What if I could see a day through the eyes of God?

 

A Sabbath Morning Meditation.

What if I could see a day through the eyes of God? I wonder, what would I see...?

I guess I would see the beginning of dawn, the first light of day. And I would see everything is uncovered by the light. From the darkest corner to the edge of the expanding universe, light chasing light, nothing escapes His sight.

I would see the rich and the poor, and everyone in between. I would see them taking their first and last step, their first and last breath. I would also see their lives stripped bare, nothing is hidden, beyond humanity’s thoroughfare.

I would see the fig leaves they cover themselves with; some are made of royal cloth, others are worn and torn. But, whatever the coverage, they all return to the buried soil just the same. Naked they come, naked they go. God sees them all. 

I would also see their struggles, the rich and the poor, with success and failure. I would see them paying the same price for it, the price of a heart unsettled, unhinged. 

Through God’s eyes, I would see the rich building their babelian towers. I would see the sweat of many offered up at the altar for those crowned at the top. I would see their ambitions, their hunger, their turmoil and pain. I would see their desires to race to the top, some striving to be god. 

Maybe at this point, God’s sight would take a subtle turn and allow me to see their desires through their own eyes. And I would see what they see, and see that the more they possess, the more they see what they want to see rather than what they need to see. 

Alas, at the speed they are travelling, everything around them is a blur. I could see that too, though it’s a sight of limited clarity. And I could also see many being pulled by the undertow, driven and riven by a chaos from within they can’t fathom or control. 

Well, at this time, I could see the poor too. I could see that their lives are largely defined by what others have and what they don’t have. It is an existential gap they are constantly struggling to bridge; most times, in vain. 

But here’s where the sight of the rich and the poor converges. They are driven by what they want to see, not what they need to see. And their drive is fueled by the same heart, a heart that is never enough, unanchored too.

And yes, I would also see how they live. Between the rich and the poor, the contrast is heartbreaking. 

I would see their worries, their anxieties. I would see their tears. I would see babies left to die. I would see the innocent groping for justice and the guilty escaping from it. I would see wars, in homes and in public. I would see daily abuses and grief unspeakable. I would also see those who take their own lives, by the reassuring nudge of death, and that moment they take their last breath. 

Peering into what God sees, the light of dawn indeed unravels all. Nothing is hidden. Not the pain nor the sorrow, neither the grief nor the joyless tomorrow. 

But at every corner of despair, I would also catch a flickering light. Even in sheer darkness, the light still shines, refusing to give up. And I sense this is the part of the day where the tears of God turn into rivers of hope. This is the part where the light of righteousness uncovers what the heart longs to see, or needs to see.

This longing opens my eyes to a world where the darkness is wavering because the light is unwavering. A world where the darkness is retreating because the light is advancing. 

At this point, the first light of creation becomes clearer. I could see that it is doing His work, pressing on, never letting up. I also see hope rising and pain overcoming. Most of all, I would see lives restored and reconciled, over a lifetime. For even the shadow of death gives way to what is resurrected light. And as I behold it, I tell myself, “Oh, what wondrous sight!”

As the world is unveiled, through His eyes, I see the struggle to finish the good race is unyielding. Light and darkness pitting against each other, but darkness eventually bowing to the light. Indeed, at this point, the horror of the fallen has given way to the awe of the risen. 

I guess that is what I would see in a world fallen into darkness. It is a world illuminated by the light. A world struggling towards the light. A world redeemed by His love through the eyes of His son. 

Indeed, from the heights of Golgotha, I see the world through His eyes. I see what he meant when he said it is finished. His finished work is taking the world towards the clarity of a new morning. Through the lens of Calvary, I see enduring hope emerging.

And amidst the chaos and darkness, the first light of dawn has always been there. It has never left. We are not forgotten. We are all held together by it. That first light that unravels all. That first light that enables me to see what the eyes of God see, and so much more.

And that light is still doing the good work. It is still journeying with us. For no matter how dark the night, it still shines. For the darker the night, the brighter the light. And it pierces the darkness to light even the darkest night. 

