Walking with Jesus by the Beach.

 

If this were a dream...

One day, I was walking on the beach with Jesus and I had so many questions to ask him. There is no better time, right? And I know the time I have with him will not last for long. So I decided to go for the tough questions, and wonder how would Jesus answer them. Didn’t the Bible say, Jesus is the answer?

So I asked him about gays. Can’t let that opportunity pass right? I really wanted to know what he thinks of them. I told him some Christians are quite hung up on it.

Jesus was rather surprised with the question. He said there are other questions I could have asked him, and I chose that? While he was living on earth, he said there was only one group of people he had singled out. And they were not the gays. Not the prostitutes. Not the tax collectors. Not even the rich or the rulers. 

That one group he singled out is not defined by color, creed, wealth, or well, sexual orientation. That group was however defined by the double lives they had lived. He said this group made religion a coverup for their hypocrisy. And the worse ones exploit what is sacred and pure to justify their profanity. 

They used flawless words to further their fallen deeds. They are like weeds in a garden of diversity, and the only agenda of weeds is to divide and conquer. 

At this point, Jesus reminded me that if we had lived the life he had lived, a life true to the gospel of love, faith and hope, we would not have bothered about gays, atheists, prostitutes or the rich. He said it would be a life so deep, fulfilling and impactful, it’d practically testify for itself. 

Spreading the gospel, he said, would have been about a life lived to the fullest, beyond the purpose of this world, and not one about the vanity of empty words, or a restless heart that is so desperate to be right. 

Jesus said that we are called to be the salt and light of the world. But he wonder, where is the salt? Where is the light? 

He told me that people were very curious about the way he had lived on earth. They were curious because he was just different. And that difference also made many of them question themselves, that is, asking themselves questions that take many sermons to pull out. 

He said his life defied all natural expectations. He explained that, where they were supposed to hate, he loved. Where they were supposed to stone, he protected. Where they were supposed to condemn, he became the condemned. That enduring difference stoke a lot of curiosity. And that curiosity is the salt and light embodied that quietly leads and guides.

And while fear was the initial reaction, a life he had lived eventually gave them the courage and purpose to live fearlessly. He said if we do not live out the gospel the way he had lived, our words are like salt that has lost its value, or like dimmers working to blur the light, not guide others out of darkness. 

At this moment, I thought to myself, indeed, where is the salt, the light, and the curiosity? We have blended so well with the world that instead of defying natural expectations, we met them all. Where we are supposed to give and sacrifice, we strive and horde. Where we are supposed to examine our own hearts, we can’t wait to cast the first stone. Where we are supposed to rejoice in suffering for righteousness, we hide in cowardice, ashamed of the gospel. And where we are supposed to live our life by the teachings of the Sermon on the Mount, we live it out by the glib tongue of men. 

As I was heavy in thoughts, I didn’t realise that we had walked to the end of the beach. Jesus then looked at me and smiled. He said he knows I have many questions to ask him, but, he said that the answer to the ones that matter is much better lived out than asked. 

He said that my faith has to first be experiential, for the depth of it depends on the depth of my experiences. He also said at most times, a life well lived answers the question even before the question is asked. 

And with that, he left, leaving me with a clarity I have been seeking after when I first started walking with him by the beach.

 

Leadership that matters - Shepherd vs Sheepherder.

 

What a leader says must make sense. That is the litmus test for me. 

In a sense, what makes sense is grounded on simple principles. Essentially, there is a consistency and coherency in his words and actions. His actions, based on sound principles, are always enduring, plain, mostly unseen, behind the scenes, quietly impacting lives, but without fail, open to correction, learning as he or she adapts, and always hopeful, especially of the potential of the people under his charge. 

Such a leader doesn’t say to his people, “where are you going?” and then run in front of them, in the direction they have chosen, and say, “follow me”. That’s not how Jesus led. 

In all his humanity, Jesus laid down the cost for his disciples. He put it out there for them. “Count the cost,” he said. He did not say, “choose the price tag.” His principles are non negotiable. His leadership is not emotional. It is not about what you want to pay; it is about what you are prepared to give up in order to live a disciplined life that bears fruit. 

