Make no mistake, these are dark days.

The last 24 hours have reminded us that we live in a land of deep darkness—a place where death comes close. It is always close in one way or another, but it’s not normally like this—not in Australia. This was on our soil, at a familiar place, a place which is close to people we know and love.

Yesterday, two people walking in darkness foisted darkness on countless others. Only God knows how long those dark days will last for the people who were on the scene. Some physically succumbed to the darkness thrown at them. The rest will go on and relive the moment over and over again.

Those who weren’t there will feel the darkness as they watch the images, hear the stories of the victims, and imagine what it would have been like if they were in the middle of it. We at Restoration Church, know what it is like to live through dark days too. We know what it is like to have darkness forced upon us.

While darkness is powerfully suffocating, scientifically speaking, it has a natural enemy—light. Whenever the two come up against one another, darkness loses. Every. Single. Time. The brighter the light, the more the darkness is dispelled. It’s more maths than mystery.

Jesus is the great light who moves towards darkness. About 2,000 years ago, he took on human flesh and literally set up camp in our dark world. He didn’t walk in darkness, but he lived in it alongside us. In the end, he became a victim of it. The very ones who claimed to be in right relationship with God took him down. He was the ultimate innocent victim.

It was a dark day that day—literally. When the light of the world was snuffed out, so was the sun, for three long hours. It was a visceral darkness, a sign that something profound was taking place. The centurion watching on was right: Jesus was no ordinary person and this was no ordinary execution.

Jesus was working on an invisible peace—a relational peace, a peace between humanity and God—the essential precursor to every other kind of peace. A kind of peace which renders warriors’ garments, boots, and weapons unnecessary. A vertical peace, if you like, which makes horizontal peace between people inevitable.

So we pray for calm. We pray for peace. And we pray for justice and comfort for those who are suffering. But we pray deeper than that. We pray that all those involved in this tragedy—and the rest of our country—will see the great light, Jesus himself, in the midst of the darkness.

And we dare to dream that this Christmas, peace would break out across our land.

It is hard to be quiet. It is hard to be still. It takes a deliberate choice. We are a busy and distracted people now.  We spend hours scrolling on phones, streaming shows, listening to any song we like at the touch of a button, and we consume podcasts on our commutes like daily vitamins. All these habits make for a clustered environment.  Constant noise is not good for the soul.

If the soul is the deepest part of who you are, then it makes sense that it requires something of equal or greater depth to satisfy it. If we are to truly find soul satisfaction in the Lord we shouldn’t expect to find it in a quick fix or a noisy remedy. That would be like continually eating fast food in hopes of achieving long-term health.

No, we must resist the urge to consistently soak in pixels and sound waves and instead, find quiet places. This is where the soul can commune with God. David might describe these places as green pastures and still waters.

When was the last time you were quiet? Have you established rhythms in your life that allow your soul to know these words?

You’ve done it this time! There is no coming back. You are a loser. You’re worthless. Here is the point of no return.

How loud these voices are when we operate less than humanly. We have a problem. It is guaranteed that we will fail, stuff up, and find ourselves stuck. There will be no hiding how far off the mark we are.

In our defeat we may well ask ourselves, “Where is God in this?”
Yet God speaks into our mess again, and again, and again. Here is what He says,  

Read it again, slowly. This is God’s word to you, it is real, alive and always timely.

“Redeemed of the Lord.”  You are purchased at the cross!

“Sought After.”  He wants you as His own!

These are profound statements, they are identity statements. “Redeemed” and “Sought After” are the names that God gives to those He rescues, because those whom He saves are His delight (Zephaniah 3:17).

It is true, look at Jesus when He turns and rebukes a cynical and self-righteous crowd. They are disgusted with Jesus and the company He keeps. Yet He announces the purpose of that day, of your day, of every day: “The Son of Man came to seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10). What is God’s heart for you in Christ? Those who are wayward and at their worst are sought out, redeemed, and brought close again, and again, and again.

When your identity is taking a beating, remember that the primary purpose of God in Scripture is renewing and restoring it. Your identity is never too far gone. You are whole, you are precious, you are secure when Jesus finds you and you find your identity in Him.

Prayer is a funny thing. I pray with my son most nights before bed. For some reason he really enjoys it. Normally, after I’ve prayed for all the logical things, he asks for more prayers. And so, I ask him, “what should we pray for?” He usually responds with illogical things like “my toy racing car” or “the garbage truck.” So we pray for his toys and the garbage truck. When he shares his requests with me, I love it. It has been one of the sweetest realisations I have had from these times of prayer. I love it because of our relationship. I just love hearing from him because he’s my son and I’m his father.

When we pray, we usually address our prayers to God the Father (Matthew 6:9). It’s significant that God chose to reveal himself to us as a father. He could have chosen to be God the Boss or God the Teacher and that would have communicated certain things about himself.  But he didn’t. He chose to be known as ‘Our Father.’ And a good father delights in his kids for no other reason than he is their dad. He loves to hear from them. What if you saw God as a Father who wanted to hear from you regardless of how logical or illogical the request may be? Would you consider spending some time with that kind of God? If you do, he’ll be chuffed.

This is it Restoration Church. We are approaching the most significant weekend of the year—the time when we celebrate the most important moment in human history.

