Righteousness before reward: Preparing the nation for its double portion

(This column is based on the author’s presentation at the Feast of Tabernacles, Oct. 8, sponsored by the Intercessors for the Philippines, at the Benguet Sports Complex, La Trinidad Valley.)

We offer no excuses, but perhaps it is time to give greater weight to the spiritual dimension of our nationhood, given all the fundamental happenings in the Philippines today.

Contrary to common perception, the Feast of Tabernacles — celebrated this year from Oct. 6 to 13 — is not only for the Jewish people. Scripture in Numbers and Chronicles records that nations were invited to Jerusalem to worship the Lord during this season. Zechariah foretells that all nations would one day ascend to Jerusalem for this feast.

Yet this sacred occasion is more than a festival of joy and harvest. It is a mirror for nations. It reminds us that no blessing, personal or national, can endure apart from righteousness.

REMEMBERING DELIVERANCE
The Feast of Tabernacles, or Sukkot, celebrates deliverance, provision, and the abiding presence of God. Beyond its rituals and temporary shelters lies a timeless truth: only a righteous people can sustain the blessings God desires to pour out.

In Scripture, the Feast recalls Israel’s 40-year journey through the wilderness. The Israelites lived in tents — fragile dwellings that testified to divine faithfulness. When there was no food, manna fell from heaven. When there was no way forward, God opened one.

“You shall dwell in booths for seven days… that your generations may know that I made Israel dwell in booths when I brought them out of Egypt” (Leviticus 23:42–43).

That passage is not ancient history, it is our mirror. We, too, live in a nation that often feels like a wilderness: corruption unchecked, inequality widening, institutions weakened. Yet God’s faithfulness remains. The Feast reminds us that our real dwelling place is not in transient power structures but in the enduring presence of God.

DELIVERANCE WITHOUT DEPENDENCE
The first meaning of Tabernacles is deliverance. God brings His people out so He can bring them in — out of bondage into freedom, out of scarcity into abundance. But deliverance without dependence breeds arrogance.

This has been the story of many of our political leaders who, once delivered from obscurity, could not resist the lure of public money. Power detached from moral restraint has repeatedly derailed our reform efforts. We have been delivered from dictatorship, recession, and even pandemic despair, yet every deliverance has been followed by a relapse because independence was mistaken for immunity.

The Feast calls us to dependence on divine wisdom — to humility that anchors freedom in responsibility. Without that dependence, political liberation will only perpetuate moral captivity.

PROVISION AND INCLUSION
The second meaning of the Feast is provision. Deuteronomy 16:14-15 commands the people to rejoice — every man, woman, stranger, orphan, and widow — because the Lord blesses “all the work of your hands.”

This is a vision of inclusion. Yet our own feast remains uneven: abundance for a few, scarcity for many. Our national budgets expose distorted values — public works often tramp education and health; legislative chambers retain generous allocations while social protection is trimmed.

When corruption diverts funds meant for classrooms, clinics, and communities, provision becomes oppression. What God intended as blessing turns to bondage. Prosperity without righteousness corrodes society.

If the meaning of Tabernacles is not internalized, if we continue to equate progress with mere spending, expect the same outcomes, namely, rising inequality, fiscal stress, and social cynicism. The poor will remain spectators to excessive display of ill-gotten wealth, and public confidence will erode even faster than our revenues.

MULTIPLICATION AND MISMANAGEMENT
The third meaning of Tabernacles is multiplication. Joel 2:23 paints the promise of a double portion: “He will cause the rain to come down for you — the former rain and the latter rain in the same month.”

The former rain softens the ground for planting; the latter rain ripens the harvest. Together they symbolize overflow — deliverance, restoration, abundance.

But Scripture makes clear that the double portion is conditional. Elisha received it because he walked faithfully; the firstborn son inherited it because he bore both honor and responsibility. Likewise, a nation that desires abundance must first shoulder accountability.

We, too, seek a double portion — economic dynamism and moral renewal, investment and integrity. But the rains of blessing cannot fall on polluted soil. Governance, like farmland, must be cleared of corruption; policy must be seeded in justice. Otherwise, the same rain that could nourish will reveal the cracks of decay.