He said, “follow me”, and his disciples have not the faintest idea what was in store for them. Jesus took the time to build them up from within so that when their time comes, they have what it takes to transform lives, especially their own. Jesus knew that one can never calm the storm if the storm in one’s heart is still unsettled. But I digress...

Let me say that firm leadership does not lead from above, from a place of creature comfort. He is called to be a valley-side companion, not a mountain top director. He is definitely not a disc jockey standing alone on the grand stage rah-rah-ing the trance-like crowd. 

When Jesus calmed the storm, he was standing in front of his trembling disciples, not behind them. If there were any loose debris taken up by the wind, his body would be the first to take the first projectile strike.

Let us be reminded that there is a scripture in Numbers that reads: “Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint someone over the congregation who shall go out before them and come in before them, who shall lead them out and bring them in, so that the congregation of the Lord may not be like sheep without a shepherd.” 

That’s firm leadership, one that goes before the congregation, comes in before them, and leads them out as well as brings them in. 

It’s not stationary leadership. It’s active, proactive. It’s word lived out, not just word spoken, however much they excite the senses. That’s what makes sense about leadership. It’s word embodied, word empowered, and word transforming. Not just words, period. 

Finally, we must not forget that there is a difference between a shepherd and a sheep-herder. If you google it, “a sheep-herder is a person who herds sheep in large numbers in unfenced country. A shepherd is a person employed to guard, tend, and herd sheep, especially at pasture.”

A sheep-herder goes everywhere with his sheep. Their numbers define him; his validation comes from it. His pasture is unfenced because his will goes with the urgency or trend of the time. And when one sheep strays, the sheep-herder is the least perturbed. 

A shepherd however knows his mission. It is anchored on timeless truth. He is the sentry guard for his sheep. He protects as well as nurtures. His pasture is a rich green meadow, where his sheep are always nourished, inside and out. 

A shepherd thus leads; a sheep-herder excites. A shepherd is never far from his sheep; a sheep-herder stands afar. A shepherd takes the first hit; a sheep-herder hides behind his sheep. And a shepherd goes out of his way even for one sheep; the sheep-herder can afford to lose a few. 

And the shepherd leads under the employ of the one who calls him. The one who went before him. And the one who gave his life for him, and for all who are placed under him.

 

Choosing the better thing: the spin of the materialist grind (Part 1 and 2)

 

Last weekend, we had a discussion with the young adults. One of them shared how he felt when he was doing his reservist. His army/commando mates are nearing their thirties. 

When they gathered for that once-a-year national service, he said one would notice which station of life they are currently in. Some of them would drive their BMW into camp. Some would be sharing about their successes in their career, earning more in comparison. Others would have been married, maybe have kids...(which may not be all a good thing if one is trying to make ends meet). 

While they all wore the same army uniform, shared the same bunk and food, and subjected to the same exercises, they were palpably different in terms of their different socioeconomic status. There is thus a gap when they started sharing about how they have reaped in the material successes while the rest, who are struggling, listened by the side.

When he shared how he felt, that is, how he felt left behind, he said one of his army mates who drove a BMW said casually that he discovered that having it all was not all it was banged up to be. It is just not what he is looking for, that is, he still feels empty inside. 

Well, breaking into humor, the young adult said that at least his friend had a BMW with him when he said that. For him, he didn’t have anything to show for. 

Well, he has a point, a pointed one. That sharing in fact kept me thinking about how our society is wired in general. 

I guess it is the male peacock syndrome. If you have it, flaunt it. It’s the age-old conspicuous consumption, and kings and queens have no shortage of that exhibitionistic attitude. 

And in modern times, if you work hard (and with some luck), you would have earned the bragging rights. It is therefore human nature to shout it out at the rooftop. It’s called giving yourself a pat on the back. For some of us, it is a lifetime reminder that you are first and the rest will just have to acknowledge that - consciously or subconsciously. 