Christmas is good, the ascension of Christ is good, and the giving of the Holy Spirit is good too. But there is nothing like Easter. The goodness which flows to humanity from this weekend is unrivalled. It is the hope of the world. It was the moment when the treasuries of God were opened up to us. It was the moment when a sure and certain "yes" was spoken over every promise God had made, when the pathway to adoption into God’s family was firmly laid, and when the dirty and the unrighteous were invited to make the most stunning of trades.

Much ink has been spilled and will continue to be spilled about that first Easter weekend. It is precious beyond words. Literally. No song writer or author will ever be able to stand back and say, “There, that’s it. That captures it perfectly.” There will always be more to write, more to say, more to sing, and more to reflect on. It was the stuff of legend. Something so remarkable, heroic, and extraordinary that one might assume it was a made-up tale. But don’t give that a second thought. It happened, and it really matters. Make no mistake, these are the three most important days in human history.

Those who love Him have been celebrating it ever since. As we remember it, we join with those who were there and watch in horror as Jesus is unfairly tried, flogged, and marched up the hill and hung on a Roman cross. It was unthinkable then and it even more so now. The King, executed like a criminal. By the end of the day, the one in whom was life itself was dead – his body a lifeless corpse. Gone. But only for a little while. On Sunday, He emerged victorious. Like a champion, He came out of the tomb carrying humanity, carrying you and me, on His shoulders. Sin and death didn’t win. Life did. This is the hope of the world.

So, prepare your hearts for Jesus this Easter. Walk the road with Him to the cross, follow His body to the tomb, and wait there until he emerges on Sunday. Fix your eyes on Him until you see the beauty, the wonder, and the majesty of this moment. Pay attention as He joyfully gives up His life for you and for me, and get swept up in His exhilarating triumph over death. Some of the first Easter weekend may be hard to watch and hard to think about, but it is beautiful beyond words.

The way we say what we say is a critical part of all verbal communication. It conveys what we mean almost as much as the words we use. If you are anything like me, then you’ve had moments where you have used words which were harmless in and of themselves, but it was the way you said them which gave them their direction and meaning. Your tone of voice made them helpful or harmful, encouraging or disheartening, a blessing or a curse.

As I have read Scripture in the last few months, I have become increasingly interested in how God says what He says, not just what He says. I have found myself looking to understand not just the content, but the tone of voice He is using. This can be quite a task when the words being communicated are written on a page and not spoken aloud.

Everyone who engages with scripture hears a tone of voice in what they read, and the tone we hear is directly connected to the way we see him. If we see him as judgemental and harsh, we will read his words as being edgy and tinged with frustration. If we see him as the loving father he is, then his words will carry a fatherly encouragement or urgency.

Here’s a prayer I have been praying before I start reading scripture: “God, I want to understand how you are saying things, not just what you are saying. Can you please help me to hear your tone of voice.” Then I read slowly – sometimes only a few verses a day. I read them and then I stop and think about what they mean, what I know about God’s character, what he is saying, and how he intends for his words to be heard.

One of the hardest places to hear warmth in God’s tone of voice is within the books of the law – Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers. Chapter after chapter you are confronted with the details and regulations of God’s covenant with Israel and the inescapable judgement which will come upon them if they disobey him. It is a tough read for many. To make matters worse, each of these books has a sprinkling of stories about those who ran afoul of God’s law and met their demise. Hearing anything other than a vengeful, harsh voice in these books can be a real uphill battle.

Enter Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy is Moses’ last sermon to the people of Israel before they enter the Promised Land. They are his final words, and they are significant. Not just because they are the last words Israel will hear from Moses, but because there is no one better to help you understand the tone of God’s words than the one whom God spoke to as a man speaks with his friend (Exodus 33:11). Of all people, he would be the one who could capture the heart of God in all the things he said, including the law.

One of the things you see in Deuteronomy which helps you to get a sense of God’s tone in the law is the connection Moses makes between love and obedience. You can’t separate them. What’s more, he clearly teaches Israel about which comes first, and which one follows. When it comes to God, obedience always follows love. If you love God most, then obedience is easy.

How often do you tell God the things you really need to?
Something like this…

In psychology there is a term “Schema” that refers to a subconscious script we have learned to apply in different situations.

Somewhere along the line we have developed a schema for how we talk with God. It says a lot about how we relate to Him. We repeat it so mechanically that we stop short of telling Him what we really think or feel. This mantra stops us from telling Him the last five percent where we’ve stuffed everything that really matters – everything we’re holding back. In our minds, to go there would be to break out of the Christian script that we’ve always repeated. It would be torn up, and we wouldn’t know where to start again. Or would we?

As a pattern of prayer, the Psalms invite imitation. “They offer in their text responses appropriate to God, even righteous for readers who find themselves in similar situations.” ¹ They excel at modelling how the knowledge of ourselves and the knowledge of God should and can meet in all circumstances.

