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Philippians 2: 1 – 11.
Humility and the human spiritual condition are inextricably interconnected. In fallen humanity, they become mutually exclusive, habitually confounding genuine obedience with superficial conformity; profoundly confronting our behavioural inconsistencies through our insecurities toward individualism and subterfuge. Nevertheless, the Apostle Paul urged the Philippian believers to adopt the same attitude in humble obedience as did their Exemplar, Jesus Christ, when He became man (Phil 2:6-11); to lay aside their self-interest, to stop complaining, and to work together for the sake of the gospel (Phil 2:3). When pride is the consequence of our reputation, the toxic self invariably corrupts all relationships, including those within the church community and with God too (Phil 2:2-4). What is the Apostle’s antidote for our self-centredness? Paul’s solution for the Philippian church was totally counter-cultural; to be humble was generally denigrated in Greco-Roman society and relegated only to slaves (c.f., Matt 5:5; Matt 11:29-30; Eph 2:8-9). Hence, humility is perpetually at odds with an ego obsessed by his insatiable desire to inflate his self-esteem. In such a predicament, it would not be abnormal for a self-absorbed person to be perpetually cynical and customarily disparaging others in his interactions; contrary to the Apostle’s refrain to regarding others more important than oneself (Phil 2:3). Pride possesses a self-blinding effect, and a proud heart is incapable of identifying with the downtrodden and the needy, as their opinionated selves ensure that their views, decisions and interests come first, in preference to those of others (Phil 2:4). The passion to succeed and excel is not altogether reprehensible, but when it is at the expense of everything and everyone else, it usually reveals a deep-seated need for approval seeking and recognition from among one’s peers. Such a willful pursuit usually implies an unconscious desire to over-compensate for one’s insecurity with a show of self-importance, pomposity, narcissism and snobbery. Genuine humility is the attitude of counting all things as loss for the sake of knowing Christ (Phil 3:7). Perhaps the pertinent question ought to be “Why do we want to be humble?” Humility is a slippery virtue and any attempts to directly work at it would undeviatingly surface pride. In this respect, the Apostle Paul pointed us to Christ, in His archetypal selfless journey towards being exalted by God (Phil 2:5-11). In this grand hymn to our Saviour, the pathway towards humility steers us towards an unshakable desire to be like Jesus; who did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself… of His glory… by taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men… humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death (c.f., Isa 53). The clarity presented by the gospel is indisputable - our humility is only found in Christ as we die to ourselves; with absolutely no regard to our reputation (Rom 6:1-11; c.f., 1Cor 6:19-20). Hence, in Christian parlance, humility is expressed through the presence of the Lord in us. For it is only in that humble state that obedience to our Creator can be facilitated. Without it, it would be impossible to be a faithful follower of Christ. Therefore, humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time (1Peter 5:6-11).
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Psalm 40.
The circumstances under which King David penned this Psalm is unknown, although some commentators had speculated that it was likely written during the monarchical period when the King experienced divine deliverance from a crisis in the past and was praying in the midst of a renewed calamity. The past event alluded to was David regaining his throne following Absalom’s usurpation (Ps 40:4 and Psalm 40:14). The theme of the Psalm is revealed in the first verse: doing God’s will at times requires us to wait patiently. However, contrary to the standard translation, David’s testimony on waiting for God to come to his aid in an intolerable situation was characterised by a prolonged persevering belief (i.e., ‘an expectant longing’ with the emphatic double qawwoh qiwwiti; Ps 40:2). And as though he suddenly found observers witnessing his new redemptive song, he publicly declared his thanksgiving and praised God (Ps 40:2-3). God’s gracious liberation was not missed by King David as he was entirely cognisant of how intertwined his life was with what Yahweh had planned for His people and nation despite their unfaithfulness. Our trust and faith in God is in direct contrast to the reality of God’s sovereignty in our lives, and hence, moderated by our deep-rooted idolatrous propensity. King David reiterated a similar sentiment for his onlookers, that their dependence on pride and entities or objects that offer them a false sense of security would erode their confidence in Yahweh (Ps 40:4). Then David turned his attention away from his listeners and addressed his Creator (Ps 40:5-17). His high view of allowing God to be God speaks volumes about his understanding of his role as a sinner in his Master’s economy; for the simple fact that he knew that his name had been written in the scroll of the book (c.f., the Book of Life, Rev 3:5; Rev 21:27). Its implication did not escape King David’s convictions: the evidence of the Almighty God’s numerous blessed thoughts towards him throughout his life’s circumstances (Ps 40:5, 7; c.f., Ps 139:13-16; James 1:17; Heb 13:8), and the only way he could have known that was a unambiguous relationship with his Lord. What was David’s response to God’s faithfulness to him? Although religious obligations were necessary, he knew they were insufficient (Ps 40:6), and what was required was ‘a pierced ear,’ an attitude of permanent servanthood that recognises God’s voice immediately to do His will (Ps 40:6, 8; c.f., Ex 21:2-6; Heb 10:1-10). Here, David modelled for us by dedicating himself to obey God unconditionally (Rom 12 1-2). Out of that irreversible commitment comes an unflinching proclamation - a very public witness to God’s truth in His faithfulness and righteousness (Ps 40:9-10). In this subsequent segment, King David petitioned God for assistance on a current intractable issue (Ps 40:11-17). First he pleads for forgiveness over his own sins. The fact of the matter is that as we become more aware of God’s holiness, our own sense of sinfulness and depravity become more pronounced, but by God’s grace, He comforts us as our human failings and vices increasingly haunt us (Ps 40:12-13). Besides, apart from the fact that He is fully aware of our enemies’ unjustified accusations and threats to our life, Yahweh is also able to deliver us (Ps 40:13-15). David was eventually assured that those who sought the Lord’s salvation would rejoice in His greatness, magnifying Him to all (Ps 40:16). In conclusion, because God is God, He is to be trusted in His faithfulness towards those who eternally belong to Him. “You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God.” (Ps 40: 17) John 17: 6 – 19.