That’s a kind of signalling in society too. You send signals to people that you have arrived. Like the hare, you do the dance of jig when you complete the race with material possessions as the reward. The tortoises of society will just have to crawl their way to the finishing line at their own paces and marvel from a distance. 

And apart from crawling towards the finishing line, what do the rest of us do?

Well, we can console ourselves. We can do what the wolf in Aesop’s fable do. He can’t get the grapes. He walked away saying they aren’t sweet. They are sour (I am just being realistic). 

But, having said all that, is it really all it banged up to be? When you have arrived, with fancy cars and mansions to boot, do you really feel empty inside? 

Or, you are just saying that to give out a counter-signal, that is, a form of bragging, but this time, you are flaunting humility, that is, a sobering philosophical outlook to elevate your status as the wise one? 

At this juncture, I recall a tale about a devil having a conference, seeking consultation with his seniors on how he could engineer to get a priest to fall into temptation. Many have tried before and he was infallible, because in his village, he was practically a saint. 

This was so until a voice from the back of the conference room cried out. “I have a winning formula. I know how I can bait the priest. It’s a sure win.”

The room fell into pin-drop silence to hear what their partner-in-sin has to say. “Well, it’s easy,” whispered the little devil. “Just tell him his younger brother has just been appointed as a bishop.”

I think that says it all. Envy, the kind that bites and doesn’t let go is the kind that rots the soul when everything we do, whether we admit it or not, is a means to an end. And that end being for self-glorification, even if it is about doing charity for a cause. 

Mind you, the already-rich amongst us can be flaunting it big, telling the world how they are remodelling their multi-storey bungalow in some Cayman island, or send another signal, no less soul-biting, by wearing it down, like Zuckerberg, who is always in jeans and body-hugging t-shirts - almost the same colour everytime he is presenting in public. Nothing of the usual bling-bling. 

Either ways, when the heart is desirous of attention, the actions will follow suit. Even virtues can be made a goal to elevate oneself. 

Let me return to the camp sharing and about a BMW. The young adult has a point about how he felt, that is, when he said that at least his camp buddy owned a BMW when he lamented. 

As a cluster leader, I sat there and nodded in amusement, allowing the biting irony to sink in. It is a feeling quite universal and undeniable. That’s the way the society is wired. Even the priest, no matter how outwardly pious, has his own demons, very much like the fate of the respected religious leaders who fell from grace. 

My point is to acknowledge that this is human nature. It is the uno-stacko nature of a hierarchical society, when everything we do is an intense competition from birth, grades, schools, salaries, properties and bank accounts, constantly striving to be numero uno.

These are deemed the benchmarks of worldly successes, that is, the things we acquire that define us. And people who have “arrived”, even at an early age, will not let you forget it, whether intentional or otherwise.

But, having said all that, there is an interesting twist to what the young adult had shared that night. It was almost a divine moment he had encountered at the camp. It doesn’t change everything of course, but it offered another perspective of things. I will write about it, erm, maybe tomorrow. 

So, stay tuned....

 

(PART 2)...the young adult shared that he booked a grab one evening to leave campsite when he saw a car waiting just by the roadside. He approached the car, entered it and the driver greeted him. Along the journey, they had a good talk. 

The driver shared that he was a missionary in Myanmar. He came back to Singapore before Covid. But, when CB struck, he was stuck. He could not return to Myanmar. So, the missionary took up the grab job in the meanwhile. 

As they talked about life and faith, the missionary shared about Martha, Mary and Jesus. You can read the encounter in Luke 10:38-42. While Martha kept herself busy cooking up a storm in kitchen service, Mary sat by Jesus’ feet in what is called living room intimacy. 

Martha was troubled by Mary not helping and said: “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” This was Jesus’ reply.

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her.”

That encounter was timely for the young adult. As he was bombarded by the relative successes of his camp mates (during the reservist exchange of who is seemingly more successful than who), the Martha and Mary story struck a chord in his heart. He felt a calmness after the storm, so to speak. 