Pick a psalm and it won’t take long to see the author operating in first person language. “My heart is, my soul longs, I am, I say, rescue me…” the list goes on in every dimension. It’s clear the writer understands their situation and is not pulling back from telling God about it.
Remarkably, these prayers are rarely without a statement regarding their recipient, Yahweh. They’re nearly always paired with a truth about God such as “according to your faithfulness” or “your steadfast love”.  We see in the Psalms what it means to meet with God in honest conversation. This was not a foreign concept to Calvin who concluded that the knowledge of ourselves informs our utter dependence on God. ²

The Psalms show us all the human emotions, and make sure we have a model by which we can express them to God. In the Psalms,  “there is not an emotion in the realm of human experience not represented as in a mirror”. ³

Try it: Choose a psalm and pray through it once a day for a week. By following them closely we learn to pray freely. Without that old habitual script, there will be so much to share and far, far more to receive.

If we were to meet today, would you be happy to see me? If I turned up, if I showed up, would you like that? Would you smile? Would you talk to me?

What if it has been a while since I last showed up? A couple of days, a week, a month, or even ages ago. Would you still want to see me then? Would you actually enjoy seeing me?

What if I just blew it? What if my previous 24 hours had been patchy: lame at best or a full blown failure at worst? What then? Would you still want to be with me?

What if I had nothing to offer to you? What if I came to meet you without anything to contribute? What if I ended up standing before you – you in all your fullness and me with my empty hands? What then? Would that be okay? Would you still talk with me if I had nothing to offer you?

What if it was even worse – way worse? What if I actually did have something to bring to you and it was a tangled life filled with problems? What if my hands weren’t empty but were filled with troubles - difficulties which would make your life harder? What then? Would you still come? Would you still smile?

I think so.

When God says something, it is as good as done.

You can question it, investigate it, doubt it, discuss it, or debate it. But regardless of what you or anyone else does with it, it will be done. You can be sure of that. What God says happens. If he promises, he will deliver. If he tells you something is true, you can take it to the bank.

But if this is real, then why are there so many hangups when it comes to relying on Scripture?

Well, the answer to that is quite straightforward. While the trustworthiness of what God says in the Bible is clear, there are times where what he means by what he says is much less so to us. As readers of the bible, it is not uncommon to hit a passage that goes beyond what we can comprehend, or a section which makes us uncomfortable, or a statement which isn’t as tight as we would like it to be.

Sometimes these snags can make our heads spin so much that they keep us awake at night. If this has ever happened to you, then you know it isn’t a particularly enjoyable experience. Yet despite this, we shouldn’t be surprised by these encounters from time to time. God’s thoughts and his ways are both understandable and mysterious. The nature of who he is can be understood at some level by young children, even though the fullness of who he is goes well beyond the smartest among us.

So, if you are reading scripture and you get to a section where God accelerates and leaves you in his dust a little, don’t be put off. Remember: you can still bank on what he says, even if it is confusing, bothersome, or you don’t understand it.

I was reminded of this again as I was reading Luke 2 this morning. It was the section of Jesus’ birth narrative where the angel of the Lord appeared to the shepherds in the fields at night.  He announced the birth of Jesus, what he would look like, and where they could find him. It was so random, so out of the blue, so supernatural. What did the shepherds do? They went looking for the Saviour, eventually finding him with his parents, lying in a manger.

Here's the way Luke closes out the scene:

Just as they had been told. That’s how it works. That’s how it always works with what God says. He doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t play games.

Regardless of the things God has said that have gone beyond you, stumped you, upset you, or confused you – on the day Jesus comes back, you will realise that everything is just as you have been told. Everything.

By all means, drill deep into Scripture and understand as much as you can. You won’t regret it. But as you do, you need to be aware that you will inevitably hit the odd bump or get caught on a dilemma or two along the way. Don’t be put off by it.

Remember: What he says always comes to pass. It always makes sense. Everything will be just as you have been told.

How often do you apologise for crying in public? Hopefully you don’t feel you need to at Restoration. We are a crying church after all.

But what is it about this sense of needing to apologise for our tear-stained cheeks and runny noses?  What are we really doing?   This is how we, perhaps without realising it, push towards a culture that says, “Tears are not what we do here” or, “I know a brave face is more mature and respectable”. Something in our society has turned grief into weakness.

Arthur Bennett blows this out of the water in his book of prayers “The Valley of Vision”, which is based on his adaptation of Puritan works. He invites us to say:

“Let me learn by paradox,
the way down is the way up…
the valley is the place of vison”.

There is worship in grief. The righteous can and should question God. Bennett’s prayer continues: “Lord, high and mighty, meek and lowly, thou hast brought me to the valley of vision”.

Perhaps you have walked in a deep mountain valley, the towering peaks on either side stand in majesty, yet bring trepidation. Grief can be like this, it can make us feel invisible, small, and fragile. Deep in this valley we whisper, “All your waves and breakers have swept over me”. ¹

What if we flipped this societal norm?

Like the children’s book “Upside Down Day”, what if we embraced the valley and those walking through it without looking for an upside or joyful exit. Often, when discussing and reflecting on the Psalms of lament the hard lines and phrases have been rushed so that the happy ending of praise can tie things off.

But have we mistakenly read something into the Psalms that wasn’t there? Are not cries for deliverance written from times of trouble? The Psalmist is in the thick of it, “I will yet praise him”, even through agony, a broken heart, a tear-soaked pillow. “Why oh God?” Worship does not need us to have it together. Devotion is, after all, simply where we direct our attention. If you’re crying out to God, you’re worshiping.  

