In Deep Darkness, A Debtor to Mercy Alone

buoyed between open sea and ocean-floor, aimless limbs flail in empty water. the siren call of an underwater kingdom to slip off and sink further beneath. beyond where dappled sunbeams play on coral pastures in colours too friendly for life; below where the crackling of the unknown silences the crash of crude waves. in deep darkness where there will be neither salty tears nor sweet nothings, the tiresome bubbling of human breath may finally be stilled. and then will come rest: a graveyard of self, a dependence on mercy alone.

Another Tioman Trip feat. Encouragement

washed out*

At the end of a week that didn't seem like it would ever end, there was Pulau Tioman. The Paya Beach Resort bit of Tioman Island wasn't spectacularly pretty. Its kampung feel was slightly on the more rundown side of charmingly rustic.

The sand on its beach was dark yellow and rough, but the water clear enough to gaze at corals and fishes while sitting on the railings and chatting at the jetty.

Tioman time is relative, said the Chinese cze char resto owner as he brought out more complimentary Tsingtao beer for the FIFA World Cup 2010 Germany vs Serbia match, 大家都走得很慢.

And it seemed that lazy hot childhoods were spent fishing with a bit of bread, a hook and a line,

or fooling around on a surfboard and waving goodbye to divers going out to sea (sometimes, the goodbye is forever, as we found out from the boatman while idling off Pulau Labas, waiting for people who had gone on their second dive to emerge from underwater tunnels. A few days ago, a girl died after falling from the upper deck of a boat on the way back from a snorkelling trip. Last year, a Japanese woman was killed by a boat's propeller as she was surfacing from a dive - the dive master had come up first and put up the sausage but there were three divers from the group who had yet to surface (this report tells a different story). There was another fatal incident involving falling from a boat that had been rocked by a strong wave at the jetty, a lifejacket and another running propeller...)

or over an old checkers board with plastic bottle caps.

The free breakfast was decent enough. The sausages that were more starch than meat were fed to the many cats moseying around for a free bite.

Lunches of Special King Beefs (Ramli burgers with two beef patties wrapped in egg) at Sunrise Cafe barely lasted us till dinner.

For dinner, there was the choice of edible cze char to the right of the jetty

or good barbecued seafood, and buckets of duty-free beer to wash down satay and otah at the resort.

And we had plenty of time to check out the snacks while waiting for the 11.00am ferry that finally arrived at 2.00pm after being stopped by the marine police for a spot-check.

It was good to be in the midst of people reading good books - the Good Book (someone started reading from Genesis and was at the Book of Esther by the time we got to Tanjong Gemuk), Mark Ashton's Christian Youth Ministry (that got passed round a bit), a book on finishing the Christian race well, and spontaneously gossiping the gospel (no pulpit nagging repeatedly quoting The Great Commission necessary). A bit of rest after two weeks of little sleep, dealing (not successfully) with my own irritation at people not bothering to be organised enough or selfless enough to make the most of gospel opportunities and even sabotaging such times, frustration at energy and time expended on things for the tummy and not eternal things etc etc

Truly God is is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it (1 Corinthians 10:13).

Until the end of the age, there will exist that tension between human responsibility and God's sovereignty; we must do all we can to preach salvation, yet we must never put our confidence in our work or make idols of our schemes. As David Jackman puts it,"...our business is growing...but only God gives the increase..."

On Christ the solid Rock i stand,
All other ground is sinking sand

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To get to Paya Beach Resort:

• coach from DFS Orchard, Singapore to Tanjung Gemuk, Malaysia (via various bus operators)
• purchase ferry tickets from Tanjung Gemuk to Pulau Tioman
  

And don't forget to pay your Tioman Island Marine Park fee. Keep the receipt at all times in case the ubiquitous marine police pull you over for a spot-check.


At Paya Beach Resort, snorkel gear can be rented from this bald dude, and diving equipment from the Dive Cove and say hi to Funny while you're there.


I be liking this mask.


So much more to see!

*all photos by iPhone 3GS + Tiltshift or Crossprocess or Swankolab + PSMobile. Interestingly, one of my photos will hanging around the Schlechtriem Brothers Gallery in Berlin Mitte as part of the chosen 144 (not thousand) in the EYE'EM Award 2010.

Wake Up To A Day In Tioman

C'est magnifique.

40 minutes away from Singapore's Seletar Airport by Berjaya Air's 48-seater Dash 7s are the white beaches and azure waters of Tioman Island, gleaming off the East coast of Malaysia. The days were nothing less than hot and sunny right through. Unusual, we were told, for a monsoon season.

The tide was high in the mornings, good for sand in the underpants before breakfast (doing our bit for the Singapore construction industry, no doubt), smiling in sunnies and straw hats, the excitement of suntan oil on hot skin, swimming snorkelling with fishes, giving a wide berth to sea urchins clustered about like sea mines, and diving whilst beset by jellyfish. And also for chapped lips from one regulator too many in the gob.

