I’m no fan of Thio Li-Ann.  Nonetheless, I find it ironic that the gay-rights activists, many of whom are non-religious or moral relativists, have labelled her "evil" in some way of other.

Good and evil should not exist in the vocabulary of a moral relativist.  There is no absolute "good" or "evil".  Whether something is "good", is relative to what a person personally thinks or believes in.  So why all this unhappiness over why Thio Li-Ann thinks that retention of s 377A is good ? 

(Perhaps there is a valid reason for unhappiness that Parliament has decided to retain the law, or against the majority which Parliament claims supports its retention of the law, but surely every word uttered from the mouth of Thio Li-Ann does not represent Parliament or the majority, so why is all this invective directed specifically against her ?)

Good and evil should not exist in the vocabulary of an atheist either.  There can be good or evil only if there is a God.  If there is no God, then it does not matter whether anything is good or evil, as your belief would simply be that everything in life proceeds randomly and arbitrarily.  If you suffer a misfortune, then you are just another negative statistic in the cosmic balance of probabilities.  However, by labelling Thio Li-Ann as "evil", the very people who claim that there is no God, have conceded that there is a ideal standard of goodness, one which only God can profer.

Does this mean then, that there is a God after all ?

Joyce and I had a long discussion on the repeal s 377A movement when she got back home today.  Our conclusion, quite aside from our personal convictions on the issue. is that the pro-gay activists had severely miscalculated.  By trying to force the issue, they provoked a backlash, ie. the keep s 377A movement.  All this Western-style confrontational parade-my-sexuality-in-your-face tactics, as I’ve mentioned previously, have "given conservatives little assurance that their sensibilities (no matter how insensible or archaic) will be respected".

But we think that it is not just the Christian conservatives, whom gay rights activists are so fond of demonising, that would be upset with a repeal of the law.  Muslims would be upset too, though they are less vocal.  And we would be kidding ourselves if we think that Chinese-speaking heartlander aunties and uncles, who don’t surf the internet and therefore can’t sign onto either the repeal or keep s 377A website petitions, would be happy if the law were repealed - to them it is probably unimaginable for two men to be enaged in a sexual relationship.

The outcome, we think, is a setback for the repeal s 377A movement.  For one, there is greater mistrust.  Now it is also impossible for the repeal to take place quietly sometime in the future.  The conservatives have spoken, because they were forced to, and it is difficult for the Government to ignore that.

Personally I think that one of the many critical requirements that has to be satisfied before s 377A may be repealed, is the support of the institution of the church (quite unlikely), or at least it’s decision not to object to it (slightly less unlikely).  Of course, before that can happen, the church will need a good reason for not objecting to the repeal, without compromising its theological views.  Perhaps, instead of hurling abuse at the church, pro-gay activists should consider constructive dialogue to explore if any "good reason" may be found.

Jed has recently started to call me "pa pa", with a most adorable inflection in his voice.  Sometimes he says it because he wants me to do something for him.  Sometimes he says the words repeatedly for no other reason than, I suppose, the joy of saying or hearing it.  Whatever his reasons, the cry is heart-melting and I am tempted to give him whatever he wants.  I don’t, of course, because I am sometimes too tired to carry him or sing him a song, or because I don’t want to pamper him to excess (to his long term detriment).

Reflecting on this, I ask if our Heavenly Father feels and responds the same way when we pray.  "Which of you fathers", Jesus asked in Luke 11 : 9 - 13,

… if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead ?  Or if he asks for an agg, will give him a scorpian ?  If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him !

The Bible tells us that God feels and responds in the way that a father feels and responds to the cry of his child, and even more, because God has perfect wisdom, benevolence and love, and limitless time, energy and resources.  However, the promises above have, until Jed started calling "pa pa", appeared rather esoteric and inscrutable to me, existing as an abstract rather than a real truth that can be readily experienced.

Now knowing this, here lies the obstacle - I think I’ll have difficulty calling upon and responding to God with the innocence and expectation of a child who calls out to his father, like Jed.  Years of institutionalisation in church, and negative experiences, have made me see and approach God only in a certain way, and not with the child-like innocence and expectation that should ideally characterise the faith of every believer.

Christianity is not as monolithic a faith as many are led to believe.  I suppose many Christians and non-Christians may get the impression of monolithism because they don’t encounter, in depth, more than one or two churches in a lifetime.

Over lunch today, for example, my pastor and several church mates talked about different perspectives on sickness and healing.  One extreme view was that sickness is always the result of personal sin.  Another view was that God sometimes allows Christians to fall sick, as there may be some lessons which He wants them and the people around them to learn (which is, incidentally, my personal view).

However, the diversity of the Christian faith was most clearly demonstrated at a meeting with some external organisations today, where I "rediscovered" a friend whom I had not seen since I left a previous church about ten years ago.  This friend had left the previous church at about the same time as I did, and is now one of the key volunteers with Focus on the Family (Singapore). 

Interestingly, I know of another friend who had also left that previous church at about the same time as the both of us, who is now a key volunteer with a pro-gay interest group, and a key member of a gay-friendly church.

The three of us once worshipped together in a conservative Brethren church.  It is amazing that our theological perspectives have diverged so sharply over ten years despite our common, conservative roots.  One sits at the extreme right with conservative Christians.  The other sits at the extreme left with, might I say, liberal Christians.  As for myself, I think I sit somewhere left-of-centre, a little too liberal I believe Joyce would say for my own good.

(Note : I have, in my lifetime, attended a charismatic megachurch, a conservative Brethren church, a traditional Chinese church, a Chinese / English Presbyterian church and several independent churches).

I’ve been in a somewhat sombre mood in the past week.

I suppose it was partly the work.  Firstly, the overwork. 

And then the yawning reality of helplessness as I wake up fully to the realisation that I’m privy to an ill-considered policy which indirectly consigns people to death.

Finally, looking back at 26 or so years of cumulative disappointment with the church as an institution, I’m crushed by the thought that there are many opportunities in the next 30 plus years for similar disappointments to strike.

Looking ahead, I suppose it could be worse.  That I grieve means God still matters.  That I’m thinking that I might grieve again, while awfully pessimistic, means that I’ve not given up on the church.

An ineffectual policy is one thing.  A policy which achieves the reverse of its intended effect, causing the very harm which it hopes to frustrate, is another, and particularly worrying.

Jed amuses himself by sticking stickers on himself.

… turns another circle.

Reward from the beloved for growing one year older.

Under the religious views row of my Facebook profile, I describe that I’m "Christian - Postmodern", which isn’t entirely true.  I don’t believe that every "truth" is "relative"; I believe that there are certain absolute, inalienable truths though over time I find myself increasingly cynical about what institutions claim to be the truth.  I suppose what matters more to me than the average Christian is an examined faith, though sometimes I wish that like many others I could save myself the grief by settling for something simpler.