Psalm 1, invites us to meditation, to blessing, and to submission to Yahweh, as it teaches us how to read the Psalter. The remaining 149 psalms are full of prayers and songs offered to Yahweh, including 65 prayers of lament that all invite imitation.

In the Psalms God provides these responses as appropriate and even righteous ². Can you see what this is doing? The broken, lost, and pain-filled person clutching at life and awash in grief can cry out from their anguish in righteousness!  

Don’t jump to happy endings when someone is grieving. Instead, get down in that valley with them. CS Lewis, reflecting on the loss of his wife, helpfully articulates the nature of grief, “I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process” ³.  

Embrace the valley- with those who are in it. We’re on a journey and it’s never a quick exit. Turn up and walk with them ⁴.  Acknowledgement of someone’s situation or grief is critical, advice is not.  

Text: Matthew 3:1-17

When your thoughts turn to God throughout the day, what’s your general perception?

Do you view Him as the high and mighty King of the Universe? As the One who is on the throne, surrounded by hosts of angels crying, “holy, holy, holy”?¹

These truths of God’s transcendence and sovereignty are vital. However, a vision of God that is limited to this perspective will leave us lacking the further blessings of the imminent and intimate divine qualities. Just as astonishing as His supremacy is the reality that He is a Father, a friend, an advocate, and a “very present help in times of trouble.”²

The Israelites in Jesus’ day were mindful of God’s supremacy and power, but for most there was little to no sense of nearness or relationship. Denominations within Judaism included the Pharisees who thought it was all about their meticulous ladder-climbing and the Sadducees were focused on rituals and class distinctions. This left the majority of the population feeling inferior and worthless.

With the stunning outbreak of John the Baptist’s ministry, huge numbers flocked to learn that the only way to cross this chasm was through repentance before God and trusting in Him for the forgiveness of their sins. So, they came into the wilderness to hear John’s preaching and to be baptised, identifying themselves as sinners seeking the kingdom of God.

Then, Jesus enters the scene. He, surrounded by a host of sinful Israelites, comes to John to be baptised by him. John is baffled – it doesn’t make sense!

Why did Jesus get baptised, knowing that He was without sin and therefore without need of repentance? One of many reasons is this: Jesus identified Himself with sinful humanity.

In His baptism, Jesus got in the water with a group of people who were seeking the kingdom of God. He could have just looked on and preached repentance from far off. Instead, Jesus came close and got in the water with the sinful humanity whom He came to save.  We see Jesus, God’s righteous servant, being numbered with the transgressors.³  His gentle and humble heart is on display as He draws near to fallen people like you and me.

Are you prone to view God as too holy for you, and yourself as unworthy to be called His child? Maybe you feel like Jesus wouldn’t understand you in your sin or in your suffering? This can keep us withdrawn from Him. Call this to mind: Jesus got down in the water to stand amongst sinners, and He did so for you.

Wonderfully, Jesus’ place as God’s “beloved Son”⁴ becomes ours. In His baptism (and later His temptation in the wilderness), Jesus is shown to be a righteous, faithful Son who stands in the stead of sinners. Through His work on the cross, He gives us His status as “beloved [children], with whom [God is] well pleased.”⁵

So, friend, come to Him today in thankfulness that He first drew near to you. Ask for faith to see that the holy King is the very One who delights to be by your side.

For years I lived with a presumption that I was going to heaven. For me the cross was an impersonal key that ensured my safe passage. Jesus died and rose again. He made me right with God. That was enough. I had stopped at a misguided and clinical view of justification. I had no idea that it involved a personal reconciliation with the Lord and a new life and relationship with Him.
What more could there be? God had already shown me His unmerited grace. I never considered that He wanted me as anything more than a piece of eternal furniture. In my mind’s eye God sat on His mighty throne, it was that way now, and it would be that way in the future. There was a clear divide between me and Him. If I knelt in the pews, it was beyond the rail and was not coming any closer.
And yet:

“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of
God! And that is what we are!”
1 John 3:1

I assumed that distance from God was normal. When I read the Bible, I saw the work of the gospel as legal, simply clearing the charge that sin brought against me. And this is of course a vital part of how God saves us. The Apostle Paul clearly used legal terminology in his gospel arguments. However, I had stopped short of the crucial question: “So what now?” What does this mean? Is there another side to this coin? I considered myself forgiven because Christ had taken my guilt, but I was still kneeling in the pews with Him at a distance. There was no renewal, no healing, no restoration.

J.I. Packer wrote that adoption is “the highest privilege that the gospel offers, higher even than justification. Adoption is higher because of the richer relationship with God that it involves.”

The theology of adoption has received little in the way of attention or theological writing in modern times. Perhaps this is because it is the benefit of being justified by and before God, not the ground of it.  Put simply, we have stopped short, not considering from where it is that God raises us to such an honour as to be called His children, but that is what we are. “You wear His name, you live in Him, you are saved by Him, and you are altogether His” _{^{(Spurgeon, Adoption: The Spirit and the Cry)}}.

Where are you? Have you personally encountered the love of the Father? Or is He far off? Come and see what great love the Father has lavished on us. He sent His Son, who will not leave you as an orphan, but is preparing a place for you in the Father’s house. Orphans live in orphanages without parents. Children live in homes with parents. The Father calls you His child.  That is who you are when you truly experience the reality of Christ’s justifying work.