Our worries are in fact endless. At different stages of our life, we have different concerns, and some of them can turn into an obsession, and oppressively so. For many, the the need for status, the deep need to be accepted, the crippling sense of the prospect of a loss and how others will view us if we fail by the worldly benchmarks scare the living daylight out of us. 

Anyway, who wants to be left behind right?

But being left behind implies that we have put ourselves by choice in that one-track race that can only end up in a one-dimensional trophy. That race is about money, power and fame and that trophy is about self-enrichment. 

Yet, no, this is not a post to trash success, even the secular kind. And I feel we should stop being pretentious about it. We can tell our child that there are other more worthy pursuits than grades, and that may be true, but don’t we want our child tested, even through the academic grind, and hope that they will come out shining, like paper gold? 

The more pertinent question is, if we have a child who quite naturally excels academically, without tuition, how will that change us? How will we view other kids who struggle and their mothers? And if not, that is, our kids struggle with their studies, how will that change us too? And whether we have academically inclined kids or otherwise, will we be the same, largely unchanged, or change for the worse?

This applies when our kids graduate too. When it comes to work and career, we too want them to excel, secure that promotion, and diligently work their way up the success ladder, right? 

On this, Adam Smith made this observation: “The rich man glories in his riches, because he feels that they naturally draw upon him the attention of the world...The poor man, on the contrary, is ashamed of his poverty. He feels that it either places him out of the sight of mankind, or, that if they take any notice of him, they have, however, scarce any fellow-feeling with the misery and distress which he suffers.”

That shame is real for everyone who has judged themselves as not measuring up by the worldly benchmarks. And this is made worse when the comparing fever starts. It is the shame of being left behind, the shame of inadequacy, the shame of falling short. 

But, that Jesus’ encounter woke the young adult up. It was like a timely freshwater spring on his way home in the grab ride. And we as a community are duly ministered by it too when he shared with us that night. 

No doubt he will still be visited by that shame occasionally, and we all have that occasional guest. That is why we need to embrace a community that we can relate to. That is, a community that shares the shame, puts it in its place, and then replaces it with a perspective that anchors us in what matters in the long lens of things. 

Although Jesus said that Mary has chosen the one thing (that is needed) and that was the better thing, which will not be taken away from her, I like to think that he was also reminding us that the one thing doesn’t stand alone in a social vacuum. I take that to mean this - “whether we can put to rest the rest of the things that is not that one thing that is needed, that is, the one thing that is better.” 

And if we can’t let go, then it would be expected that we would soon come to lose that one better thing, because how can a mind perpetually struggling with wanting everything in order to avoid the persecution of shame ever give himself completely to that one thing that has the potential to release him from that persecution in the first place? Food for thought?

In any event, I have always believed that in every context, there is the better thing to pursue. It would take time for the young to find, treasure and anchor it. 

When he works, it is not so much the material rewards as it is about how he has grown over the years in character. When he marries, it would be good to ask, what is he looking for - individual interests or the interests of his spouse, or a lifetime commitment or one where it is hope that the emotions of romance will not dry up?

And as a parent, the better thing is not about making sure your child jumps from one academic hoop after another. It is about the bond that your child carries with him or her when they start their own family. That sacred call of parenthood is not so much performance-based as it is relationship-rooted. For the deeper the roots, the stronger the child - and the closer the parent gets to the better thing. 

Alas, in everything we do, we always miss the forest for the trees. We miss the intimacy for the service. We miss the bond for the performance. We miss the devotion for the presents and gifts. We miss the communion for the activities. We miss our anchored identity for the comparing. In essence, we miss the one thing for just about everything else. 

That is why Charles Spurgeon writes this about Martha: “The condition of a servant well becomes every Christian. Her fault was that she grew “cumbered with much serving” so that she forgot him and only remembered the service.”

This is common amongst us. Even leaders running churches or captains of industries sometimes have to take stock. We all have our one thing, the better thing - one that endures with us for a lifetime. The intimacy, the bond and the legacy all dovetails to that one thing.

Our fault is that we strive to do all things at every different season of our life. And that only draws us further and further away from that one thing. 