Like a lamp unto my feet, it is enough for me to take that first step of faith, followed by the next step, and the next, until I finally see the full light of Day. It’s hope undimmed. It’s truth unfolding. It’s love unyielding. 

Indeed, while my flesh and my heart may fail, but He is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

 

Zuckerberg's metaverse - Let there be light.

I recall the kick-off verse to Genesis, “Let there be light”. And God created a whole new world in 6 days. 

Now, Mark Zuckerberg has plans to create another whole new world called “metaverse”. But, before I flesh out what the 35-year-old technology magnate meant, let’s flesh out what is ordinarily implied in that word - “metaverse”. 

“Meta” is a Greek word for “after”, “beyond”, “comprehensive” or “transcending”. And “verse” in this case means the single or first word, which is akin to John 1:1, where it declared - “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

When you put them together, you get a world beyond this world, a world created by the first word, in this case, a binary-algorithmic language with some resemblance to the word that first became flesh and lived amongst us. 

And I am making this biblical reference because it felt like this is what Zuckerberg has in mind, for there is an uncanny parallel to it; if you allow your imagination boundless flight. 

Rightly so, Zuckerberg sees the metaverse as a virtual world, one that is so real, so tangible and so experiential, it is really no different from the one we are living in now. In fact, the closest thing imaginable is that of mega-hit trilogy, The Matrix, where we are reduced to bodies to be plugged in, for a new experience beyond the world we once knew. 

Well, Facebook is heading in that direction, and like all out-of-this-world ideas, it started with a thought, a spark, or as some would say, “let there be light.” And it will be an incredible immersive experience way beyond what our current VR goggles are able to do. Are you then ready player one to player one billionth?

Director of the Centre for Financial Regulation and Innovation, Daniel Broby, wrote the below article and here is what he said: -

“In his quest to turn Facebook into a metaverse company, Mr Zuckerberg is seeking to build a system where people move between virtual reality (VR), AR and even 2D devices, using realistic avatars of themselves where appropriate. Here they will work, socialise, share things and have other experiences, while still probably using the Internet for some tasks such as searches, which is similar to how we use it now.”

“Owning not only the Facebook platform but also WhatsApp, Instagram and VR headset maker Oculus gives Mr Zuckerberg a big head start in making this a reality. Collectively, these brands give Facebook an unbeatable number of customer relationships, and all the important knowledge for creating a desirable virtual world: how people behave online, their personalities, likes and dislikes, gait, eye movement and even emotional states.”

Mind you, this is mind-blowing. Imagine a world so real you can easily escape to with a touch of a button, without ever leaving your living room. And you will not be alone, for loved ones are all reduced to life-like avatars in the metaverse, for both general and personal interactions and engagement. (And I don’t know whether we will need to rewrite the rules of morality since you can engage in experimental screw ups in metaverse without much or any accountability/responsibility for your avatar’s actions because it is not real, as far as virtual goes). 

You can also teleport to any place your mind wishes or fancies, and the environment and objects literally respond to you, that is, by sheer force of altered perception, you just can’t tell the difference between what you touch as real in this metaverse and the things/objects in the real world you have been living in for all your life up to the time you enter metaverse (and excitingly, your children’s children would have spent more time in their lifetime in the metaverse than in the real world, right?) 

Daniel wrote: “To help build the metaverse, Facebook's engineers will have to make a success of immersive realism. Imagine a computer game with 2.9 billion avatars and the artificial intelligence that harvests all known information on them.”

Now, imagine your children and your children’s children and their children all sensorially teleport to such a world, such a transcendent world, fully malleable, where you can fulfill your wildest fantasy and hopes, all by a touch of a button, or a few of them. How’s that for heaven? Digital or virtual heaven? It’s Second Life 10.7 right?

But Zuckerberg and FB is not going to do all that for free. You have to pay for it, unlike uploading your photos or videos in the current flat-dimensional FB. There is no free lunch in metaverse. You pay for the meta-experiences. 