• Bible reflection:     
  • Galatians 4:1-7
  • 1 John 3: 1-2

All through Scripture there are opportunities for us to see the care and provision of our God to His people, to those who know His steadfast love. From the substitution of a ram for Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah, to manna in the wilderness, to the feeding of the 5,000, to Jesus’ atonement for our sins. His abundant, unfailing supply is everywhere, drenching the pages of His word.  

I wonder what comes to mind first when you think about the vast range of accounts of God’s provision? For me, I am often brought back to a small reminder of how intentional and specific God’s care is in the book of Deuteronomy. Mentioned three times in the Old Testament is a variance of this phrase:

Now, if your family looks anything like mine, you know the peril of the short lives of footwear, especially the shiny, black leather shoes that grace the feet of school-aged children. Within just a mere few weeks of playtime scuffs appear, shoelaces fray, and the shine wears off. There is a certain demise that they quickly meet from scrapes, sandpits and soccer games. Yet here we see that in the midst of decades of desert wandering, the clothes of the Israelites did not deteriorate and their sandals were preserved for their journey.  

It is a small detail, but its inclusion in God’s Word has always felt like such a kindness to me. Its repetition reminds me that this tender attention is not to be missed. Our God is One who focuses, in the most detailed and compassionate ways, on everything from our greatest and eternal desperations to our smallest and everyday necessities.  

Whilst I haven’t seen a miraculous preserving of my children’s school shoes, I have seen time and time again that my Father, your Father, our good, good Father, abounds in wise, loving, and faithful care and provision for the precise needs of my life. And because He loves us the same - equally, infinitely, and extravagantly – I know that He will be doing the same for you too. We can rely on Him. Whether or not we can see it (and more often we can’t) His diligence and sufficiency is perfect.

So I encourage you, take some time to pause today.  

• Where can you see God’s provision? Thank Him.  
• Are you feeling insecure about His faithfulness? Tell Him.  
• Would you like to see Him act clearly to resolve a deep longing in your life? Ask Him.  

And then listen. Open His word. Hear Him declare and demonstrate His promises, because He will. He will strengthen your faith and comfort your heart.

I have been reading the very helpful book Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund, which focuses on Jesus' heart for sinners and sufferers. This has been a very timely mercy for me because, recently, I have been struggling with feelings of failure.

That’s right, your pastor struggles with the same things you do. We may be called to shepherd, but at heart we're sheep with you in the flock and need Jesus just the same. Don't  get me wrong. I would love to be writing this from a mountain of strength, but these words come from a valley of weakness.

When I fail, I often have this sense that I cannot come to Jesus. It is not so much when I sin "big" but "little" (if there is such a distinction). It is often when I experience the recurring frustration of not being more disciplined or when I have made clear and deliberate resolutions before the Lord to spend more time in prayer or to stick to a healthy eating plan.

But then I stray, I neglect, I forget. I do not know if you can relate, but such failures can leave me feeling defeated. And it is a quiet and lonely place to be.

On a day when I was particularly low I read these words from Ortlund:

I share this for those who need the vital and regular reminder, as I do, that Jesus knows your defeats and loves you deeply in that place. He does not love you more because you have managed to get yourself together. He loves you, forgives you, and wants to walk with you in victory and most assuredly in failure. Will you let him?

What did you do for your last holiday? Spend time with family? Catch up on much needed sleep? Perhaps you bundled the family into the car and ventured to see some distant relatives or friends. Now the days are growing colder and shorter, and the infamous “term three” rush is fast approaching, you may find yourself longing for respite.

A person who has happy memories of a place, wherever that may be, knows the unique feeling of setting out on a homeward journey. Home is not far off.

This was the case for many Jews in the 6th and 5th centuries BC, and it is a key to understanding a beautiful quote from Isaiah 9:1-2 that is applied to the outset of Jesus’ ministry in Matthew chapter 4

The country road called “the Way of the Sea” marked a very precious pilgrimage for the Israelites: their return from exile. This was their long-awaited homecoming from the land where they were prisoners, bearing the yoke of Babylon for the hardness and impenitence of their hearts. Now Matthew reveals that something of immense magnitude is about to happen: a new homecoming – a transition – a restoration - from life in darkness and the shadow of death into a great light.

Perhaps you’ve been up before dawn, stumbling around in the gloom, it’s always coldest before sunrise. A shiver runs up your spine, as you look eastward, longing for that golden silver of fresh morning light.

Just like the Israelites, we are called to recognise ourselves in this unfolding drama. God has us on the move: out of the helpless death of exile towards the rising of an eternal day. We’re on the Way of the Sea. We’re heading home to where we belong, and yet it’s not to a place, but to a Person. The radiance of the Son appears with His proclamation:

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near.”
Matthew 4:17

This is the blazing Gospel call, a summons out of the exile of sin and into new life with Christ. The kingdom of heaven is near, which is like an invading army of judgment to those who oppose it, but for those who believe, Home has come to us.

I am weak.