Unless we internalize the Feast’s demand for righteousness, we should expect recurring fiscal leakages, capital flight, and eroded investor confidence. No amount of stimulus will suffice when trust in public institutions remains shallow.

WHEN GOVERNANCE FAILS, GLORY DEPARTS
Global assessments continue to rank the Philippines poorly in corruption control, rule of law, and political stability. Business groups such as the Management Association of the Philippines list graft, weak education, and bureaucratic red tape among the foremost barriers to competitiveness. International financial institutions have already lowered their growth forecasts — below the official 5.5% to 6.5% target for 2025 — largely due to governance risks.

The subtext is stark: deficits and inefficiency have become normalized, as though they were natural disasters instead of moral choices. Studies estimate that more than one-fifth of public-works allocations vanish into collusion among politicians, engineers, and contractors. Corruption steals more than money; it steals mercy. Every peso misused is medicine unbought, free tuition ungranted, a bridge unbuilt.

True, there are stirrings of rectification. The creation of the Independent Commission for Infrastructure (ICI), though questioned for its independence, is an attempt to institutionalize accountability beyond politics. The Senate and House investigations into the flood-control anomalies are beginning to unearth long-ignored layers of systemic abuse. The Department of Justice should therefore start consolidating evidence for referral to the Ombudsman. And the freeze orders on bank accounts of implicated personalities, together with hold-departure orders on key contractors and politicians, suggest that the architecture of impunity is, at last, being challenged.

These moves are commendable first steps, but unless they culminate in actual convictions and recovery of stolen wealth, they risk fading into another episode of performative reform. If the guilty are not punished, we can only brace for sequels — another “Trillion-Peso March,” another erosion of faith in our democracy.

This is the policy warning embedded in the Feast: righteousness is not optional. It is the foundation of sustainable development. Without it, every anti-corruption drive will end in fatigue. Every growth spurt will collapse under its own inequity.

RIGHTEOUSNESS BEFORE REWARD
Psalm 84:11 declares, “The Lord will withhold no good thing from those who walk uprightly.” That is both promise and condition. The divine order of Tabernacles is clear: repentance before abundance, righteousness before reward, purity before presence.

Applied to nations, it means governance reform before growth; justice before investment; integrity before influence. God withholds nothing from those who walk uprightly, but He withholds glory from those who glorify injustice.

Our problem is not opportunity but alignment. We pray for rain — economic, moral, and spiritual — yet we refuse to prepare the soil. We seek the double portion without the double consecration.

Still, grace remains. “The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us” (John 1:14). Christ is the Living Tabernacle, the dwelling of God with humanity. Through Him, the shadow became substance; the promise became Person. In Him, we are called to be living tabernacles — carriers of presence and instruments of justice.

A CALL TO NATIONAL RENEWAL
The Feast of Tabernacles points toward the day when God will dwell fully among His people when righteousness reigns and every tear is wiped away. Until that day, our duty is to prepare the dwelling, cleanse the vessel, and make our nation worthy of the blessing it seeks.

For the Philippines, that means leadership that serves rather than steals; justice that restores rather than retaliates; governance that listens rather than lords it over. It means embedding ethics into policy, requiring transparency in procurement, merit in appointment, and accountability in spending.

If we fail to internalize these truths, expect the opposite of a double portion: double hardship — economic stagnation paired with moral decay. The country will remain trapped in boom-bust cycles, unable to convert growth into genuine development.

But if our leaders walk uprightly, if citizens practice integrity and demand accountability, if righteousness becomes culture rather than campaign, then the rains will come, the former and the latter together. Then the nation will experience its true double portion: not only growth, but also grace; not only prosperity, but also peace.

THE FINAL TABERNACLE
Ultimately, the Feast reminds us that God’s goal is not material comfort but moral communion. “Behold, the dwelling of God is with men” (Revelation 21:3). That promise stands for every nation — but only the righteous will stand in that glory.

Let every institution, church, and citizens act on the same call: “The double portion is waiting — but it will only fill clean vessels.”