The Philippines in the Balance
An Awakening And Warning
By Jonas T Suizo
Leviticus
26 reads like God laying down the ultimate “If you do this, then that happens”
contract — blessings for obedience, and curses for rebellion. It’s old-school,
no-nonsense covenant talk. And honestly, when you take that chapter and stack
it next to the spiritual direction the Philippines is drifting toward, the
parallels hit a little too close. It’s like watching someone speed straight
into a warning sign that’s been blinking all day, and everyone else just shrugs
like, “Eh, traffic lang ‘yan.”
In
Scripture, when God chooses a people, it comes with privilege — and pressure.
Israel learned this the hard way. “You only have I known… therefore I will
punish you” (Amos 3:2). That’s not God being petty; that’s God being
consistent. If He calls you family, He expects you to live like one. And when
the family keeps messing up, the discipline hits different because the
relationship hits different.
Now
take that framework and apply it to the Philippines — a nation many believe was
marked by prophecy, shaped by spiritual narrative, and set apart with a unique
spiritual calling. But let’s be honest: the way the country is moving, it’s
giving “Leviticus 26: the remix.” The signs are right there, loud and unsubtle,
but a lot of people scroll past them like they're Terms and Conditions.
According
to Leviticus 26, God deals with nations in two lanes: goodness for those
who walk with Him, and severity for those who trample what is holy.
Blessings aren’t vague — peace, fruitfulness, protection. But the warnings?
Whew. They escalate like a teacher who’s been ignored one too many times: first
a tap on the wrist, then a full-on life lesson you’ll be remembering for
decades.
If
the Philippines truly carries a spiritual calling, then it also carries
accountability. God’s “goodness” isn’t soft — it’s the kind of goodness that
cleanses, prunes, exposes, and burns away what destroys a nation. His
“severity” isn’t random wrath — it’s covenant consequence. A nation that mocks
God’s name, scatters His people, devours His sheep, or makes His laws a joke
eventually walks straight into the disciplinary cycle described in Leviticus
26. Not because God enjoys punishing, but because He refuses to watch a chosen
people ruin themselves without stepping in.
Right
now, the Philippines is walking a razor’s edge. Morally, politically, socially
— everything feels like the prelude to something bigger. Like God’s been
dropping red flags left and right, and Filipinos are just posting memes about
it. The chapter is basically laid open in front of us, but the national
attitude is still “Bahala na,” as if spiritual trajectory is optional homework.
But
here’s the thing: Leviticus 26 doesn’t end in doom. Even when everything falls
apart, God makes room for return. Humility. Restoration. A comeback story. The
goodness–severity tension always swings back to mercy — but only for those who
choose it.
So
at the end of the day, it’s not about fear. It’s about alignment. Whose side
are we on — the side of God’s goodness, or the side that feels the weight of
His severity? Because whether as a nation, a family, or an individual, God
still deals with people the same way He did in Leviticus 26. The path is right
in front of us. It’s just a question of whether we’ll actually pay attention
before things escalate — again.
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