Why do you weep at the death of a stranger?

I conclude that people treat the dead better than the living.

MJ died, and sparked off ostentatious demonstrations of grief throughout the world. Even our Hong Lim Park saw an inpromptu wake of some sort, where fans left flowers, little toys and notes. And to what purpose? Was it not the same man who was reviled for his increasingly bizzare behaviour, and whose every lurid detail was lapped up eagerly? The public seemed to have forgotten how they treated him when he was alive. Untimely deaths have the inexplicable power of canonising fallen stars.

But in the same way they devoured the father, the media is going after the children now. It pains me to see MJ's children walking through the gantlet of news vultures, their faces literally masked to protect them from the snapping cameras and intruding microphones. For goodness' sake, just leave them alone to grieve! Aren't there other sources of interesting news?

Why weep at the death of a stranger, when you treat the living so shabbily?

The Big Project

It's so empty that you can hear your voice echo and reverberate through the house. Now we have the pleasant task of filling it up in the most attractive way possible. No interior designer for us, we are going to count on our good taste.

Wondering how much can go into this floor space:

The contractor was disappointed to see how well maintained our resale flat is. This means little work and money for him. Is this standard industry practice? He simply packed us off with a shopping list (go to Sim Siang Choon and Goodrich), and left us to figure out how to buy the correct items. So here we are, trying to measure the fixtures and feeling lost.

U O Me

‘Don’t you know that our government is very rich? The ministers enjoy such a high pay. You are rich too. You are able to enjoy a meal in the air-conditioned food court, while I go from table to table trying to get people to buy my tissues. So what if I grossly overcharge you? You are still rich, and I am still poor.’

I can’t help feeling that this is a common attitude among the poor people I encountered. It would be inhuman to accuse them of being spoilt, but there is always a sense of entitlement that I find baffling. A friend went to help distribute angpows to the residents in one-room flats, and he was asked why the fabulously rich Singapore Government gave a miserly $200 to each person. I suppose, it is only natural to feel that if others are feasting off the fat of the land, surely we too should share the largesse.

Don’t stone me for sounding like Mr. Scrooge. But beyond political correctness, why should the rich acknowledge any obligation to help the poor? Unless the rich have deliberately exploited and oppressed the poor, everyone is responsible for his own plight. Of course, life is unfair, and at some point in time, the course of our life leads us into certain circumstances. A few end up owning restaurants, some become waiters, and still others have to clean toilets. Why do the poor feel that the rich somehow owe them a moral debt because they have a better life?

Of course, no matter how the poor behave, we have the capacity to be generous. And we can afford to overlook the offensive attitudes displayed too. Hence, I still feel that no one should withhold help, just because the recipient isn’t reasonable or sufficiently polite. If nothing else, we can give because of the love of God. It is simply unfortunate that the pleasure of giving is somehow diminished. One never likes to feel taken for granted. Besides it is hard to satisfy the sense of entitlement. How much does one have to give before the aggrieved poor actually feel less deprived?

I can’t possible try to change how they see life, but they cause me to reflect upon my own attitude towards gifts – whether I receive them with a calculating eye or with thanksgiving. If I let go of my expectations, I allow myself to be surprised by blessings. Isn’t it a pleasanter way to give and to receive?

To Men

Dear (Gentle)men,

When women ask for sexual equality, we don't really mean that we want to be treated like men. Do we, in any way, look like members of the same gender to you? Do we have rough skin, hairy arms and thick necks?

Surely you understand that the women liberation movement gathered such force only because there was simply too much mistreatment going on. We don't want to be treated like cattle to be used and bashed according to the masters' will. Women want to be paid the same amount for the same job. And not all women are willing to stay at home after marriage, and what is wrong with that? Don't men appreciate an additional income?

But some men just cannot understand that sexual equality is not the same as anarchy. It doesn't mean that it becomes fine for you to jostle for Mrt seats with us, or elbow past us to get unto the escalator first. And you win because you are 1. bigger 2. taller and 3. very rude. As for those who take the priority seats when there are pregnant ladies around, words fail me.

Of course, you have the right to do these things, just as everyone has the right to be a j*erk, as long as he doesn't break the law, but I would like to think that a knight would be gallant even there isn't any obligation to be so. Even if we ladies have forfeited our claims on chivalry, surely we can ask for a little civility

To Mdm, with regret

I am beginning to wonder if I got my priorities right when I was in school.

I went to a convent school that prided itself for turning out well-groomed, all-rounded little ladies, and so we learnt Art appreciation, Chinese calligraphy, social dance, personal grooming, and various musical instruments. Being a good student, I also did rather well in all kinds of academic subjects, like Chemistry and Biology and Literature.

Nothing,
nothing,
nothing

equipped me with the essential lifeskills though.

One of the most memorable moments during my Home Economics lessons was my teacher screaming at me, 'You numbskull!' I don't really blame her. It must have been really stressful trying to teach butterfingers how to sew, or clean an oven, or make batter. Home Economics lessons went past in a blur, and seriously, teenage girls have other things on their minds you know. We didn't think that one day we are going to be buying utensils, or choosing curtains or doing other matronly tasks like that. no, no, no, my principal told us we were made for great things in life.

And so now, I am doing some revision just in case, but cooking isn't a subject one could simply mug up. I went to look at books with titles like 'Really Simple Dishes', or 'How to Cook Everything Basic', but they don't help much. Problem is, I have no idea what the ingredients listed are. What are caraway seeds...curryway seeds...carryaway seeds? Then, another recipe calls for 'a roasting chicken'. What do they mean? Is it roast chicken, or a raw chicken meant for roasting? Why don't they just write recipes with things you can find in NTUC?