I know all too well that I don’t have the strength or wisdom to love the people around me, the perseverance or expertise to serve well in ministry, the willpower or faithfulness to keep fighting my sin…again and again and again. It can be overwhelming, stressful, and discouraging.

Can you relate to this? What are we to do?

The way I want to respond is to cancel commitments to take the load off or stop resisting temptation. In reality, I often just attempt to muster up what I need to press on. But it doesn’t work. While God has made us to need rest, no amount of recharging will resolve my finiteness or deficiencies in wisdom, skill and power. The answer to my inadequacies is not in getting enough “me time,” or “knuckling down” to keep going, or “faking it until I make it.”

In fact, the solution is not to be found in anything I can do or manufacture or achieve at all. Instead, it is all about what God does. The Apostle Paul answers my question with a question. He says of God,

I have misunderstood what it means to do life “in God’s strength.” I have often attempted to wield God’s power for Him – like an impersonal force in my control – as I seek to live my life for Him. But I am mistaken in doing so. The ability He provides through His Spirit is not some mystical energy that we can plug into to keep going or to make situations play out well. Not at all. Rather, the strength that He gives is Himself. All of Him in all of me.

God has promised me “all” I need. I can lift my heart to Him and cry, “Help!” And, like the loving, strong Father He is, He answers. He comes, He restores, He equips, and He fills me with every good thing...again and again and again.

As for those weakest times, they are transformed into a precious blessing as I experience God’s personal, gracious and powerful presence. We meet Him again with such relief and His sufficiency overflows.

Yes, it is like this for every believer. The promise is the same for you. It is certain that

God...is at work in you, both to desire and to work for His good pleasure.
Philippians 2:13 NASB

We can say with complete assurance and confidence with Paul,

It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.
Galatians 2:20 ESV

I grew up watching rugby league. I have always loved it. It’s in my blood. My grandpa played in high school. My dad played in primary. I am a diehard Brisbane Broncos supporter. In primary school, the highlight of my week was watching Friday Night Football with my dad. My older siblings would go off to youth group while I watched football. I never felt like I was missing out.

Growing up, the Broncos had the best players and, arguably, the best coach in the game – Wayne Bennet. Everyone respected Wayne because he kept things simple, he demanded discipline, and he had integrity. I remember hearing a story of Wayne being interviewed at a men’s breakfast. He was the guest speaker and had just been awarded Queensland Father of the Year. He was asked about how to be a good dad. Wayne shot back quickly, “love their mother.” Simple, profound, true.

Bennett left Brisbane at the end of 2008 to take up a position in Sydney before moving to Newcastle. To do this he left his family behind with the goal of keeping his wife and kids as stable as possible. He used to travel home as much as he could but coaching in the NRL is more than a full-time job...

Wayne Bennet was married to his wife for 42 years before it came out that he had been having an affair with a woman in Newcastle where he coached from 2012-2014. It sent shockwaves through the rugby league community. The once QLD father of the year had done the unthinkable. What happened?

Wayne did exactly what Proverbs 18:1 says:

“Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound judgment”              (ESV)

Wayne removed himself from his wife and kids, and he followed his impulses without accountability. He shattered what he should have known to be reasonable and responsible discernment.

We shouldn’t be surprised. The supercoach is just a human being like us. He is just as vulnerable as we are. And therefore, we too shall go astray without being enriched by ongoing godly counsel in our lives. We need to listen to the precious guidance of God’s Word and act accordingly.

So take time to consider: Are you isolated?  Being in community is a vital part of God’s provision and solution. The desire for all our community groups at Restoration Church is that Christians would participate personally and deeply. Be known and loved. Be relationally connected to a group of people who encourage, admonish and love one another. As His redeemed people, it is in our blood.

“Lord, increase our faith!” (Luke 17:5)

Why should your faith remain little? Faith includes an intellectual assent to the truth of God and the Gospel, but it is vitally so much more. It is a deep trust in the Person of God, in His character, in His promises, and in His faithfulness in fulfilling them.

Donald Macleod writes,
“We turn to Christ and we look to Christ. Our faith is directional. It is dynamic. It is mobile. It is faith in; it is faith into; it is faith towards; it is faith upon. Faith is a leaning grace. It leans on God. Faith is a grace that wraps the soul around its Saviour, not all that far removed from love. It is a personal relationship” (175).

I want to challenge you today – how is your faith? Is your faith merely a recognition of the information of the Gospel and no more, or does it look like a leaning on God, a close and loving reliance upon Him? And, even when our trust is a personal dependence and resting in the goodness of God, often it can be weary, weak, and stumbling. That is common to us all. Helpfully, Macleod summons us further:

“Why should our faith remain little? We should feed it. Sometimes we try to feed faith on faith, giving it a diet of teaching about faith, teaching about assurance and analysis of the grace itself. What feeds faith is a sight of the glory of the Word of God and above all, a sight of the glory of Christ. Often, faith is little, faith is malnourished, because it is starved of Jesus” (180).  

Have you sat quietly to behold the profound glory of the Word of God? The supreme glory of Christ Himself? Have you been astonished by His majesty, by His trustworthiness, by His goodness, and as a result drawn nearer in faith? If your faith feels more like a superficial knowledge of God, come and look at Jesus. If your faith is alive but small, come and look at Jesus.

