​Matthew 11: 16 – 30.
 
Jesus was speaking about the prophetic declarations of John the Baptist (John 11:2-14), prior to expositing further on the public reactions that John and Himself were facing with their complementary ministries. When their respective messages did not match the preconception of the accepted standards of righteousness, both were rejected and killed. The Lord addressed three notable categories of individuals on their responses: the discontented (Matt 11:16-19), the self-righteous(Matt 11:20-24), and the overwhelmed (Matt 11:25-30).
 
Two groups of children playing among themselves at the marketplace are allegorised by Jesus to illustrate His pointed perspective of how John’s and His personhood were viewed seemingly through the eyes of infantile and irascible children. As an ascetic Nazarite, whose discipline included regular fasting and total abstinence from alcohol, John was deemed by the Jews to be demon possessed. Conversely, when Jesus came, eating and drinking in the company of tax collectors and sinners, He was stigmatised as a drunkard and a gluttonous man. Nevertheless, Jesus pronounced that in hindsight, wisdom will be vindicated by her deeds; viz., John’s call for repentance from the people was a precursor to the arrival of the Son of Man, while Jesus’ ministry to the disadvantaged and the sick, was good news to them. To tease out the confounding attitude reminiscent of petulant children at play is far more disturbing: it portrays an arrogance and cynicism that refuse to countenance what God was doing or to totally discount His work. In our present environment of increasingly antagonistic divergent views towards religion and spirituality, care is required lest we disparage the unobtrusive work of God’s Holy Spirit in lives that profoundly matter to Him. 
 
The second group included those in various towns and villages who were privileged in witnessing the miracles and had heard the word preached by John and Jesus throughout Galilee. These cities would be judged for their appalling indifference and rebellious self-righteousness. Compared to the wealthy pagan cities of Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom, whose citizens would have sought forgiveness for their sins if they were given the opportunity. What is indicative here is the sovereignty of God as expressed in His judgement of the nations where He alone adjudicates according to His will, despite the varying degrees of rebelliousness, sin, including idolatry, where His omniscience enabled Him to know which city would repent and which would not. This bring us to an important point: everyone is accountable and responsible for accepting or rejecting the gospel of Jesus Christ. And in accepting it, we continue to be held responsible for the influence of our spirituality in the workplace and in every sphere of life, where we are called to be the salt of the world and a light set on a hill (Matt 5:13-20). When we abnegate this responsibility through secularising our faith, we leave organizational polity, public policy and the state of our nation at risk to immoral and unethical governance. The unrepentant cities cited by our Lord provides us a model to profoundly impact our small corner of the world. The greater the revelation, the greater will be the accountability.
 
Finally, Jesus walks us through His characterization of ‘the overwhelmed,’ referring to them as ‘children.’ These are those who had embraced the gospel in obedience to the will of God. Why did God hide the gospel from the wise and the intelligent, only to reveal them to children? Childhood is prominently marked in a large measure by their unmitigated dependency on adults, and not leaning on their own limited immature resources, unlike self-confident adults. His work principally among the broken and the downtrodden brings into sharp focus this issue; where they were principally at the mercy of the wealthy and powerful, and the religious elite. When we are unable to save ourselves from sin and eternal damnation in order to satisfy God’s terms for eternal life, our humility in seeking His grace and forgiveness challenges the individualistic predisposition in all of us. In this context, our salvation is totally dependent on the work and grace of our Saviour. Faith as a gift from God is quite distinct from human cleverness when it comes to matters of belief and trusting God. In fact, it is Christ who chooses whom He would reveal His Father to. In one of the most clearly self-declared Christological revelation on His relationship with the Father, Jesus disclosed that the Father had given Him responsibility over everything. The whole created order, in the heavens and on the earth (c.f., John 3:35-36; Col 1:15-20; Heb 1:1-3) had been given over to Christ on the basis of their mutual and yet distinct omniscience and governance, to the extent that ‘no one knows the Son except the Father. Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son wills to reveal Him’ in time and space. Hence, to know the Father is to know the Son, and vice versa! The ‘yoke’ is traditionally interpreted in the context of obedience to Jewish law and teachings. Just like children who are happier whenever boundaries are set for them as they are growing up, our existential spirituality in the here and now within the grace and love of God is enriched by our obedience to the teachings of Scripture. Jesus invites all to come to Him, to enter into a relationship with Him, and to follow Him in discipleship: “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Discipleship demands nothing less than life commitment and a comprehensive self-denial, with a righteousness that penetrates to the inner world of thought and motives.     

​John 21: 4 – 19.
 
