​Psalm 1; Matthew 16: 24 – 27
 
In our topsy-turvy world, we are plagued by certain benchmarks that determine success or failure in any endeavour; from the magnitude of one’s enterprise’s profits or pay packet, to the size of another’s congregation or ability to preach and influence, or being admired and getting noticed. Furthermore, as finite beings, our premature judgments are more often based on present appearances without any knowledge or appreciation of a differing future trajectory in the lives we had acknowledged or condemned. Disturbingly, our highly subjective human capacity and unconscious predilection towards biasness make us perennially poor judges of failure and success. The Bible certainly does not invalidate conventional wisdom, but its values are said to be diametrically opposed to many of our worldly conclusions on accomplishment or disappointment. The authoritative, the influential, and the wealthy, do not seem to garner particular adulation within God’s purview, despite exemplary Biblical dignitaries, like Abraham, Joseph, and Joseph of Arimathea, committing their resources toward God’s kingdom (Eccl 5:19; Matt 6:19-21; Matt 19:24; Luke12:33; 1 Tim 6:6-10; 1 Tim 6:17-18; James 5:1). It seemed like God expected them to do so. Instead, His consistent attention had been on the handicapped, the insignificant, and the poor (Lev19: 9-10; Ps 140:12; Mark12:41-44; Luke 1:53; James 2:5) – certainly, within our perspective, not success-oriented entities. 
 
The defining consideration from God’s standpoint, with the resources He has gifted us, is that we are merely His stewards; whatever we possess, whether in terms of talents or wealth, do not belong to us, and we are certainly accountable for how we use them within His economy (1 Chron 29:10-11; Matt 25:14-30). However, our normal human proclivity for possessiveness immediately pits us against the practice of wholehearted servanthood towards others in the discharge of our stewardship - for only with an innate serving mindset could one live such a selfless lifestyle, which constitute Biblical success. Who is then able to measure up to such an unearthly standard? In the Book of Psalms, the psalmist in his first song depicted another aspect of success: where the righteous person is one who delights in God’s laws and meditates on it day and night, and who is wise in his relationships, eschewing those who would compromise his walk with God (Ps 1:1-2). Again, not many are able to appraise themselves righteously in this light!  
 
Judged by God’s standard of success, we fall indelibly short. Thankfully, despite our inclination for discounting the claims of God’s glory on our lives, with the dogged pursuit of our own puny reputation and the tightfisted hoarding of our possessions and resources, we are not disqualified from God’s kingdom. The basis being our salvation through the work of Jesus Christ on the cross, and nothing less, and as a result, we immediately need the fruits of success that He accomplished for us (2 Cor 8: 9; c.f., 2 Cor 8:1-15). What do we mean? 
 
God had glorified Jesus Christ, that every knee will bow, of those in heaven and on earth, and under the earth, thereby exemplifying Him to us through eternity, as the true gauge of success (Phil 2: 5-11). Our accomplishment on earth can never define success, not in the eyes of heaven, as Isaiah had declared that our righteousness is like filthy rages (Is 64: 6). Our position in Christ totally frees us, as we take up our cross and devote the totality of our resources in the service of Christ’s kingdom. Of course, it does not mean that we become dispositional sluggards, but it does mean that we do not become inured to the standards of this world, whether being successful or failures, realizing that our unmitigated hope and boast is in our Lord (2 Cor 10: 12-18). 

Titus 2:1 – 3: 11.
 
It was not unusual for the Apostle Paul to specify Christian responsibilities amid expositing over weighty theological issues in his epistles, as he did so in his Letter to Titus (c.f., 1 Cor 7; Eph 5; 1 Tim 3; 1 Tim 5; 1 Tim 6; Philemon). He went down a nominated list of household roles in his instructions to his disciple Titus. Firstly, to encourage older men to be temperate in the use of wine, reverent and sober in their habits, to be sound in faith and love and patience. Secondly, to exhort the older women to be dignified in their demeanour, to not be scandalmongers or over-addicted to wine, but to be teachers of all that is good, so that they will encourage the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be restrained and chaste, to do their housework and be good and obedient to their husbands, to ensure that the word of God be not brought into disrepute. Titus was to urge the younger men to be thoughtful in all their ways, by his own example of good works, with a purity of doctrine, and respect for everyone, by a wholesomeness in language that is beyond reproach. This would confound their opponents, because they will find nothing bad to say about them. He was to implore the slaves to be perfectly obedient to their masters with satisfactory service, to not contradict them or appropriate things that do not belong to them, and as they are consistent by their good faith, they will be witnesses to their God and their Saviour to their masters. (Titus 2:2-10). These gives us some perspective to the general lifestyle of the ancient Near East at the time.
 