At Renggis Island, where underwater visibility was excellent though surface current was strong, a vibrant reef system spread out its colourful wares in glorious magnanimity. I proved to be a clumsy oaf amongst the dense nimble schools of Scissortail Sergeants (closely followed by crescent warusses) who came alongside for a look and a peck on the goggles, then left me far behind with a few nonchalant swishes of the tail. Small sting rays fluttered along the seabed, countless clownfish(?) flirted with the corals, and everywhere swam silver and bluefaced angelfish, butterflyfish, yellow pufferfish, rather stonyfaced groupas, golden trevally escorts, gaudy napoleanfish...As Faithless said (but in a completely different context) so much more than I thought this world could ever contain. The dive centre enthused about Boris the barracuda who was resident in those parts, but didn't see a fin of him.

Drowsy afternoons, when the tide was low, were for alternately lapping in the pool and reading and throwing frisbees on the beach. One day, we managed to rouse ourselves enough for a speedboat sea taxi to Salang, where there were 3 dive centres, monitor lizards lounging in the river, milkshakes and fruit juices at Salang Dreams Café and passable fare from the little Ramly burger hut nextdoor.

Nights were for being "deceived, by trees!", and beers (yay, dutyfree island) and seafood dinners at Barbura Seafood Restaurant, next to the black nothingness of the wide calm sea. There, cats curled round your shins in calm lazy search of a scrap of black pepper crab, and ravenousness sated, you were welcome to lie back on the weathered planks outside and gaze up at the glistening constellations above, unknowable lightyears away, the twinkling, perhaps, of now-dead stars.

"Look," said someone,"is that an airplane there, under the moon?"
"No lah. It's the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven. With flashing lights."

Some nights, there were also arcade games and countless rounds of pool and karaoke (all before the clock struck 2 in the morning).

Public karaoke sessions in rank smoky bars meant loads of drinks, Swedish girls singing ABBA, German boys whopping La Bamba, crazy dancing to Senggol-senggolan, drunk boorish Teutonic retirees befuddledly blocking the karaoke screen, and trying to shake a particularly sticky dance cover of Moonlight Shadow (Shadow) out of our ears.

After karaoke, the party continued into the early hours on the edge of the cliff, courtesy of makeshift stalls touting murtabak, satay, and roti john for supper, teh tarik for a washdown, a strolling Filipino band with a vast repertoire, and an enthusiastic crowd of pop-collared frat boys and girls living up their year out.

And we cannot forget this: departing from the tiny Tioman airport, someone went in search of ice-cream and managed to return with a 1-litre bottle of Glenmorangie.

Trust John Piper for a pithy quote (though his theology is, at times, vague and therefore questionable). This one, purportedly from "In The Godward Life", has been making its rounds:

Jesus Christ is refreshing, but flight from him into Christless leisure makes the soul parched. At first it may feel like freedom and fun to skimp on prayer and neglect the Word, but then we pay: shallowness, powerlessness, vulnerability to sin, preoccupation with trifles, superficial relationships, and a frightening loss of interest in worship and the things of the Spirit.

Thank God for the luxury of time out to catch up on sleep, faff about, and think clearly away from the muddied hustling and bustling, and to get my bearings right and home in on his kingdom. It sux arse to, in the clearing air, gaze upon the continued corruption of my own sinfulness. But sin is sin and there is no excuse of exhaustion or self-righteousness for what is ultimately rebellion against God.

Thank God salvation is by grace and not works! How completely undeserved it is.

Thank God, also, for his kingdom that is infinitely and vastly more than me and my timeout; his vast ordered kingdom chugging along to fulfilment in human history which is ultimately to his glory, for who else is worthy of such majesty?

O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.
Out of the mouth of babes and infants,
you have established strength because of your foes,
to still the enemy and the avenger.

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?

Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
you have put all things under his feet,
all sheep and oxen,
and also the beasts of the field,
the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,
whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth! (Psalm 8)

Not meant to be a naff inspirational pic

(In other news, David Jackman will be back in Singapore this year for Project Timothy's Ministry Matters. Details here.)

Trip-Hop for a Trip, Bad Boys Stay Sharp To The Bottom of the Glass and The Wandering Stars of Luke 11:33 - 12:3

Warning: Boring conference calls cause inane doodling and the making of packing lists*

Tasked with providing the mix tape for our dive trip, and under duress to avoid all things "noisy" (goodbye pierced punk derivatives, nice knowing you indie striped cardigans), dug out an old stash of trip-hop.

