Feature
15 Dec 2025
Introduction
There are several common conversational stoppers between parents and their teens, between teachers and their students, or between senior pastors and their youths. For instances, when the young tell the older generation: “Leave us alone. Give us privacy” or “We are already grown up now. We are strong enough and know what to do with our life. Let us do whatever we think best”, intergenerational engagement often ends there.
These comments bring up the issue of one’s privacy and the demand that others respect it. I would like, in this article, to offer a deeper perspective on this issue and an alternative view of what it means to respect one’s privacy.
“Leave us alone”: Privacy as Relational Knowledge
Typically, privacy is understood as “the right to be left alone”. And it fits perfectly to the demand of young people, who would like the freedom to do what they want in their privacy. However, from the theological perspective, I am puzzled by this understanding of privacy as the right to be left alone. After all, in spite of His all-knowing omnipresence, we Christians do not say that God violates our privacy. Why is this the case? Not only do we not see this as an invasion of our privacy, we feel secure in God’s oversight and ask Him to always watch over us.
My puzzlement was resolved when I read the book by Rachel Muers entitled Keeping God’s Silence. She argues that, for God, knowledge is not a matter of property, information, or control, but is viewed as relational and transformational. God’s omniscience does not make Him aloof and detached, but instead it gets Him into the historical actuality of relating to His people. In other words, Muers redefines privacy as relational knowledge. Therefore, following her line of thought, respecting privacy means three things:
(1) Privacy as Responsible Relationship
Sometimes we just want to know about others, but we refuse to be responsible. We desire to establish ourselves as an ultimate knower of good and evil, but refuse the possibility of a caring and responsible relationship. This is not what privacy means in Christ. Instead, let us respect privacy by developing a caring and responsible relationship. We should model our God: He knows everything, but never violates our privacy, because He listens, He answers, He acts with care and responsibility. In other words, respecting privacy means showing commitment to be responsible for one another. It is not simply knowing for the sake of knowing. Can this happen in our intergeneration engagement?
(2) Privacy and God as the “Ultimate Secret”
Privacy also means that the “ultimate secret” of every human being belongs to God. A person is not able to fully know oneself or recognize the “ultimate secret” that makes him or her what he or she is. (Keeping God’s Silence, p. 205) It means not only that we must accept who we are, but also that we cannot fully know ourselves and others, as we do not have full access to these people. Therefore, no one can claim to be able to render complete judgment on themselves and on others.
Ironically, as the ultimate secret belongs to God, respecting privacy means we need one another to illumine that numerous aspects of lives we ourselves cannot see. If we understand privacy in this way, intergenerational engagement will flourish as we learn to respect each other’s privacy.
The Significance of Vulnerability
As we need one another in intergenerational engagement, we do not have to always act strong. The pressure to be strong and unfazed by problems is very great in Singapore. We are pressured to be always in control, to anticipate, and to look good; to be Zen-like. Being vulnerable or “affected by something other” is considered weak. However, I would like to argue that vulnerability is fundamental element, especially in intergenerational relationships.
Why is vulnerability significant for human life? Because it is an irreplaceable dimension of love. First, love requires vulnerability. Only the vulnerable human being can love and be loved. A human being considered by others to be invulnerable, might be admired, respected, or revered, but not truly loved. Faced with someone or something invulnerable, fear is the most likely response. Let us recall that “there is no fear in love” (1 Jn 4:18).
Second, love creates vulnerability in the loving subject (as well as in the one being loved). The common saying is true: “Love is a risky business. There is no guarantee our desire for the other will ever be reciprocated”. There is, in love, an invitation; a proposal, which might be turned down. There is a trust that might be misused. This is not merely a possibility. It is something that happens often. Yet, it is part of the excitement and bliss of love—and its possible sorrow.
Third, vulnerability makes love a necessity in life. For example, when we look at a baby who is unable to do anything for itself, we praise its cuteness and this invites us to love them. The vulnerability of a child provides us with the insight that love is necessary if life is to continue. This is not only true of the child. The daily survival and well-being of every human being depends on the experience of love.
Hence, instead of human independence, vulnerability is a value to be promoted and protected. This is challenging because it goes directly against the grain of the dominant values of security and control that Singapore is obsessed with.
In our intergenerational engagement, let us be deeply affected by one another. Let us not be apathetic or ignorant. Being deeply affected means we could be hurt and disappointed. But let us love anyway.
Lisman Komaladi is former General Secretary of Fellowship of Evangelical Students (FES) Singapore (2008-2020). He now serves as the Regional Secretary of IFES East Asia. He received his theological training from Trinity Theological College and University of St Andrews, Scotland.















