muses

I took a call from an irate member of the public today. I will not give details because that’s not professional, but I will tell you that I broke down in the middle of the call. He just wanted to vent about a certain issue, and he asked if something was fair. I think I lost it there. I said in a quivering voice that the world is not fair. That took him by surprise, I think, and we had a long discourse on some issues, and at one point, he agreed that the world isn’t fair.

Why did I get so worked up by the idea of fairness? Because I’m upset that people expect the world to be fair. I’m no pessimist or fatalist. I would like fairness in this world, but the world can never be fair, and the gentleman was demanding for fairness in an imperfect world, fairness for an issue which was to me an amoral issue, for a trivial matter when there are more important things in this world.

I’m sorry if I offend people with this, but I’m not sorry to say that I think those who think that the world should be fair are immature. And this group of people will surely be sorely disappointed many times in their lives. Look at this world. Look at the Cross and tell me that the world is fair. I can’t. Why should a sinless God die for a world that is so evil? The world would never be fair as long as there’s sin in this world. There’ll always be wrongdoing against man and by man, individuals will get hurt, and people will suffer. What can we do about it?

Humans can’t make this world perfectly fair, but we can better this world. For those who grieve over the un-fairness of this world, we should then ask ourselves  what they can do to make this world more fair. I think I have the responsibility as well. Just simple acts will do. Speak up for the pregnant women standing in the MRT trains. Tell those who cut the queue to line up. Give to the underprivileged. It’s personal social responsibility.

I don’t hate the man for breaking me down. In fact, he had a sense of justice or fairness. He did what he thought was right. He took action. But I can’t help but wonder what he would do when he sees that things don’t improve. Would he lose hope in this world? Would he allow a part of him to die so that his heart is not grieved again? Would he harden his heart because he doesn’t want un-fairness to happen to him? I don’t know. But I know I have hope that one day, God will make all things right, and it’s a right-ness that is indisputable.

One day. Maybe I should pray that that one day will come sooner.

I’m hurt by love. I’ve tried loving someone, but she didn’t respond. I’m disappointed because I thought we were close friends. Perhaps we were, but as a sister mentioned, we lose our instrumentality when we don’t spend as much time with people and our relationship becomes superficial. I guess that’s what happened between us.

As I ached over the hurts and disappointments, I wondered why I even bothered or tried so hard at all. I could have just walked away. I could just love those who are lovable, have the same frequency as me, and less troublesome. And I won’t be hurt. But how different is that from the world? Then it won’t be like Christ at all.

During this month’s Adult Fellowship, as I considered Christ’s love, I realised that if I will continue to hurt if I want to love like Him. He was hurt and disappointed by love too. He was denied and betrayed by those closest to Him. If there’s anyone who knew how I felt, it was Jesus. Somehow, that comforted me, to know that He went through that and understand how I felt.

As my Care Group shared last week about our struggles with loving one another, I am also encouraged. I’m encouraged that despite our failures, we still want to love one another. We shared openly about our handicaps and hindrances, and we prayed hard for one another. We prayed that all may know that we are Christ’s disciples as we love one another. We prayed that we would not be ensnared by the deceits of the evil one. We prayed that we would love with His love, and we know His love because we have experienced it ourselves.

“A new command I [Jesus] give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

John 13:34-35 (NIV)

Biblical prayer is impertinent, persistent, shameless, indecorous. It is more like haggling in an outdoor bazaar than the polite monologues of the church.
Walter Wink

Philip Yancey’s accounts of individuals’ stripped down and candid prayers seemed to contradict what I’ve learnt as a Christian through my church experiences. I learned not to bargain with God because God does not owe us anything. And the prayers I’ve heard at corporate gatherings were always polite, and well, politically correct. Yet, I know that at my lowest points, my prayers were raw in their emotions, in a manner that was almost ‘in God’s face’. And as Yancey pointed out, Abraham and Moses, and even the Psalmists, bargained, argued, and wrestled with God. Abraham argued with God to spare Sodom, whittling the number of righteous men that coukd be found from 50, to 45, 30, 20, then 10. And during last year’s Oct Adult Fellowship session, the speaker got us to read Psalms 78 to 80. These are certainly not your typical ACTS prayers (that means, Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication). The psalmists cried out to God for salvation and deliverance. They dared to ask God ‘why? how long…?’, in a tone that suggests clenched fists shaking in the air. Yet, these were the ones who were engaged with God. They didn’t let go.

I guess I lack the persistence of these ‘God-wrestlers’ to experience God as intimately as they did. Too often I give up too early in my prayers, thinking that God’s answers are ‘nos’. But in doing so, I gave up the opportunity to push my way through and see His face.

Jesus is definitely not a proponent of the maxim, “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.” He doesn’t believe in diversification of risks. He told two parables in Matt 13: 44-46 that  illustrated putting all that you have in one thing:

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.

I can imagine financial consultants shaking their heads after reading this…

But that’s not the point. The point is that the kingdom of heaven is of exceeding value, and worth our every endeavour and cost. But I suppose that’s what makes it so hard to be accepted. It runs contrary to what the world preaches, and the world under-values the kingdom of heaven. But of course, that leaves me to ask myself what I would give for the kingdom of heaven…