The World’s Game

“Don’t copy the behaviour and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think” (Romans 12:2, NLT)

There’s an old story about a boy who became so absorbed in chasing a bird that he wandered deep into the forest. By the time he realized how far he had gone, night had fallen, and there was no finding his way back—at least not that night.

Now, think of that unruly bird as the world. It lures us in the same way—charming, persuasive, but ultimately perilous. And like that boy, we can be so enthralled that, before long, we have lost our way. Except in our case, the game may last not until nightfall, but until death.

Paul’s words in Romans 12:2 warn us not to copy the world’s behavior and customs but to let God transform us—not spiritually, as in the new birth, but mentally, through a renewed mind. The question is: what is so wrong with the way the world thinks that requires such transformation? Many things, of course, but one in particular stands out: the way the world defines and appraises value.

How the World Measures Worth

It may sound cliché, but it bears repeating: the world’s systems of value and validation differ sharply from God’s. In both spheres, experience, qualifications, skill, and talent matter especially for leadership positions. Yet, while the world prizes upward mobility through achievement and status, the Kingdom of God privileges Christlike character (Acts 6:3; 1 Timothy 3:1–13; Matthew 20:25–28).

The world teaches that worth is measured by recognition—prizes, degrees, awards, contracts, academic fellowships, jobs, publications, promotions, wealth, and more. Thus, when we display these on our CVs, we are, whether consciously or not, making a case for how much we’re worth. The greater our worth—as revealed in the abundance of validations we have—the more strategically positioned we are to receive even greater validations.

But here’s the catch: while in both the world and in the kingdom of God, value is meant to lead to validation, in the world, the latter is not always an accurate reflection of the former.

What I mean is that a student can graduate with a first-class degree after dabbling copiously—but surreptitiously—in plagiarism. Elections may be rigged to favour a non-deserving candidate, just as a national service personnel may be retained at her workplace at the expense of more competent colleagues because she agreed to sleep with her boss. Solomon observed this bitter truth in Ecclesiastes 9:11 (NLT):

“The fastest runner doesn’t always win the race, the strongest warrior doesn’t always win the battle… the skillful are not necessarily wealthy. And those who are educated don’t always lead successful lives. It is all decided by chance, by being in the right place at the right time.”

Solomon’s thesis about life’s meaninglessness was, in part, inspired by this unpredictability of life.

Although the world’s validating systems can be problematic, there is nothing inherently wrong with their existence. The real issue for the Christian is how we define ourselves and our worth in the light of these validations.

The Danger of Misplaced Validation

For example, to prioritize the world’s validations over God’s is to feel most fulfilled in the accumulation of wealth, even though Jesus has made it clear that the quality of life transcends the abundance of possessions (Luke 12:15). It would also mean to live hedonistically, ignoring God’s impression of eternity on our hearts (Eccl. 3:11). The tension is, perhaps, best capsulized in Luke 16:15 —

“What is highly valued among men is detestable in God’s sight.”

Ensuing logically from the premise that God’s values are different from the world’s, God’s validation systems are also different from the world’s.

Granted, God may bless us with wealth, like He did Abraham and Job; and beauty, like He did Esther. Or He may make us rulers, like David or Joseph. In such cases, it may look as though God’s systems of validation converge with the world’s. But a salient distinction is that when God gives these things, they are neither (to be) flauntable nor ends in themselves, but resources to help achieve a greater cause—what we may call “calling.” Thus, God makes a Prime Minister out of Joseph for a greater purpose than mere revelling in this promotion per se.

Ultimately, the Christian’s final and most decisive validation comes in the afterlife, when he hears from his Master, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant” (Matt. 25:21).

Unfortunately, God’s validation here on earth (i.e., not the one in the afterlife) is not always as predictable as the world’s, nor is it always as marketable. When you sign up for a degree program, you know that, all things being equal, you will graduate in four years. But you can be praying concerning an issue for years, with (apparently) nothing to show for it.

Certainly, God’s validation may come with tangible worldly benefits, such as when He lifts the heads of Joseph (before Pharaoh) and Daniel (before Nebuchadnezzar). But when the validation comes, say, in the form of “This is My Son, in whom I’m well pleased. Listen to Him!” (Matt. 17:5)—or as God said to the Levites, “I am your possession”—which company would hire or promote you because of such a reference letter? Or what if this validation comes through persecution, which Philippians 1:29 calls a “privilege”?