There are 26 verses in Jesus’ High Priestly Prayer but 21 of them focused on His disciples and their life in this world as He prepared to leave them. The principal objective of His prayer is found at the end of this segment (John 17:19): viz., our sanctification. In Scriptural parlance, to sanctify anything or anyone is for the article or person to be set apart, or to be cut-off or separated from normal usage, as holy for Yahweh’s use. True spirituality is all about holiness, and its significant is characteristically modelled by Jesus’ earthly life. This farewell prayer, in the presence of His eleven disciples, possibly towards the end of the Last Supper, revealed His critical thinking, hours before His arrest and eventual crucifixion. It was to provide some insight to secure the holiness of those who believed in Him through His sacrifice at the cross (John 17:19; c.f., 1Peter 1:14-16). Holiness is synonymous with God, hence any fellowship with Him is inevitably on the basis of Christ’s holiness (1Cor 1:30-31; John 14:6). Because spiritual holiness is so alien to earthly life, its palpable manifestation customarily attracts a negative repercussion that challenges its articulation in our world; a significant reminder that we are holy only when we are ‘in Christ.’ In any case, sinfulness detests to be reminded of God’s holiness and presence (John 17:14). Our spiritual position in Christ imputes righteousness to us. But we all realise that living a righteous or holy life is a realistically dynamic process that confronts our fallen humanity every moment, as long as we are alive, in this world. Nevertheless, to be sanctified is to devote one’s life exclusively for a single divine purpose; just as Jesus did as He appeared in our world for the purpose of sacrificing Himself as the Lamb of God Who took away the sins of the world (John 1:29; John 3:16; 1John 4:10; Rom 8:1-11). Thus, to be holy is to obey God explicitly and unconditionally (John 17:6-12; Rom 12:1-2). In a sense, holiness is not totally about desisting from temptations and sins, but a recognition of our identity in Christ, and ‘expressing Him’ in the public domain. It is about unqualified obedience to God, as we belong to no one else, not even ourselves (1Cor 6:17-20). Although the salvation of souls is predicated individually, in Jesus’ prayer, it is ultimately ‘the oneness’ within the worldwide church community that ideally testifies to Yahweh’s presence in His Body (John 17:11; Rom 12:5). The Lord is not referring to the ecumenical reunion of Christendom but something much more profound, a unity of heart, mind and will in Himself; a new way of life in Christ that embraces all believers (c.f., 1Peter 2:9-10), “that they may be one even as We are One” (John 17: 21 – 23). What does it mean when we are specifically a people devoted to holiness? Jesus prayed that we may be sanctified in the truth, that is, sanctified through the Word of God (John 17:17; John 1: 1 - 2). It is Scripture that exposited for us what it means to be holy before God, as we do not possess any innate sense of holiness apart from God (Rom 3:23-24). With a sensitised conscience, our familiarisation with His Law, provoked us into realizing how utterly condemned we stood before a holy God and totally incapable of redeeming ourselves (Rom 3:20), and the only route towards His forgiveness is through the death of His Son. For our sakes Jesus set Himself apart whole-heartedly as a sacrificial Lamb that we may also be set apart in reconciliation to God by believing and trusting Him (John 17:19; c.f., John 14:16; Eph 2:8-9). To be sanctified is to inordinately appreciate the remarkable grace of God for laying His own life down for us in securing our salvation. When we allow this truth to sink deep into our consciousness, only then can we appreciate that God died for us that we may freely live a sanctified life in Christ (c.f., Rev 21). Life is full of surprises! And grave tidings, no less unrelenting in the human predicament, form a substantial chunk of personal and world news. Mortalities within the immediate family, however, must be one of the most challenging to comprehend and process; particularly when they occur unexpectedly or during a survivours’ formative childhood years. When these familial relationships are functional and intimate, the repercussions can be catastrophic and enduring. Especially for children, these often tragic circumstances would elicit Yahweh’s instinctive paternal response of being “a father to the fatherless…” (Psalm 68: 5). It highlights God’s promised role as a protector, provider and guide for those who have lost their fathers, emphasising God's care and concern for the vulnerable and those without the traditional family support. They are certainly not alone as His invisible and, at times, palpable Presence becomes accessible and available; especially to those who seek Him.