Although, some of Paul’s contextual instructions were pertinent to an era past, they remain acutely relevant to us today. What Paul emphasized was that none are absolved from the cultural, political (Titus 3:1-2), social and familial obligations despite a change in their spiritual status. Undeniably, the Biblical context demands that we discharge whatever duties with the highest level of integrity and righteousness as those who authenticate the glory of our great God and Saviour Jesus Christ (Titus 2:13). 
 
In terms of political responsibilities, Paul was writing at a time when theocratic institutions were inevitably intertwined with their political masters, not unlike Caesar with the pantheon of Roman gods, where no distinction separate religion from the state. When Christ reiterated that we ought to “render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s,” He was emphasizing that His people no longer belonged to an earthly theocracy but a new heavenly community. Nevertheless, we have civil and social obligations to the country we belong, with a proviso that these responsibilities do not contradict God’s laws. Paul was unambiguous in instructing that in the public square, believers’ behavior and attitude should continuously “be obedient, to be ready for every good deed, to malign no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men” (Titus 3:1-2). This is so because the reality of their transformation from their prior state of being “foolish disobedient, deceived, enslaved to lusts and pleasures, spending their life in malice and envy, hateful, hating one another” to Christlikeness is perceptibly transparent to all (Titus 3:3). And the basis for the change was their redemptive and transformative transaction in Christ, being “justified by His grace… and being made heirs according to the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:5-8). Paul was not insensitive to the constant struggle that believers experienced in dying to the self, of laying down one’s will and being obedient to God. Note that it is not an alignment of our will with our Lord’s, but a willing complete capitulation of our will in submission to Yahweh’s (Titus 3:5; c.f., John 12:24-26; Rom 7:14-25). For he who has died is freed from sin… but alive to God in Christ Jesus (Rom 6:1-14). 
 
Tugged at the end of Paul’s Epistle was his advice on church discipline over heresy with issues regarding the Law (Titus 3:9-11). Paul’s concern was with rebellious Cretan teachers who were engaging in theological enquiries that were frivolous, genealogical debates that were speculative, and disagreements over the Torah. Titus was advised not to engage in these fruitless debates, but to warn the perpetrator who was causing fractions in the community with corrective measures in mind. This was in line with Jesus’ teaching (Matt 18:15-17), but when such an offender of ethical or doctrinal error refused to change, he had condemned himself and ought to be put out of the congregation (c.f., 1 Cor 5; 1 Tim 1:1-11; 1 John 4:1-6). 

John 2: 1 – 11
 
It is intriguing that our Lord Jesus’ first miracle has nothing to do with healing a soul or raising the dead, or perhaps subduing the elements, but was at a wedding feast facing a catering fiasco. Although no miracle can be said to be ordinary, changing water into choice wine seemed counter-intuitive. However, this is not to discount the importance of a feat of this nature in a close-knit rural community. Usually, these traditional celebrations are large and important affairs, lasting several days, and free-flowing wine is expected throughout the festivities. To run out of it prematurely would be disastrous and a disgrace to the host. Mary, Jesus’ mother, discovered the shortfall and spoke quietly with her Son, and although there was some hesitation initially, He stepped into the gap and saved His friend a whole lot of embarrassment. However, did His initial retort to His mother indicate that He was on a different wavelength at the time? (Jn 2:4). Perhaps, there is much more going on here, on a closer reading of the narrative.
 
It is insightful that Mary was confident that her Son was capable of pulling off a miracle (Jn 2:5), even though very little is said in Scripture about Jesus’ growing up years and His out-of-this-world’s prowess. Rather than using the many wine jars sitting around empty, Jesus chose to have six ceremonial purification jars (about 150 gallons in total) refilled with water. Was this a symbolic outcome of what He had been contemplating on earlier? Within the delightful context of the ongoing nuptial revelry, Jesus would likely be thinking about the future marriage supper of the Lamb (Rev 19:7-10; cf., Jn 3:27-30). Is it possible to read more into this incident in conjunction with ‘the hour’ that has not yet come, which could address the context of His own death. In which case, the wine in Biblical setting represents the Lamb’s blood (1 Cor 10:16; Is 61:10; Jn 6:53-55; 1 Cor 11:23-32; cf., Eph 5:25-27). He changed the water into wine, and in the process elevated the groom’s esteem for the quality wine now being served. And not unlike the new life in Christ that we possess, everything pertaining to it had been accomplished on our behalf through His death and resurrection, and nothing more can be added to what our Saviour had achieved because He loves us (Rom 5:12-21). He is definitively the Lord of Life and of the Feast (cf., Lev 17:11). John, who was possibly at the banquet, and the only writer of the four Gospels to mention this incident, did not explain further, but just said in hindsight that this miracle was to manifest His glory and to reveal Himself to His disciples (Jn 2:2-4, 11). 
 
