Are Singaporean Christians too comfortable? Should that even bother us?
Lemuel Teo
He termed this issue
First-world Christianity—like first-world problems—refers to a myopic focus on our perceived lack and discontent, when we already live in abundance and comfort. It is the focus on our immediate surroundings while the periphery slips into oblivion.
I myself am guilty of being a first-world Christian. I lack awareness of the needs people have in our society, and I’m certainly not doing anything about it.
Often, I fixate only on how much God can bless me, rather than how I can care for the poor or love the broken in His name. Some of my friends regularly volunteer at homes for the elderly, but I haven’t found time or mustered the will to join them. Where global issues are concerned, I’m shamefully ignorant of what’s happening to our brothers and sisters in Christ suffering under immense persecution.
The major crises of today’s world—a possible global recession, the war in Ukraine, other geopolitical tensions, natural disasters—shouldn’t surprise us. After all, Jesus warns us that we will “hear of wars and rumours of wars . . . Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places” (Matthew 24:6–7).
It’s in times like these that we’re often exhorted to pray. I’ve received numerous WhatsApp chain messages from well-meaning friends about the situation in the Middle East and how we can pray for the people there. But I have, sadly, become desensitised to such messages. Over time, the updates sound all too similar. Nothing changes—the situation is always bleak.
Whatever I can do here in Singapore will not amount to anything, so it seems. And in all honesty, that part of the world is in so much turmoil that caring about it would require too much of me.
Myopia on What Matters
Life in Singapore is neat; my responsibilities are clear. All I need to do is focus on working hard, performing in my projects, and serving God in church—a routine I’ve grown accustomed to.
Reflecting on what the social entrepreneur said about first-world Christianity made me realise that I was living recklessly. I’d become so self-absorbed in my familiar routine that I had lost sight of eternity.
My brand of Christianity revolved around personal convenience and comfort.
Going to church was convenient—it was barely 3 km away from home. At cell group meetings, I share what is convenient and deftly omit the messy details. I enjoy the comfort of cushioned seats in an air-conditioned auditorium at worship services. I do my devotions in a comfortable café enveloped by the aroma of roasted coffee beans and toasted baguettes. This is hardly the brand of Christianity presented in the Bible.
A Clear Focus on Christ and Eternity
Around the time I was thinking about these things, a friend posted a hypothetical question at a cell group meeting that caught me completely off-guard:
Would we be able to recognise Jesus if He were to walk on earth again?
Speaking about the end times, Jesus said, “Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Messiah,’ and will deceive many . . . At that time if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Messiah!’ or, ‘There he is!’ do not believe it . . . So if anyone tells you, ‘There he is, out in the wilderness,’ do not go out; or, ‘Here he is, in the inner rooms,’ do not believe it” (Matthew 24:4–5, 23, 26).
Jesus warns that many will claim to be Him. And, many will flock to the “Jesus” they believe to be genuine. Who will I run to? Do I know Him enough to pick Him over the others? Or will my decision be based on who my pastors or the majority choose?
I realised that I had to know Jesus for myself. I needed to take personal responsibility for knowing Jesus, instead of simply depending on the faith of others in my life. On the day He returns, I want to be able to recognise Jesus from far away. I want to know Him better than I know anyone else in the world.
It dawned on me then that I also needed a re-alignment of my brand of Christianity towards the Christianity that Jesus modelled. While He was on earth, Jesus was intimately acquainted with the outcasts of society and the poor in spirit. If He lived in modern-day Singapore, He would be seen talking to prostitutes along the back alleys of Geylang. He would be spending time praying with the lonely uncles at the void deck.
On the other hand, my first-world Christianity has mollycoddled me in a comfortable and familiar bubble—nothing is overly strenuous—contradicting what Paul mandates in 2 Corinthians 5:15 (NLT): “He died for everyone so that those who receive his new life will no longer live for themselves. Instead, they will live for Christ, who died and was raised for them.”
To quote the apostle James, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world” (1:27). As we consider global and local social issues, I hope that my brand of Christianity will be one that’s relevant. I don’t want to be trapped in the bubble of first-world Christianity.
I pray that God will expand my horizons so that I’ll be concerned about the world and its problems, and that I’ll pray for Him to act. I want to explore opportunities to serve the poor and needy around me. All these are small steps to rid myself of first-world Christianity.
Love is a verb. It means action. Let’s not keep Christianity within the confines of our cosy cafés or comfortable churches, but extend Christianity into the underbellies of society, the very places where Jesus himself would go.
This was first published on selah.sg and adapted with permission.
Lemuel loves Hainanese chicken rice, especially the roasted variety. Cycling along the eastern coast of Singapore while watching the sun set rejuvenates his soul. He is dedicated to restoring and building lives to be godly pillars of strength in their communities.
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