Peter’s denial of the Lord at the Praetorium, as predicted by Jesus hours earlier despite his protestations during the last supper, devastated him (Luke 22:31-34; Luke 22:54-62). He had betrayed his vociferous faithfulness and courage to protect his Lord before the other disciples. And now, as the leader of a budding spiritual movement, he lived a haunted life by his last acts prior to the death of its Founder. Despite the glorious news of Jesus’ resurrection, it seemed that Peter had reverted into the backwaters of his fishing profession to escape the guilt of his ignominious behaviour. Would God ever forgive him? The fact is that all of us have sinned in denying our Lord one way or another and had fallen short of God’s glory as Peter had done (Rom 3:23-24). The moral of John’s narrative at the shores of Galilee on that fateful morning is that God’s forgiveness of our sins is only found on the basis of our repentance. How did the resurrected Christ handle Peter’s predicament?
 
Having caught nothing all night, Peter’s fishing trip ended when another disciple identified the voice from the shore instructing them to lower their nets on the starboard side (John 21:1-17). In a jiffy, he jumped overboard and swam to shore, sat down by the charcoal fire, casting his gaze intermittently between his Lord and the fire, attempting to keep warm. They silently consumed their breakfast and yet uncertain how to interpret the sudden meeting with the resurrected Christ. Then Jesus broke the stillness and directly addressed Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?” The question was repeated a further two times to reinforce Peter’s own confession of his unalterable love for his Saviour before his colleagues. It was definitively an object lesson for them as well, since they too deserted Him at his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane. It is pertinent to note that Jesus did not directly confront Peter on his denials, but instead, got to the motivational roots of that behaviour. Was it pride? Cowardice? Disbelief? Self-preservation? When one repents, he looks squarely at the wrong done and takes personal responsibility for it without excuses. Victimhood can never be the basis for our imprudent behaviour. In Peter’s case, God did not beat-around-the-bush when He requires him to repent. Spiritual freedom begins when we accept our culpability.
 
Peter’s deep-seated emotional response to Jesus’ final question, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” was one of deep disappointment, hurt and grief; reminiscent of his own prior betrayal! (Mark 14:72). How did Jesus turn this debilitating awareness of repentance around for Peter? (c.f., 2Cor 7:10). Instead of pointing to his own actions to prove his loyalty as he had done much earlier, Peter deferred to Jesus’ knowledge of him, “Lord, You know everything; You even know whether I love You or not.” Perhaps at long last, Peter has learned that he cannot follow Jesus in his own strength and has realized the hollowness of affirming his own devotion in a way that relies more on his own power of will than on Jesus’ enablement (cf. John 13:36–38; significantly, in response to Jesus’ new love commandment). Likewise, we should soundly distrust our own self-serving pledges of allegiance that betray self-confidence rather than a humble awareness of one’s own limitations. Hence, the repentance that is God-centred is one where we become genuinely distressed and taken up with grieving for our sins that resulted in the cross of Christ but rejoicing at the salvation that proceeded from that once-for-all sacrifice. There is a noteworthy difference between Peter, the fisherman, in the earlier portion of the Gospels (Luke 5:1-11) and Peter, the disciple, in this passage of John’s Gospel. The former was self-absorbed and somewhat independent, while the latter was repentant and knew that he had been ‘crucified with Christ’ (1 Peter 1:13-16; 1 Peter 2:21-25).

​1 Samuel 4 – 7
 
The Philistines and the Israelites in this episode were preparing for battle. Although the youthful Samuel had just been confirmed a prophet (1 Sam 3:19-21), Eli was still effectively Israel’s Judge, and he was possibly instrumental for this encounter with the Philistine army encamped at Aphek. The ensuing battle, with 4,000 Israelites killed, was one of their worst defeats. In a revealing debrief on the battle, the elders’ intuition informed them that God was responsible for their defeat (1 Sam 4:3), but instead of consulting Him, assumptions were made and a counterattack launched, with the ark of the covenant as their standard bearer. Yahweh’s reputation had preceded Him among the Philistines, as they lament their coming defeat in the second combat (1 Sam 4:5-8). However, the Israelites were again crushed and lost another 30,000 men; and surprise, surprise, the Philistines captured their ‘God.’ Eli’s two sons died in the battle, and when news reached him, he fainted and perished too.
 
The ark, since the days of Moses, represented Yahweh’s presence with the people of Israel, and the elders surmised that it’s deployment at the battle front would guarantee their victory, as God would be with them. A fine line had been crossed when His commitment is presumed by His symbolic presence in the ark, without having His face sought and direction approved; and in doing so, the Israelite leaders had treated the ark of the covenant as an ‘idol,’ breaking the 2ndcommandment (Ex 20:4-6). The ark itself could never be an idol, but in their hearts, it became one, as they used it willy-nilly in achieving their objective. God’s presence cannot be at our bidding convenience, and He is much more than is represented by His ark. Furthermore, Eli’s tacit accent for his sons’ use of the ark furthered their unrepentant sinning against God as priests (1 Sam 2:12-17, 22). This attempted manipulation of God resulted in the loss of His presence and in the capture of the ark by the Philistines (1 Sam 4:11; 5:1-2). 
 