Open one of the Gospels, or the opening chapters of Ephesians, Colossians, Hebrews, 1 Peter, or Revelation 4 and 5. This glory is everywhere! Be captivated afresh by the ultimate and unfading beauty of our Saviour Jesus Christ.

Ancient, and often persecuted, Christians knew that they were speaking of the most rich and precious treasures in their souls when they gathered and acclaimed together:

Christ has died,
Christ has risen,
Christ will come again.

“Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2 NKJV) we will celebrate and rely upon Him on our winding journey Home, and be joyfully welcomed by Him at last.  

_{Macleod, Donald. A Faith to Live By. Christian Focus Publication, 2016.}

What were you thinking?

As we know all too well, fallen desire distorts our judgment, and left to ourselves we are enslaved to it. We can never make our break and so often live in regret.

Caught up in the business of life, earthly longing versus my satisfaction in Jesus has always been a pendulum relationship for me - one that frequently depended on my circumstances and has produced numerous bucket lists where “good” things crowd out the best. John Piper describes the concept of Christians ticking off these often self-absorbed checklists , especially in retirement, as follows:  

“That would be like a person on the way to inherit a million dollars spending the last mile picking up shiny pennies. It seems to me that it would make a lot more sense to spend the last mile emptying your pockets for lost and needy people.”  

Paul summarises his life goal for us in Philippians 3:12b. He says, “but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.”

If you’re a believer, this status equally applies to you. Christ Jesus has taken hold of you. This means we’re held as his possession on a journey towards the perfect fulfilment of our desires: being with him for eternity. We can try to satisfy our cravings with shiny pennies here on Earth, but don’t fall for it. There’s an inheritance worth so much more to lift our gaze.  

Earlier, Paul tells us in Philippians 3:8-9 that real contentment is all about the treasure of being known by, and found in, Christ.  

“What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him.”

What does it mean to take hold of that for which Christ took hold of you? This is embracing the Saviour who embraces you so that his desires become yours. You learn to know what he’s thinking. Only here do we find our completeness – not at the end of a bucket list.

So, as you walk this metaphorical last mile, empty your pockets of trivialities and temporal infatuations. Instead, draw close to Christ, so that you may hold on to him – and what matters to him – who has so powerfully, generously, and endlessly taken hold of you.

“How am I going to get through this?”

We’ve all asked this question. Maybe you’re asking it right now?

It could be the death of a loved one, a conflict with your spouse, a broken heart from a breakup, the pain of watching your child suffer, loneliness, fatigue, bullying, or an addiction that you can’t seem to break. Sin and pain come in a startling variety of ways.

In the first few centuries of the church, suffering regularly came through physical persecution. The Romans felt a large portion of its downfall was due to Christians not worshiping the gods of old.  With the threat of torture, they demanded Christian’s renounce Jesus. The extreme coercion included goring by bulls or savaging by dogs or roasting on red hot chairs of iron. Some recanted but many didn’t.

Concerning this, Tom Holland in his book Dominion writes, “The willingness of Christians to embrace excruciating tortures – which to those who sentenced them could only appear as lunacy – was founded on an awesome conviction: that their Saviour was by their side.”

The last words Jesus says to his disciples in the book of Matthew are, “I am with you always.” Christians for millennia have taken that seriously. That Jesus is with you, through the Holy Spirit, at all times, in all places. There is nowhere you can go that he will not be with you.

Like a cobblers peg on a sock as you go through a field, he’s with you. Like a piece of gum under the chair, he’s with you. Like a long-time friend on a walk around the block, he’s with you. Like the shepherd in the valley of the shadow of death, he’s with you. Like the “King of the Jews” crucified next to the penitent thief, he’s with you.

“So, how are you going to get through this?”

With the Saviour by your side in his unfailing love.

Jesus, the pharisees, a man with a withered hand, on the Sabbath - all this in the same place at the same time. Something has to give. The bases are loaded.

The disabled man is not right. He is not physically right. And he is in the presence of the one who created hands, the one who is the restorer of everything. With Jesus in the room, something has to give.

The pharisees are there too. They couldn’t care less about this man and his suffering. They only have one agenda – to get Jesus, trap him, entangle him in their rules and regulations. But they have blinkers on. They don’t realise who they have in front of them. He is the one who created the sabbath, the first one to ever rest on it. He knows what he’s doing. With Jesus on the scene, something has to give.

What happens in this story is what happens everywhere Jesus shows up - something has to give. He is a colossus of a person. No one can stay the same, everyone has to adjust to him. Here Jesus speaks directly to the man that everyone else ignores.

We shouldn’t be surprised. This was the same voice that spoke creation into existence out of nothing. His words are unstoppable. But this time it was even better. This time it was about restoration. A restoration which he brought about in the presence of those who wanted to kill the source of life. It was perfect.

One day he will speak like this to you too. He will look you in the eyes and say, “Stretch out and be restored.” And you will. The contorting, truncating, twisting effects of sin will be over, and you will become who he made you to be. You will be better than ever. Literally.

He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Philippians 1:6

These are the words Jesus spoke to the wind and the waves on the Sea of Galilee.

