crafty apologies, there is more to saying sorry than meets the eye. The apologies are not genuine. They are calculated, deceptive moves to serve some self-interest or advance hidden agendas.

Their real purpose is to induce specific feelings in the offended person or the audience to garner sympathy that is otherwise undeserved, or mobilize action that otherwise would not occur. They deny, detract and cover up motives and wrongdoings that are more severe than what is being apologised for."

Phew! Good luck trying to peel off all those layers of an apologetic onion.

I guess under such tight scrutiny, the United Airlines Chief Executive would not have sauntered through (without sounding off the siren) the apology sincerity detector if one were ever installed in his airport terminal.

Lastly, David turned his attention to the receiving end of an apology. He wrote that we should not so readily accept an apology when there is a "clear" and "severe wrongdoing" committed and the offender is clearly "unrepentant" and "manipulative."

He said accepting such apology without thought can have negative consequences like giving the impression that one condones the act, thereby trivializing the wrongdoing.

Further, it may compromise the moral standing of the one who accepts the apology, discourage discernment in general, and make flippant the hurt of other innocent parties who are the victim of such offender.

Lesson? Just one.

In one article, David has managed to cram in all the lessons about apology, and they are bursting at the seam.

Indeed, sorry has become the hardest word, loaded sometimes, and a lot of work at other times.

I guess when it comes to apology, Kong Hee has since the trial taken us through all its 50 shades.

And if we'd to line them all up, that is, the two oral apologies on stage, which won him thunderous applause, and the one intimate and quietest apology written on his Facebook two days before he surrendered himself to serve his time (and of course, minus the one he said god said sorry to him), it is obvious to me that his last apology goes the deepest, addresses the widest, and touches the most.

Alas, it took him altogether (since October 2015) one and a half year to say sorry. It was definitely a long, tough and hard struggle for him to mouth those plain words (as if the first two apologies to rousing applause and accepted unconditionally by his congregation somehow needed more injection of heart-sore sincerity).

And although there were no free chicken rice and flight seat to go with it, it would nevertheless still take more than words to bridge the gap and heal all wounds he had perpetuated for the full seven years.

I guess the main lesson for us all here is to never give (or receive) an apology lightly.

More importantly, it is always wiser to think before we act because an apology, at most times, requires much more from us in time, effort and remorse than words, chicken rice and three bows. Cheerz.