Sadly, that is the journey of shame, a journey we are scarce to find enduring peace and the company of the one who truly matters.

 

 

Allan Wu - The Only Thing you need.

A life can be complicated. We never have enough. We are taught to have more than enough, always pile it all up for a rainy day (well, more like in anticipation of a second Noah flood). We are even encouraged to believe by faith in a god who is so eager to bless us beyond what we thought should be enough. 

So when we are taught that enough is not quite enough, will we then ever come to a point of sudden dawning that what we already have is good enough? Or, putting it another way, at what point do we start to live a life of lasting and trusted rest, rather than one lusting after it, and never getting it because nothing we ever have is enough in our brief lifetime on earth?

When God completed the creation work in Genesis, on the seventh day, it is recorded that he rested. In Hebrew, that rest is interpreted as, “And God exhaled.” 

Our Creator diligently took a breath, made full use of it, and released it. He let go. He knew when to let go. It comes after what needs to be done is done. And when He saw it was all good, he exhaled. He rested.

Well, do we? Do we embrace what we have and then exhale, coming to full rest? Or, do we see what is good as an enemy of great (or best), and because of that, we are always struggling to catch our breaths between our endless/mindless worldly pursuits? 

I wrote this because I read this morning about what actor Allan Wu said in an interview. He was interviewed by Choo Yun Ting. 

Allan’s ex-wife is another celebrity, Wong Li Lin. They have two kids, a daughter, Sage, 16, and a son, Jonas, 14. 

He was born in California to Chinese immigrant parents. They were upper middle class. Allan studied integrative biology at the University of California, Berkeley. He recalled that he grew up in a “frugal environment.”

“My mother was the one who taught me to be grateful for what I have, because a lot of people out there have a lot less than we did.” 

Living in the fast-paced world, Allan had his own demons to fight with. He admitted that for a time, he was “more preoccupied with keeping up with the Joneses, especially working in the entertainment industry, where he would see peers driving nice cars or owning luxury items.”

Allan said: “There was a time that I was influenced by that, and felt that I had to be that way too. But then I realised that trying to be like everyone didn’t increase my quality of life or made me happier.”

Going full philosophical mode, Allan has this advice for his two kids: “It is more important to go out into the world and discover what makes you happy.”

“If you’re able to make a living out of it, then you will never have to work a day in your life. Also, never spend beyond your means, because we don’t really need much to be happy - we just need to find out what are the surprisingly few things that we actually do need.”

That reminded me of what Jesus told Martha when she complained to him about not asking Mary for help out in the kitchen. He said, “Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

For me, Allan’s “surprisingly few things” coincides with Jesus’ “only one thing”. And the point is not about numbers, whether it is one or a few. But it is about the condition of our heart. For there are many pursuits calling out to us, and our goals and ambition can be innumerable and unquenchable. But there is only one heart to receive all that, to process them, and to commit over a lifetime. 

Jesus is thus reminding Martha to always choose what is better, and what is better always satisfies. In other words, it is always, and unfailingly enough, or more than enough. True rest therefore comes from our intentional choices to pursue what is worthy, fruitful and timeless. And that one thing always grant a life unhurried rest. 

So, if our life is about the house we have built for ourselves and our loved ones, where do we then spent most of our waking moments? Is it in the kitchen, busy cooking up a storm to impress, yet seldom around for the people we love, or profess to love? Or, is in the living room, striving for intimacy, building relationships and finding lasting rest and contentment in it? 

While Jesus is not saying that kitchen work or ministry is not important, he is however saying, at what cost are we paying for such breathless pursuits? For in the end, only a fool counts not the cost when he builds his house. He can always build a grand mansion with manicured garden, but his heart never feels complete, and the work for him is never finished. 

Or he can build a modest home, without all that empty space, yet his heart is always full, knowing full well that the lives living in it are always content, joyful and resilient even in the midst of a trial. 

Let me end with these words by poet William Stafford.

“There‘a a thread you follow. It goes among things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing. You have to explain about the thread. But it is hard for others to see. While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die; and you suffer and get old. Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding. You don’t ever let go of the thread.”