In the current FB, he harvests your private data for more targeted advertising to secure astronomical profits. Now, with FB’s metaverse, he, with godlike powers, creates a world you can’t live without and therefore have to pay for it. It is a step up in the way your private data is being secretly collected and then applied to create a make-believe world that you can’t tell the difference from. 

Now, just saying, he is already one of the richest man on earth. Yet, with metaverse, he may just cross a few trillion dollars threshold to be the first (multi-)trillionaire in the world. 

So, Zuckerberg wants more, and metaverse is the way to go to reap in the boundless dough. Here is how he can reap it all in, as Daniel writes: -

“But users might be willing to pay for the enhanced interactivity that will be available in the metaverse, perhaps to enter certain private areas or to do certain things, like teleporting for more than a few minutes at a time or whatever.”

“Mr Zuckerberg has said he believes Facebook will make money from the sale of certain virtual goods and experiences. Will we be paying for the most stylish avatar clothes in future, for example? Or to see the latest movie in a virtual cinema?”

Well, I think I will end here. It is too much of an imagination probably coming true in the near future for one listless morning. You just have to think for yourself what an unregulated alternative world metaverse will be, and what does it mean for our future generation and the world at large. That is, a world controlled by men, if not one man. 

It is truly a babelian achievement reaching beyond the skies, for a taste of omnipotence, omniscience and omnipresence. Zuckerberg truly deserves a standing ovation. 

And if you think handphone is addictive, imagine such a world, where virtual is real, and real is virtual. A world this attractive - because who wants to create a world of pain and suffering, sorrow and grief - you can expect billions to want to pay for everything they own just to get there, live there and die there (I guess the real world would be depopulated for the heavenly world that is metaverse). 

It’s heaven, right? It’s the final redemptive destination we have been believing for. A Xanadu on earth, a Shangri-la forever. 

And thanks to Zuckerberg, he has finally embodied the way, the truth and the life for all of us, common folks, in a coming virtual world we can savour, enjoy and find our own existential purpose in. 

...can’t wait?

 

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.

 

Good Friday Reflection (April 2020)

 

I wonder, what does this day mean to me?

If you don’t know about this day, it can be surmised in three integral narratives. It’s about a man who claims to be God. It’s about a sacrifice driven by unconditional love. And it’s about a life who has endured the worst that this world has prepared for him, yet he overcame all, even death. 

The first part is about faith. The second about love. And the third is hope. 

Fabled tale?

Well, unlike the apostle, the personal witnesses of this nature-defying event thousands of years ago, by the time this narrative comes to us today, it is no doubt already been secondary sources many times over.

 

That is why year in and year out, Good Friday is largely about a recursive message repackaged from the pulpit before a solemn audience. And bless their rejoicing hearts, some churches will try to spruce the message up with theatre, a moving choir, a stunning stage performance, or a musical piece with intimate sound effects at the right intervals.

Still, if you want to relate to the message in a more personal way, you can also view this day as one about an exceptional life, even by the standard of the secular world, that had lived in an exceptional way, that is, against the grain of what we have been taught about success, and notwithstanding the disappointment, pain and deep betrayal, with tears shed like drops of blood, he never gave up, took that road condemned, and cried, “forgive them”, before ending with, “it’s finished”. 

So, if you piece it all together, as a runner, he has completed the race. As a warrior, he has fought the good fight. And as a man who came with nothing, he was raised to be something even up till today we are still reminded of him. 

The world just could not forget. The calendar remembers. He has indeed left a mark called the cross that has given the world a reason to celebrate life and afterlife. 

In fact, I know of a life who has recently left this world at such a young age, yet she had left it in such a way that has given me good reason to celebrate this day in the quietude of my heart. No fanfare. No frills. No theatre. Just a solitary walk of quiet realisation. 

I know her as See Ting. She passed on in February this year. She was only 28. Yet, she had fought the good fight and ran the good race. And she left with this resolution in her heart: “I want to be known as someone who loves well, and is well-loved.” That for me is the essence of the walk of via Dolorosa. 