The Philistines feared Yahweh, but like the Israelites, their perception of Him was immature. When the ark was in their possession, the typical Middle Eastern mentality was that Dagon had overpowered Yahweh; therefore, the ark was brought into Dagon’s temple as a trophy to him. The next morning, they found the Dagon statue on its face. They sat him upright! The following morning, Dagon was again on his face, and on this occasion, his hands and head were decapitated (1 Sam 5: 3-4). This cultural significance would not have gone unnoticed, as it was a Canaanite practice to sever their enemies’ hands, and sometimes their heads, as an offering to their gods. Despite the removal of the ark out of Ashdod, the Philistine’s capital city, to Gaza, Ashkelon, and then to Gath and Ekron, He visited them with death and tumours for 7 months until it was returned to Israel (1 Sam 6:1-12, 17). 
 
Allowing Yahweh to be God is of the essence in the exercise of our faith; He will not allow any competition in our hearts to take His place when we belong to Him. On the ark’s return at Beth-shemesh, the Israelites were none the wiser in the conduct of their relationship with Yahweh; their removal of the ark’s cover for a curious peek brought about a devastating judgment, and 50,070 perished (1 Sam 6:19-21). Will we ever learn how to relate to a holy God? 
 
After a 20-years’ cold war with the Philistines, the prophet Samuel began to judge Israel, and at his initiative, their relationship with Yahweh began to take centre stage. At Mizpah, led by Samuel, confession, restitution, and restoration followed. Almost immediately, the Philistines attacked but Yahweh routed and subdued them. Israel reclaimed back their territories from Ekron to Gath and there was peace (1 Sam 7:7-14). God will not submit to human manipulation, and He will judge any attempts at it. However, He delights in the heart that seeks to remove all its idols to serve only Him (1 Sam7:3-4).

​Having completed a graduate level in Psychology, a second wind caught me by surprise, as I contemplated a post-graduate course. At the time, the wide range of institutions offering Psychology programmes were dizzying. Then He said, “Have a look at NTU?” As an adult learner, having survived the interview process by two professors, I became the oldest in the class of around 30. The process of delving deeper into psychological issues, and interacting with faculty and students, were refreshing and stimulating. This course of study ran concurrently with holding down a full day job, and looking after my mother at home.
 
My thesis project was on the coping strategies of adults who had been sexually abused as children. My thesis supervisor and examiners informed me that this is the first time a topic on this subject was researched in Singapore. The four principal coping mechanisms pertinent to this study are avoidance, emotional release, disclosure and support seeking, and religion. The victims’ choice of coping strategies depended largely on their family’s attitudes, belief systems, values, dynamics, and the consequences of re-victimization.  This research proved illuminating, given my ongoing management of dissociated patients in similar predicaments then. It was purposefully wide-ranging, and in greater depth, than is customary for a Master’s paper; as I was intent on gaining some precious insights and time-tested treatment strategies elicited by past researchers (not included in detail in my eventual presentation).
 
As they narrated their stories for transcription and coding purposes, the interview phases with each abuse subject proved more complex than usual. Many of them were divulging their traumas for the first time. Subject to various degrees of traumatisation and their frequencies, reactions of amnestic recall of abuse events and recurring dissociation during these dialogues were sudden and alarming. For instance, one person would be transfixed in their seat, literarily frozen for a few seconds and unable to move or utter a single word, with an expression of horror written all over their face; another would suddenly lounged at me in anger, with his arms raised as if he was going to strike me, thinking that I was his abuser. One victim abruptly rose from her chair, screaming and cursing at me, as though I was her uncle who had sexually abused her over several years. Moments after they had calmed down, a number of them had no recollection of their dissociative behaviours. Uncontrolled weeping and trembling were not uncommon among these participants through the course of these interviews. However, the Lord was present as He prompted solutions to calm these eruptions as they occurred. 
 
In this study, most victims suffered in silence since the age of 7 years old, attempting to cope as best as they could with the psychological sequelae of their childhood sexual abuse on their own; with 90% of them revealing their victimisation for the first time in their lives some 15 years later. Almost all their parents never knew of their own children’s horrendous predicament; an unfortunate reflection of our social and cultural mores. Re-victimisation occurred in 80% of the female and 50% of the male respondents. Nearly all the victims were abused by a known male relative or friend of the family, usually an authority figure. 
 
The trajectory of this study and the consequences faced by the patients I had seen remains a heartrending eye-opener for me. It painted a profoundly broken world few of us could consciously contemplate. The human cost in terms of suffering and maimed lives, both involving the perpetrators and their victims, are indicative of our fallenness, and the prevalence of sin within every human psyche (Rom 3: 22-24). Nevertheless, God’s gracious interest in being involved in my sessions suggests His abounding care, concern, and love for these anguished and pain-stricken precious souls, from a tragedy not of their own making. Through countless sessions of therapy, a number were healed and restored, and were able to proceed on with their lives, normalising their relationships with their families, friends, and others around them.