Mary did not let it go. That thread was all she held on to. That one thread accompanied her throughout her life. Things may change, but not that thread. It is the only thread she knew, and the only choice she had made that gave her unsurpassed peace. She had indeed exhaled, in full rest, and left the things of this world to go strangely dim as she turned her eyes to what matters in life.

 

Would Jesus pastor a megachurch?

Last night, I had a good talk with a close friend. We talked about church. We talked about church growth. At one point, I asked him, “If Jesus were alive today, will he be leading a megachurch?” His immediate reply was this: “I am not Jesus”. 

After that, he thought for a while and said that it is quite unlikely. I asked why, and he said, “Will a person who often walk away from a crowd lead a megachurch?”

Well, he does have a point. Jesus was no doubt popular. People came to him because he performed miracles during that time. He was also a good speaker. He spoke with authority. He spoke simply, straight to the heart. He dealt with the issue, not the person, unless of course, you happen to be a pharisee - then he can be up close and personal with you. 

Jesus had crowds following him, a throng of thousands, especially after he performed the miracle of five loaves and two fishes. I believe Jesus was not looking for a crowd to spread his message. He just saw a need, and he filled it. It was not a planned evangelistic meeting beforehand. As far as the scripture is concerned, Jesus kept a low profile. 

There are many reasons for it. It could be that he didn’t want that kind of attention because his work with the disciples was not done. Such attention drawn prematurely might very well undermine his three years of ministry before he faced Calvary. So, keeping a low profile was the way to go. 

Or, it could be that Jesus knew the madness or the myopia of the crowd. The mob often gets deindividuated. They lose their sense of critical thinking. In other words, they tend to follow blindly. And Jesus wanted none of that. He was therefore not going for mass conversion for the sake of conversion. He was not looking for numbers for the sake of numbers. It was not about filling the pews, or meeting a target.

It could also be that he saw their hearts and knew that they were following for the wrong reasons. In other words, they were doing the right thing (”following Jesus”) for the wrong reasons (“Jesus, knowing that they intended to come and make him king by force, withdrew again to a mountain by himself” - John 6:15).

Making Jesus a king by force would definitely draw too much attention. The Roman authorities would have come down hard on him. But it could also be that Jesus was trying to tell them that going after signs and wonders will not lead to enduring changes. They were missing the forest for the tree. They were pursuing the gift instead of the giver. 

That is why Jesus said in John 6:26-27: “You come looking for me, not because you saw God in my actions but because I fed you, filled your stomach, and for free. Don’t waste your energy striving for perishable food like that. Work for the food that sticks with you, food that nourishes your lasting life, food the Son of Man provides. He and what he does are guaranteed by God the Father to last.”

This brings me back to megachurches. I think we live in different times. The context is different. While Jesus was starting a revolution, faithfully planting seeds in the hearts of His twelve disciples, and avoiding the attention in an intolerant and highly inflammatory environment, today’s megachurches thrive in a world largely governs by the rule of law and a government that allows for freedom of expression. 

As such, Jesus’ teaching about giving to God and giving to Caesar would be the logical balance needed for prosecution-free evangelism. 

So, there is no reason why one should avoid crowd. In fact, the opposite is true. Churches want to be known. Every evangelistic meeting aims to draw in the people to spread the gospel. Part of the aim is also to fill the seats. 

So, in a way, a good service would be one where there is standing room only, amongst other benchmarks. This is reminiscent of the overflowing crowd in Capernaum which gathered to hear Jesus teach and they had to lower the paralytic man down the opening in the roof. And isn’t it said that the harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few? 

So, going back to my question, “if Jesus were alive today, will he be leading a megachurch?”, I guess my friend was right the first time, “He is not Jesus.” That is the instinctive response, and I take it to mean that we will never know for sure. 

Yet, one thing will not change. If Jesus would to walk with us today, he will be immensely popular. He will have millions of followers on social media. People will queue to hear him speak. He will have many who would want to seek his advice. Publishers would even ask him to write book, do podcasts, appear on tvs or netflix, even do a documentary. 

