Most mornings I sit in the living room or on the deck beside it. The view is northwards, looking out over Tanglin, the Botanical Gardens, and towards Johor Bahru and Malaysia. While the image of Singapore for many is hot and humid, my view in the shade is cool with a gentle breeze. Two immediate buildings stand out – the embassies of Brunei and Britain. I know there are more embassies hidden in the trees looking north.
The touch of the breeze, refreshing and easy on the heart, is conducive to seeing with clear eyes. Each embassy is a small piece of the country it represents. There is an agreement that the soil is governed as if it is the country itself. I realize that the small country I live in has elements of almost eighty nations within its borders.
I wonder what it would be like if each embassy behaved in all ways like Singapore. The procedures, languages, staff, attitude, and approach reflected Singaporeans. The embassy would be many things, many different from the present. At its core, it would no longer be what its name implied. The British embassy would respect the Queen but nothing more. The Indian High Commission would be efficient, clean, and organized. Even Brunei Embassy would change. It would be strictly for business; the Sultan would need to call somewhere else home.
The reflection takes me to the part within me that God calls home. Divinity has a sacred place within me. In that space, what is true about God is also true here in a small tangible way. Divinity exists, doing God-stuff, or otherwise it is my space. The thought extends into an awareness that “If corpses can’t be raised, then Christ wasn’t, because he was indeed dead,” (1 Corinthians 15.16) and does not have residence within me. When God is alive and in me, the stuff and actions of Divinity follows.
While I know some embassies in Singapore cannot provide all services, they still act as an embassy. I want others to experience the divinity that is within me.