Then Boon One helpfully told me that modern women don't cook. We are too busy. Phew! Ok, that's one problem settled then. But what about the curtains?

Naturally Supernatural

I wasn't expecting this.

I imagined that suddenly, the Red Sea itself would part or the ground would be covered with manna from Heaven.

But what happened was, I discovered that there are many angels around in the form of understanding friends and merciful people.

It isn't magic, but I still think there is something distinctly supernatural the way things are turning out.

I don't really want to say more about what is happening, but if you will, say a little prayer for me.

Miracle

Lord,

I need a miracle today.
The way forward is shrouded in black unknown, but my heart is full of hope, without really knowing why. Maybe a crisis is a good opportunity for miracles. Today is a good day to move mountains.

To Sir, with regret

I just knew that I shouldn’t have walked out of Math class 14 years ago.

It was, as always, an impulsive decision. You were giving us holiday homework, and I felt irked looking at how much there was. So I stood up and told you that I decided to drop out of the class. You were taken aback, and tried to dissuade me, but it was in vain. So, I picked up my bag and stalked out of the class, leaving behind my classmates and you open mouthed. Sigh, what a moment it was, and how much I regretted the moment!

When it comes to mathematics, practice makes perfect. That’s why you gave us all those nasty drills. Since I never bent my will to the discipline, my mathematical faculties steadily atrophied after fateful day. That day in my 3mX3m, it took me a long time to figure out how many zeroes there are in 0.2million. You see, even with a calculator, one needs to know how many zeroes there are in one million in the first place.

Another day, at the money changer’s, I suspiciously asked the man why he gave me a rate that was different from the published one, and he said with a sigh, “Mdm, that’s because I am giving you a better rate!”

And now that I am dealing with numbers bigger than what I am used to, my little mind can hardly comprehend what is happening. But at least now, I understand what compound interest is. Soon, I’ll try to tackle exponential…something…progression? Or is it arithmetic progression? How do installments work, if there is interest to be factored in?

So I have to admit, I wish that I had been a better student in the Math class. Those horrible and abstract concepts are actually needed in real life! Sir, you are utterly justified for trying to make us work harder in Math.

Paradise Found

Yet it was our weaknesses he carried
it was our sorrows that weighed him down...
He was pierced for our transgressions,
crushed for our sins
He was beaten so we might be whole
He was whipped so we might be healed.

I think the chief idea here is redemption.

Of course, the Cross means that our sins are forgiven. We get away with being such awful sinners, and hence we should be properly relieved.

But I think that there is more to redemption than this. I had been puzzled for a long time by these verses. What has sin got to do with sorrows? If the Cross is intended to help us deal with our sins, why does Christ have to bear the sorrows too?

I think redemption means that we receive healing from all the scars caused by our own sins. It is as if we never committed the sins in the first place.

When there is sin, it isn't merely an offence against God, because some law is broken. Every sin wrecks its own damage upon our souls, at the very least, guilt and shame, self-rejection because of what we did. And then there could be anger at those whom we think caused us to sin. Dare I propose that sin hurts us more than it hurts others, and far more than we realise? Even if a sin committed goes unrecorded, we still suffer from the pain of having sinned.

And the Cross enables us to receive healing from others' sins. We live in a fallen world, and a lot of suffering comes from the actions done by other people - harsh words, condemnation and even physical hurt. Sometimes I think that we grieve the most deeply when we are hurt by those we love most. And this pain lingers to torment us long after the real act is over.

Yet Christ enables us to receive healing from all these hurts, to be able to look back at what happened without rancour, for the sake of His love, if nothing else. Hence, the Cross erases more than the penalty of sins. It truly removes ALL the consequences of sins, to enable us to live in a state that is a little more like Eden.

Then, why aren't Christians a happier lot of people? Why do I fret and rage at worldly matters, as if I do not know these truths? My friends, this is because of the lies our minds have come to believe in. After years of conditioned behaviour, it seems impossible to react differently in adverse conditions. We consider these reactions natural. When there is disapointment or heartbreak, we despair. But Christ says, 'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven'. He is telling us that there is a different way to live, and out of the brokenness there is a greater blessing we cannot fathom.

Let me try to remember that, anytime I feel despair, or fear, or anger, I have believed in the old lies again, that I have to despair, to fear, to be angry. But really, I don't. Because if anyone is in Christ, the old is gone and the new has come.

So, this Good Friday is a good time to contemplate what we have been redeemed from.

Contemplating the Cross

It is going to be Good Friday soon. Every year, we Christians gather to contemplate Christ's death on the Cross. Even non-believers vaguely know what this day is intended to commemorate. But, i don't think I fully understand what the Cross really means for our lives.

I spent the past few days trying to think of an entry that would fully explain how our lives should be changed because of the Cross, and the more I think, the less I seem to understand.

Of course, the most immediate result of the Cross is that we, sinners of all ages, are now spared from eternal death, because while the 'wages of sin' is death, it is a price now fully paid for by Christ. Yet, I really suspect that there is something more to redemption than mere acquital from our sins. Otherwise, wouldn't it mean that after accepting Christ, we are just waiting for death that would bring us into the Promised Land. Then, what are we to do in the meantime? Live a stereotypical Christian life? We go to church and try to behave in a reasonably respectable manner, and every time we sin, we confess, and get ourselves acquited, until the next sin.

I really think, that there is more to the Cross than that. I am looking for a richer and more passionate kind of life than this. I want more than respectability. The Bible says that when we receive Christ, we are a 'new Creation', and the old self is dead. What then, does this mean? Are these verses mere poetry that we memorise, to regurgitate at the Pearly Gates when the time comes?

I can feel the answer whirling vaguely around my head, but I can't find the words to pin them down. When I get my act together, there would be another entry on this matter. I am not done yet.