And I know what you are thinking - the thought alone is not just surreal, but bordering on heretical. Thanks for indulging me anyway. 

I guess after all’s said, behind the intention of that question is to ask, “how would Jesus expect us to handle fame? Or will he still shun the crowd today as he did during his time? In other words, operating in different times, will Jesus lead megachurches?”

After giving it much thought, I feel that asking that question misses the point. For by asking that, I am guilty of putting the carriage before the horses, that is, prioritising the structure over lives, form over substance. 

For if Jesus is the same, today, yesterday and tomorrow, then the church He leads will be the same church He had led when the Word first became flesh. It would thus be a church about the body of Christ and not about the church, full stop. In other words, it is not about the building, the budget and the bodies, as in numbers. It is about the people, each individual.

And let me just add that I believe it is esentially about a church without walls, that is, a church that fills the hearts, not the pews, and a church that is as vibrant a community of four or five as it is a community of hundreds or thousands.

To put it another way, there is just no distinction in numbers, only distinction in lives changed, hope empowered and love personified, without which there is no church to speak of anyway; only organised religion. 

No doubt the head of the church is, and has always been Christ, so that there is no risk of misattribution, but the body of the leadership is every single life truly transformed for his glory. In that context, it is about each life leading another in a bond of unbreakable unity, resilient hope. 

More importantly, as my friend last night shared with me openly, it is a church that cares, one that genuinely puts others before himself/herself, because the heart is forever grateful. It is therefore not a church that is dying to be known, but a church dying to self. 

And it is a church not concerned about how many walks into her doorway so that the offering bag would be full, but about what one can offer to journey with another who decides to give his or her life for his loving Saviour. 

Let me end with what comes closest to such a church led by Jesus, whether then and now. It would look something like what the biblical scholar N.T. Wright once described it. 

“It’s a place of welcome and laughter, of healing and hope, of friends and family and justice and new life. It’s where the homeless drop in for a bowl of soup and the elderly stop for a chat. It’s where one group is working to help the drug addicts and another is campaigning for global justice. It’s where you’ll find people learning to pray, coming to faith, struggling with temptations, finding new purpose, and getting in touch with a new power to carry that purpose out. It’s where people bring their own small faith and discover, in getting together with others to worship, the one true God, that the whole becomes greater than the sum of its part.”

And I believe that is how Jesus expects us to deal with fame. For it is not about being known by the tens of thousands, but about being known just by Him that matters, even if it means being prosecuted for His sake.

In any event, there is no guarantee that had Jesus been alive today, however heretical that thought, he would be embraced with open arms by the world as we know it today. We are forgetting that the world is not our home, and the things of the world is antithetical to the things of God. That reality or truth sadly is timeless. 

I would therefore not be surprised should the world end up persecuting Jesus for the second time after the “honeymoon period” is over because his teachings have always stood in the way of the world being religious for self-profiting reasons. 

(Ps: Thanks Ken and Addy for a wonderful time. yesterday).

 

 

The Issue of the Heart - Monday Morning Musing.

Monday morning musing...

If you look at how Jesus led then and how a typical cell or home group in church leads today, the difference is glaring. 

Think about it. 

Jesus’ time with the twelve was everyday, all day, for three years. Altogether, if you do the maths, it’s about 9000 hours of life together, that is, sharing, sleeping and teaching, especially by example, by life encounters, by signs and wonders, by prayers, by rebuking, by silence, by calming the storms of life, and by having hearty meals together. 

How about us? How much time do we spent with our home group? 2 hours a session on a weekday? Some three hours? Every week, two hours? 

How about individual meet ups? Another two hours? And informal gathering, quarterly? 

So, put together, we have about the standard 2 hours a week for three years, and that comes up to 320 hours. 

And if we add those time of individual meetings (even though not in a group context) and the quarterly gatherings for three years, maybe we can push it up to 400 to 500 hours invested in a cell. 