I was then in my mid-teens and was beginning to relish a somewhat mature interaction with my father since his earlier diagnosis for stage four cancer. I surmised that he probably realised that his time with us was growing shorter! Despite possessing a quiet and particularly reserved demeanour, he began to intermittently clue me in on his family history and background. Most of his eight siblings were politically more left-leaning and they chose to remain in mainland China. He was the eldest, an accomplished athlete during his college days, and was an agriculturist with the Chinese provincial government. The latter involvement inevitably resulted in his perilous escape from China prior to 1949, with his youngest brother. Furthermore, I discovered that my grandfather was a Presbyterian minister. The church he pastored subsequently disbanded and he went underground. Dad had hung on to his responsibilities as a teacher, advisor for students’ affairs, and vice-principal of a notable local high school during his cancer treatment. Throughout his teaching career, he thoroughly relished his direct interaction with his students. Then quite suddenly, about six years after his initial diagnosis, the disease resurfaced with a vengeance. Within a month, he became quite sick. His best friend from his university days in China, a medical doctor, arrived every morning and evening to administer a strong narcotic analgesic. Every Sunday morning, despite the rapid progression of the disease, we supported him to an awaiting taxi, which ferried him to and from a church service in town. My father never broached the subject of his religious convictions with us. However, the reality of his regular Sunday church attendance, during his final weeks, intrigued me. Two months later, at 55 years of age, he passed on. It was a late Sunday evening when we were summoned by the doctor to my father’s bedside. Even though I was mentally prepared for his demise, having waited on him and assisted my mother with his daily care, when it finally arrived, a pall of sadness descended on me like a ton of bricks. This was the end of my journey with my dad; the time we had spent talking about his past suddenly ended. We were just getting to know each other! I had so many questions I wanted to ask him. My father’s abrupt absence devastated me. In the midst of grief, while standing around him with the family during those concluding moments, a soft voice spoke, “Don’t worry, I will be like a father to you. Trust Me!” At the time, the identity of the One Who spoke was shrouded in mystery! It was some years later, when I became a Christian, that I began to understand Who represented that ‘still small voice’ on that fateful day. This mentoring process took on a new meaning when I committed myself to two Christian communities in London; where different mature believers drew alongside, over several years, to provide a measure of stability and oversight on my rudderless life at that juncture. On hindsight, it was an arduous but enlightening emotional and spiritual journey, with an eventual critical professional reorientation. The irony did not escape me that it required a fundamental relocation from Asia to the U.K. to unshackle me from my own complacency on spiritual matters, together with the inhibitions of cultural and familial influence over my deliberations. God had initiated and laid the groundwork for a new birth, and subsequently, an enduring relationship with Himself. This primary transformative conversion encounter with Him, further ignited my yearning to listen and talk with Him. Many of us possess a presumption that God only begins to involve Himself in our lives when we become believers, but by all indications in Scripture, Yahweh has chosen to inextricably immerse Himself with all that is going on in our lives even prior to our physical birth into this world (viz., Jer 1: 5; Ps 139: 13 – 16; Eph 1: 4 – 5), and that appears to be ongoing with each generation of those who followed Him (c.f., Ex 20: 6; Deut 7: 9; Ps 145: 4). This precious mystery of God’s engrossment over His created order is profound, and is indicative of Yahweh’s ‘chesed’ especially for His ‘imago deo,’ underscoring the inherent dignity and value of every human life. |
AuthorGerald Cai Archives
May 2026
Preamble
Our eyes are holden that we cannot see things that stare us in the face, until the hour arrives when the mind is ripened; then we behold them, and the time when we saw them not is like a dream. Ralph Waldo Emerson My introduction to the spiritual realm took place in my late teens in London, U.K. The realisation that God existed was never in doubt, as I searched for answers on the mode of communicating with Him. One day, after challenging God on His silence and relevance in this tumultuous age, I was immediately immersed in a peace that was out of this world; it was nothing that I could have produced from within myself. That extraordinary peace led me to earnestly seek its Giver. Journeying with Him continues to this day as the reality of God's presence and fellowship remains, at times, palpable. After all, we are spiritual beings too! Hence, this Blog is entitled Living Coram Deo - living in the presence of God. |