So if Good Friday has a message, it is in the message of a life that has taken that same road condemned, the furnace fire, and turned it into a celebration not just of life, but of love, faith and hope. And the short life of See Ting borne all that fruit, and so much more. 

You can read about her life in a recent article in Vogue written by Amelia Chia, 31 March 2021. It is a beautiful article in See Ting’s own words. 

And for a glimpse of it, here is what See Ting had to go through at an age when most of us are thinking of career, marriage and family. 

“By the age of 28, (See Ting) had confronted hurdles most of us believe to be untouchable in our youth. 

When she was 20, she was diagnosed with alopecia areata, an autoimmune disorder where deregulation of the immune system leads to an attack on the hair follicles—causing her to lose her hair. 

In 2019, when (See Ting) was 26, she came face to face with triple-negative breast cancer and a subsequent mastectomy. Last year, a couple of months before her 28th birthday, she was dealt life’s final blow. The cancer cells had migrated to her brain, resulting in leptomeningeal disease, which is terminal.”

Despite going through what is unthinkable and most heartbreaking for anyone at that age, or any age, See Ting was still so full of life and even declared this: -

“If left to my flesh, I do feel resentment for the life I’ve been given. There are times when I compare my life behind-the- scenes to others’ highlight reels, but this is my lot and I’ve become a better person after each health episode. I like me a lot more now; my character has been honed through the fire. I’ve learnt not to complain.” 

See Ting added: “I was very real about what faith looks like. I think many times, when people ask, “Oh, you are Christian, everything you just thank God, and thank God, you know, it’s just all fine and dandy.” Being a Christian is like one of the most difficult things...in my life, there’s just a lot of challenges, right? But I would not trade this for anything else, because in this journey, my God has always held my hand.” 

Now that’s faith, a faith that walks in the valley, and at the same time, celebrates at the mountaintop. They are one and the same thing to the one who is brought to the rock that is higher than I. 

Next comes hope. See Ting said: ““Our end destination is heaven. If I don’t see healing come to pass, then it is on the other side. I genuinely believe that we are sojourners passing through this Earth. We are homesick for a place where there is no more pain and suffering.” 

Now, that’s the hope of a believer. That’s the good news in Good Friday. Not an escape hatch, but a life living fully in the present in the shadow of eternity. 

Lastly, love, and love is even more beautiful in See Ting’s life. He comes as Ian Ng. Ian knew the cost, yet in November last year he proposed to her. They met on C&B in Feb 2019 and he stayed with her through all her nights and all her days, until her very last. 

But what is most moving is love overcoming in the midst of an uncertain future. Here is how Amelia wrote about it in the interview: -

“(Ian) decided to stay, but their relationship didn’t begin until (See Ting) resolved her own internal struggles. “I struggled to accept that Ian is a good man and he loves me,” she admits. “A friend told me that when a good man comes along, he will give you no reason to doubt and the only reason to doubt is yourself. Ian never gave me any reason to doubt; I realised it was my own insecurity and past baggage.””

“There’s a different kind of pain when you watch a loved one suffer and you feel helpless,” (See Ting) says, tears welling up in her eyes. “But I saw him dance, praise and entrust my life in God’s hands. He takes the best care of me and loves me more than anything. If God takes me away sooner rather than later, I believe our hope that it’s ‘not goodbye, but see you soon [in heaven]’ will carry Ian through.”

That is love, unconditional and enduring. A love prepared to go through the best and the worst of times. A love that will never leave, in the valley or at the mountaintop.

So, let me end with an encounter, a familiar one. 

“As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. 

But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.””

Indeed, Mary has chosen the better thing; the only thing that epitomises what Good Friday means. It is the same choice See Ting had consistently made, confronting life, at its rawest and its joyous. In all circumstances, she chose the one thing above all. She chose faith, hope and love. She became abetterting. 

And that’s what Good Friday means to me.

 

Good Friday Reflection - Metanoia.

Metanoia. That is what resurrection sunday means to me. 