Now, the comparison seems unfair because times are different. Jesus did tell them about the cost. He demanded that they counted it. The Cross they have to bear is not only about sacrifices of time, but family, loved ones too. He asked them to follow him, period, not meet up every week, have a hot meal, and go home after that. 

Today, our cell group experiences are so different. We confine ourselves in a room or a hall, and hand out prepared notes, with three or four questions to address or tackle. 

We have our standard worship and praise of 10 to 20 minutes. We go into introduction and then discussion. We end with a prayer and then fellowship before we call it a night. 

Cell group dynamics vary in intensity, depth and intimacy. 

Some gel well, others are largely a touch and go affair. Still others suffer from declining membership because the members don’t feel connected and the leaders are largely disillusioned, exhausted having to juggle work, family and ministry. 

But my point is this...no, it is not about the difference between Jesus’ time and ours. It is not about the 9000 hours invested over three intense, intimate years and ours of about 400 to 500 hours of “let’s meet again next week, and don’t forget to read up chapter so-and-so.”

It is not even about the difference of how structured ours are and how impromptu, most times, spontaneous Jesus leadership was when he led the twelve. 

Ultimately, it is about the human heart. That’s what it all boils down to. The eras may have changed, with technology, civilization progression, and science advancement, but the heart is still the same. That is why, corny or otherwise, the issue of the heart is indeed the heart of the issue. 

Let me just say that Jesus’ 9000 hours spent with his twelve was not a resounding success in His lifetime. Underscore “lifetime.” 

History has shown that they had failed Him even at the time of the Cross. During his lifetime, they were struggling to emulate their Saviour, to follow in His footsteps. 

The disciples have all kinds of issues not uncommon to the ones we experience today. They have fear issues, doubts issue, drowning issues, rebellion issues, ego issues, greed issues, racist issues, and suicide issue - the last issue ended in a disciple’s death. 

Make no mistakes, His disciples have ideas, opinions, tensions, clashes, struggles, values, and strong, stubborn wills of their own. 

Their hearts were not transformed and lives impacted until Jesus declared “it’s finished”. And if they were prematurely judged during the lifetime of Jesus, the world of Christianity might just be viewed as another ancient cult no different from the rest of the ancient myths of gods and goddesses. 

Going back to my point about the heart of the issue in the context of a cell or home group, I think the words of senior pastor Gareth Weldon Icenogle puts it most aptly. He wrote: -

“All human communities exist in a state of brokenness and ambivalence, caught between the seventh day shalom of God and the temptation to withdraw into the “darkness” and “chaos” of the first day...small groups are trapped in the “paradox” of hunger for intimacy (“it’s not good to be alone”) and fear of intimacy (“they sewed fig leaves to cover themselves”).”

I harbour no delusions about the human heart. Neither do I underestimate its potential. The same heart that plots another’s downfall is also the one that sacrifices for others. 

From darkness or chaos to peace, the journey is a long, and sometimes terrifying one. The disciples struggled to align their hearts to the heart of their Saviour just as we today struggle to align ours to His.

Although brokenness and the hunger for intimacy come together as a bridge to healing and peace, yet we struggle to connect because that is also where we are liable to be broken. And for many, this is not their first time. That is our fear of intimacy, resulting in a resolute resignation in favour of being alone. 

That is also the challenge of small groups today. That is, the challenge to build upon brokenness by inviting them to be even more vulnerable, knowing that when they open and give of their hearts to another, sharing the hurts and confusion, the chaos and hopelessness, they might themselves experience brokenness, greater uncertainty and pain. 

But Jesus knew that that is the only way to transform a heart. Not by sewing fig leaves to cover ourselves, hiding our brokenness, but by confronting the pain, transcending the brokenness, and embracing a new perspective of hope beyond the burdens and cares of this world. 

And when Jesus calls us to come and die to self, He is not telling us to harden our heart so that we are beyond brokenness. He however calls us to brave through our trials with it so that in our brokenness, we may receive healing, restoration and peace. That is the enduring resilience of Calvary from the one who is also the author and finisher of our faith.