Playing The World’s Game in the Church

Playing the world’s game is simply about borrowing the world’s instruments to gauge our worth. It is about defining our value primarily through the validations of the world. It is the folly of being so absorbed in doing those things that enhance your CV so that you become more marketable, but relegating those things that really count for eternity. It is loving the praise of men more than God’s.

Playing the world’s game is allowing our souls to feel falsely secure because of the superfluity of worldly validation boxes we’ve ticked, while God says to us, “You fool!” (Luke 12:20). The world’s game involves an inflated degree of worth because of what the world says about you. The world’s game is considering the world’s letters of recommendation as weightier than God’s.

It is a game because—although it gets into our heads—it is not real. It is make-believe. The Laodiceans were masters of this game. They thought themselves rich, wealthy, and lacking nothing, when in fact, they were wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked (Rev. 3:17).

The irony is that the world doesn’t play on the church’s terms. The world, more than the church, listens to James, by keeping the distinction—enmity, even—between the church and the world intact. I was so scandalized to see a website that claims to score churches based on their LGBTQ+ policies. The temerity! But let’s bring the discussion closer to our subject.

Assuming each Sunday church service is 2 hours and you’ve been going to church for 10 years, you’d have done an incredible 1,040 hours (not including weekday services). But to the world, a 50-hour edX course on coding is more profitable. You might be an ordained, Spirit-filled Bible teacher with 30 years of experience in reading, studying, meditating on, preaching, and teaching the Word of God. But if a university wants someone to teach theology, an atheist with a PhD in Religion has a greater chance at being selected.

A humorous example: speaking in tongues doesn’t count as language proficiency! Many academic positions now demand a statement of diversity. It would not matter that you have overseen or fellowshipped in a church with diverse ethnic groups, as much as it would to claim affinity with the LGBTQ community. Or maybe try applying for a job for which one of the requirements is the ability to stick to projects from ideation to completion. And say that you have trained a set of disciples, beginning from prayerful selection to releasing them to fulfil their calling. Now, unless you repackage these “qualifications” in very marketable terms—in other words, neutralize their spiritual or Christian essence—you would be thought crazy to think they would count at all.

And yet, how we Christians love the world’s game! We even play it in church. Leadership positions are given to people because of their eminent statuses in the world. Sooner will we give the pulpit to a professor at so-and-so university than to the cobbler, regardless of spiritual growth levels. Chairpersons of fundraising committees are strategically selected based on financial status. (In making these points, I do not deny that certain skills from the world are also useful in the church.)

Look at how we’re wont to introduce ministers (i.e., preachers and gospel musicians). We emphasize the number of books they have written, the number of countries they have preached in, and with which great people they have shared stages. There are those who count the number of awards they have received as proof of ministry fruitfulness—never mind that these awards were given by worldly institutions. I once heard a minister justify how impactful his ministry had been, seeing that he was the first African musician to fill a certain huge stadium in Britain. Such things are truly impressive, no doubt, but the idea that they are accurate markers of ministry fruitfulness is as preposterous as claiming to be a successful academic because you won a marathon.

Another way we play the world’s game in church is by wearing as laurels what ought to be positions of—or opportunities for—service. The world’s game is built on competition because the idea of marketability relies on outdoing others. So the very (ministerial and charismatic) gifts and opportunities that God gives us to serve the church and the world—as well as the results of these opportunities—can be marketized and incorporated into the world’s game.

Consequently, we become interested, for example, in making ostentatious displays of titles more than in taking delight in performing the service that title demands, whether or not we’re addressed by that title. If someone makes the fatal mistake of calling us pastor when we’re in fact Prof. Aps., we immediately want to make the extremely salient correction.

When God’s Validation Defies the Market

Can one receive validation from the world without playing its game? Definitely! The Christian is never to live in mediocrity, and excellence – after all – honors God and attracts recognition. But as Solomon tested folly with wisdom (Eccl. 2:3), so must we engage the world with discernment. The question is not whether validation comes, but whether we allow it to define our assessment of ourselves (and others) as Christians.

Ask yourself: if every worldly endorsement were stripped away—titles, achievements, wealth, and applause—would you still find your worth secure to your family, the church, the world, and your God?

Playing the world’s game is dangerous precisely because it feels real. But the world’s affirmations are fleeting; its trophies rust. It is God’s validation that endures beyond time, anchored in eternity.

So, let us not chase the world’s bird into the forest of illusion. Let us instead pursue transformation of mind—the kind that teaches us to see worth as God sees it.