Meta is “after” and noeo is to reflect, to think deep. After the fact, metanoia compels me to think, to reassess, to change. It is the change of consciousness, radical change though, but a lifetime transition. It is a determined journey, not a half-hearted trek that splits into many directions midway. 

That’s the unassuming resurrection power on Easter, a day of change, a change of heart and soul, spirit and body - the sublime effect of intimate transformation. 

And the Cross is the axis mundi, that is, the connection between heaven and earth, through which a prilgrim may walk pass, like Jacob’s ladder. And this axis mundi is embodied in the words of Jesus, “I am the way, the truth and the life.” 

He is therefore the bridge; not one who stands at the other side and hollers the directions or throws a map over the chasm. But one who joins us in our quest for meaning and purpose, and in the pained journey, ends up inviting us to join him in the defining destination that is Calvary, to witness for ourselves metanoia at its bloodiest, at its most defenceless, at its most profaned. 

That is why CS Lewis said: “A cleft has been opened in the pitiless walls of the world,” and with it we catch a glimpse of that holy intersection between a kingdom the tempter is offering us and the kingdom the one crucified has promised us. Alas, the two worlds often colliding in our struggles to live with meaning and purpose; one world is unrelentingly irresistible and the other is infinitely indispensable. 

But let me just say that the enduring power of his story is not on the day he is risen. And I am not being a wet blanket here, in particular, this wet Easter morning. Its enduring power is however on the day or the many days prior. For no champion worth his weight in gold wins by having the crown handed over to him without fighting for it. 

In other words, he wins it by fighting the good fight, and running the good race. We all know that no race finishes at the starting line. And it is not so much the end that changes the partaker of this race, it is the decision to run it to the end, one persevering step at a time, that metanoia is made complete in our life.

Author Brian Mountford said: “The spiritual and moral heart of the Gospel is expressed not so much in Easter Day as in that goes before. If you haven’t got the message by the time Jesus is nailed to the cross, you’re never going to. In telling the story, our contemporary culture has concentrated on everything being lovely on Easter Day, and decorated it with kitsch - eggs and bunnies - whereas the power of the story is in Jesus’s resilience and integrity as he walks through the valley of the shadow of death.”

Yet, having said all that, the cross and the resurrection do not stand separate and apart. What is one without the other? Like colours and light, you can have the most mesmerising colours in the best combination ever conceivable, but in sheer darkness it lies in waste, denied of sight and appreciation. 

So, truly, the resurrection may celebrate a victory, but focusing on it exclusively makes faith a mirage that can never withstand the siren call of a world the tempter has prepared for us. 

If you need an example, it is no different from one who enters the race hoping for a big break midstream. Very much like the prosperity gospel, he craves after the risen rather than the seed that first falls to the ground and dies. Nothing rises without first being planted. And no seed ever flourishes apart from the good soil. Indeed, anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternity. 

But mind you, focusing exclusively on the cross turns one into a recluse, living a life of an ascetic. For he has left us with one compelling commission and two empowering commandments, not a hermitage for us to hibernate in. What good is then a seed that bears no fruit or a light hidden under the bed where no one is ever guided by it.

Let me bring this to a close to say that Jesus did not come to persuade us with possession or power; neither win us over with fame nor fortune. For didn’t he say that the first shall be the last; the poor shall savour his kingdom; the hungry filled, the weeping laughing, and the persecuted rewarded? 

His message is thus simple enough. He had in fact demonstrated it in the life he had lived. For he is the way, because he journeyed through it; the truth, because he lived it out; and the life, because he had given it up. That is the power of the cross and the resurrection - when the two become one, when colours and light coincide. 

That is also the essence of metanoia, that is, the enduring change that awaits at the foot of Calvary when we partake not just in his overcoming, but also his suffering. And to think of it any lesser is to believe in a form of godliness and not its power, in the appearance of change and not enduring change. 

Indeed, Jim Elliot’s journal entry puts it timelessly: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose." 

Have a restful Easter. Have a victorious week. Have a day of fruitful reflection.

 

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.