(Massive Attack? Your bass looks phat in that.
Tricky: what are they - Stomp cast-offs? I love you man, but too industrial for this gig.
Thievery Corporation? Wait over there and we'll have a look at you. Unless of course, you've got you some lovely downtempo bossa nova and a pinch of dub, then you can go right in.
Woocha Zero 7. Bring on the Salt Water Sound.
Hey, aren't there any ambient popsicles around here?
Non, not you, Hotel Costes.
Oh, sorry to trip over you, Brian Eno. Didn't notice you there.)

Revisiting nostalgia. Music from a previous life of post-clubbing lounging; of post-midnight English urbanity; of the camaraderie of university halls; of dismantling smoke detectors in rooms; of Marmite toast and sipping gin and tonic from teacups and bantering Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, swathed in a swirls of smoke; and, when everyone else had fallen asleep on couches and beds and carpets, of being wide-awake and gobsmacked by the wonderment of Portishead's sonic noir, whisky abandoned in a dirty snifter, spellbound till the dark magic dissipated with the dawning light.

Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved, the blackness of darkness, forever. (Portishead, Dummy: Wandering Star, also Jude 13. There is no magic at all in this Wandering Star youtube snippet. "Etoiles vagabondes" indeed. Heh.)

A lifetime ago, a description embraced with fatalistic identification. Now, total anathema.

However.

Because the season for terrible-tasting heart-shaped chocolates was upon us, we were discussing the reasonableness of a S$100,000 diamond ring if amortised over 70 years of marriage and the cheesiness of the plots of romantic sitcoms: usually, girl who loves a bad boy; a bad boy who pretends to love the girl but actually uses and abuses her; and a good boy who waits in the wings, nursing true but unrequited love. In a feel-good show, the girl gets clued in and rides into the sunset with the good boy. (In an arty show, the ending is postmodernishly vague and the fate of the three characters, unknown.)

A dozen eyes rolled at the blatant unrealism of it all: surely, if she'd known she wouldn't have gone with him!

Yet, whole branches of criminal and family law and psychology are fed by the fact that human beings (and not just those in Stockholm), when faced with a choice between the obviously harmful and the patently beneficial, will sometimes, illogically, choose to remain in an abusive relationship.

Similarly, despite overwhelming and conclusive historical and internally corroborative evidence, when faced with the choice to remain in God's judgement and the assurance of eternal death or to trust in Jesus' death to save us from God's wrath, many people baulk at the latter and choose to remain on course for eternal misery. The silly reason for this demonstrative lack of the self-preservative instinct?

people loved the darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil. For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed. (John 3:19-20)

But the mere perambulation into the light is hardly effective. If the eyes are unhealthy, the body will still be full of darkness. (Luke 11:33 - 12:3). Woe to us who call on the Lord's name but do not rightly perceive Jesus, who is the light, and do not allow the truth of his words permeate our lives, and still look back with illogical nostalgia upon our pagan days of yore, like the Israelites complaining against God in the desert; living lives that are Christ-flavoured not Christ-centred; attaching ourselves him, because, for at least a little while, it is interesting to attach oneself to a celebrity:

Now I want to remind you, although you once fully knew it, that Jesus, who saved a people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed those who did not believe. And the angels who did not stay within their own position of authority, but left their proper dwelling, he has kept in eternal chains under gloomy darkness until the judgement of the great day - just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire.

Yet in like manner these [false teachers]...blaspheme all that they do not understand, and they are destroyed by all that they, like unreasoning animals, understand instinctively. Woe to them! For they walked in the way of Cain and abandoned themselves for the sake of gain to Balaam's error and perished in Korah's rebellion. These are blemishes on your love feasts, as they feast with you without fear, looking after themselves; waterless clouds, swept along by winds; fruitless trees in late autumn, twice dead, uprooted; wild waves of the sea, casting up the foam of their own shame; wandering stars, for whom the gloom of utter darkness has been reserved forever.

It was also about these that Enoch, the seventh from Adam, prophesied, saying, "Behold, the Lord came with ten thousands of his holy ones, to execute judgement on all and to convict all the ungodly of all their deeds of ungodliness that they have committed in such an ungodly way, and of all the harsh things that ungodly sinners have spoken against him." These are grumblers, malcontents, following their own sinful desires; they are loud-mouthed boasters, showing favouritism to gain advantage.

But you must remember, beloved, the predictions of the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ. They said to you, "In the last time there will be scoffers, following their own ungodly passions." It is these who cause divisions, worldly people, devoid of the Spirit. But you, beloved, build yourselves up in your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt; save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh.

Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen. (Jude 1:5-25)

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* in case of a complete washout, we will also have in our backpacks: Immanuel Kant, David Hume, Alasdair MacIntyre, Iris Murdoch, Mary Midgley, JC Ryle and...err...David Sedaris and TS Eliot. Best.
** ironically, Zouk generously handed me two acoustic Faithless angpows tonight: the "Greatest Hits" DVD and "To All New Arrivals". "God is a DJ"? Hmm.