At Cana of Galilee, almost anonymously (Jn 2:8-10), we catch a glimpse of the gracious largesse of our Saviour, as He demonstrated His glorious identity as the almighty Lord through this first public miracle, in the simplicity of meeting down-to-earth needs, and inadvertently, revealing Himself to John, and His other disciples who were at the feast. Was John, the author of the Book of Revelation, the only one who understood, in retrospect, the symbolism of the archetypal Bridegroom of the Church, lovingly embracing life as celebrative of God’s love for the lost at this banquet? And what a feast that will be!

Compassion is a central Christian trait as it reflects God’s own defining character. In the Old Testament, God reveals himself as compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in loving devotion and truth (Ex 34:6; Ps 103: 13; Ps 145: 8-9; Lam 3: 22-23). This divine compassion extends to the whole human race in both temporal care and eternal salvation. In the Gospels, Jesus is repeatedly moved with compassion for the sick, the hungry, and the lost, responding by healing, feeding, and teaching them (Matt 9:36; Matt 15: 32; Mark 6:34). His parables, especially the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son, portray compassionate action as the true fulfilment of love of neighbour and the revelation of the Father’s heart. It is not just feeling sorry for someone, but a movement of the heart that leads to concrete, self-giving action for the good of the other. Compassion, therefore, is a virtue that images God, expresses faith, and works through love in our consistent daily relations with others (Eph 4:32; Col 3: 12-13; 2Cor 1: 3-4). In this sense, compassion is a habit of active mercy, ordered toward justice and the neighbour’s flourishing. 
 
Nevertheless, it is not surprising to encounter the cut-and-thrust of social interactions, especially among business circles, where compassion and grace are grossly lacking. Unfortunately, this attitude has seeped into church life, when we overlook the intrinsic factor of believers as part of the Body of Christ (c.f., 1 Cor 12: 12-27); where literarily, the Christ in me is the Christ in you! Our dealings with each other in Christ have profound repercussions impacting our testimony to the material and spiritual realms. However, this side of heaven, the church on earth is never perfect, populated by fallen but ‘saved’ beings, who are themselves work-in-progress and still being moulded by His Holy Spirit to be like our Saviour and Lord. Hence, relationships among believers are far from flawless. Besides, it is always a temptation to emulate and prefer man rather than God; which remains a grave human failing. Nevertheless, we ought to look to our Lord Jesus as our exemplar (c.f., Heb 12:2), thereby relating with each other as we relate to Christ. 
 
As the church-wide human resource cost-cutting measure was announced one morning, a pall of silence fell over the staff gathering – you could literally hear a pin drop! Sitting at the back of the room, a former civil service high flyer who became a pastor, turned around and presciently whispered, “Gerald, I have no confidence in the leadership to appropriately carry out this retrenchment exercise.” As the briefing ended, my immediate thought was, “Lord, what are all these faithful and diligent workers thinking and feeling with Damocles’ sword dangling over their heads?” Suddenly and unexpectantly, I felt ‘a knife plunged into my back.’ The pain was excruciating! I choked and teared instantaneously; quickly leaving the room. One of the pastors closest to me, followed me, and we found an empty meeting room. I sat down and wept until the pain subsided. A wanton sense of betrayal lingered on throughout the week. 
 
During the next month, dozens of pastoral staff (including a few who were recently ordained) were summarily dismissed; they were made to submit their resignations. At least one person, I knew, was forced to backdate his resignation letter. Retrenchment benefits were, therefore, never mooted. No follow-up supportive guidance or advice were offered by the leadership or the personnel department. Some of those who continued to attend services were treated as non-persons! It was an indictment on the lack of Christian compassion and grace by a church. 
 
On the quiet, I spent the next agonising months following-up with a handful of those who had left. It was unprecedented for me to give in to a difficult task at hand, but these personnel firings, and their repercussions down the line, distressed me intensely. Attempts to provide feedback to senior leadership on the outcome of the downsizing exercise  were rebuffed. I was instructed to keep quiet! Twelve months later, unable to turn a blind eye to what had happened, a concluding conversation began: “Lord, I cannot bear to be in this environment much longer. Its taking an incalculable toll on my mental health. Am I allowed to leave this behind and move on?” Straightaway, He replied: “Go ahead Gerald. In three days’ time, I have another job lined up for you.” After ten years of service, I put in my notice. In this church today, the whole leadership personnel have changed.
 
Three days after I left, I was contacted by another large church for an interview. It was a difficult dialogue, as the two senior pastors knew each other well. Unknown to me at the time, there was a more qualified candidate from my previous church, applying for the same position. A day after the interview, I was offered the job as a senior counsellor. It was with much joy that I served in this church for the next ten years as God’s continuing grace and wisdom enabled me to hone my knowledge and skills in managing patients suffering from schizophrenia, dissociation, trauma and other clinical issues.