It wasn’t the first time. He said the same thing with different words many years earlier. Remember how creation started? “The earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep …” (Genesis 1:2) In the beginning creation was a rabble, a disordered dark rabble. Then Jesus spoke. And his speaking brought order, goodness, and peace. The stilling of the storm on Galilee wasthe creation story on repeat - “Peace! Be still!” (Mark 4:39)

A fallen world can make our hearts choppy. If you are anything like me, then you know how quicklythe winds of a fallen world can blow on your heart and turn it into a seemingly life-threatening, dark, foreboding sea. Troubles can cause it, worries can whip it up, failure can generate it, weakness can incite it. There seems to be no end of influences threatening to stir it up.

But we are not alone. We have one who speaks “Peace! Be Still!” to our hearts when they get choppy. Say it again Jesus. Say it to my heart again. Say it to every heart in Restoration Church. And then tell us again tomorrow.

How do you know God loves you? Like … really know. 

One of the best ways is to look at what Jesus did for you on the cross. His unreserved offering of himself for you is powerful proof of his love. But it isn’t the only piece of evidence you have. Like any loving relationship, there are other vantage points from which you can know that he loves you. 
 
Here’s another one: God has decided to make his home with you. Don’t miss the profundity of this. Home is a safe place, it is a place where we feel comfortable, a place where we can put our feet up and be ourselves. This is how God wants it to be with you. You and he at home with each other. 

If you look across the biblical story you will notice that God’s plan to dwell with his people is an age-old plan with a somewhat chequered history. It turns out that God’s people haven’t always wanted to be as close to him as he wanted to be to them. 
 
In the Old Testament, after a long period of unfaithfulness, God made the call to remove his presence from the temple and stop dwelling with his people. The prophet Ezekiel records this tragic moment (Ezekiel 10). It was devastating, but it wasn’t the last word. Before Ezekiel was done, he let God’s people know about a time to come where God would return and dwell with his people again: 

God did return to the temple. But not the physical one. He returned to live in you. If you love him, then your heart is the place he calls home. He likes being with you. He really loves you. 

It’s August 2011, about five weeks after Restoration Church was planted. I’m reflecting on how we started out. I’m thinking about what we have been doing, what we have been preaching, and how we have been serving those who took the risk to join us. And while I am thankful for all the positive things that are happening, I am also wondering why there aren’t more people flocking to join us. After all, we have been killing it for five weeks! 

It was a rookie error. A thought laced with arrogance and self-confidence and soaked in inexperience. I needed to learn what it takes to build something good. 

This principle applies to building anything that’s worthwhile – children, leadership, marriages, relationships. If you want to build something of value, something which really matters, then it won’t be enough to do just one beneficial thing, or even two or three. You need to do them again and again and again. So many that they pile up on one another. (Mums know what I am talking about.) Moment by moment, day after day, month after month, year after year. 

There are two biblical words which capture this idea – faithfulness and endurance. Faithfulness is about loyalty and reliability, and endurance is about following it through and going the distance. 

The church has grown a lot in the last 12 months, but it didn’t come out of nowhere. The growth we have seen has emerged out of the faithful deeds and endurance of the saints. Let’s continue to be people like this, people who keep turning up and doing good things in every place God has put us. 

This calls for patient endurance and faithfulness on the part of God’s people.
Revelation 13:10

How much are you worth? 

If you had to put a price on yourself, how high or low would you go? 
 
Around the 8th century BC God told the prophet Hosea to marry a prostitute. It was a shocking request – a huge challenge. But it wasn’t primarily about him. It was mainly about God’s people. It was aimed at them. They had been unfaithful to God for years and he wanted their attention. He was going to use Hosea’s scandalous marriage to Gomer as the plot-line which would uncover the truth about his people’s wandering hearts. 

Hosea went ahead with the wedding. Before long they had three children – two boys and a girl. The arrival of these three children looked like the beginnings of a nice little family (despite the names God gave them – check out Hosea 1). It appeared as though Gomer had settled down. But she hadn’t. At some point after their third child, she decided to go back to her former life. She left Hosea and became a prostitute again (Hosea 3). But this time it was different. This time she was a married woman, a mother, and a prostitute. 

It seemed like a tragic end to a classic love story. But this vivid real-life parable wasn’t over. It wasn’t the end. God spoke to Hosea and told him to go and get her back. But this time, instead of wooing her, he had to buy her. She had become a commodity. This is what sexual exploitation in all its forms does to people. It makes glorious image bearers mere objects to be used and abused. 

The price tag on Gomer was “fifteen shekels of silver and about a homer and a lethek of barley.” (Hosea 3:2) At today’s rates, that’s around $216 for the silver and $70 for the barley. She was worth about $290. That’s not a high price for a human. She was used goods and her true value had taken a hit. But it didn’t matter to Hosea. He paid the money to get her back without a second thought. Just like God did with you. 

When it comes to our condition before God, we were unfaithful, used, and abused too. Like Gomer, there were times when we brought trouble on ourselves and other times where people did it to us. What price would you have put on yourself at your worst? What value would other people have seen in you? Well, it doesn’t really matter what you or anyone else would pay. What matters is the price that God puts on you. What matters is the figure he is prepared to give to get you back. Ever wondered what that would be? 

Well, silver and barley would not do. He paid the highest price of all – his own blood, his own life. 

For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors,  but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.
1 Peter 1:18–19