PULELULU ‘EPELELI 15, 2026

1 TU’I 8-11; SIOPE 38:1-18

God, who is infinite and omnipresent, cannot be limited by time and space.

Ko e ‘Otua, ‘a ia ‘oku ‘ikai ha no ngata’anga pea ‘oku ne ‘i he potu kotoa pe, ‘oku ‘ikai lava ke ‘akilotoa ia ‘i he taimi mo ha potu.

Some of the most important and profound conversations with our children would just sneak up on us. They didn't come in scheduled moments. A side comment in the car on the way to practice opened up an important talk. A moment of reflection on the day started a significant interchange that went on into the night. We had to be prepared, looking for those moments and being ready and willing when they came. So it is with the word of God. Some of the most significant theological moments in Scripture seem to sneak up on us. They aren't preceded by a warning in all caps: WARNING: DOCTRINAL INSTRUCTION IN THE NEXT SENTENCE. They may come as an editorial comment in a historical passage or embedded in the verse of a poem or hanging in the middle of a prayer. Be looking for those moments when God pulls back the curtain, revealing who he is, how he works, or the nature of his plan.

We find one of these profound theological moments in the middle of Solomon's prayer at the dedication of the temple:

Will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built! Yet have regard to the prayer of your servant and to his plea, O LORD my God, listening to the cry and to the prayer that your servant prays before you this day, that your eyes may be open night and day toward this house, the place of which you have said, "My name shall be there," that you may listen to the prayer that your servant offers toward this place. And listen to the plea of your servant and of your people Israel, when they pray toward this place. And listen in heaven your dwelling place, and when you hear, forgive. (1 Kings 8:27-30)

It is important to understand that God is not physical like us. He is not limited by boundaries of space or time. He lives in an eternal now, and he is everywhere. This truth presents a bit of a spiritual quandary for Solomon. If heaven and earth are unable to contain God, how much less will the temple that Solomon has just built be able to contain him? Yes, the Lord is in the temple that he has attached his name to, but the temple is not able to contain him.

The limitless, everywhereness of God is a precious truth, but at the same time it is hard for us to conceive. We are physical people, living in a physical space and surrounded by physical things. We are limited, and we spend so much of our time coming and going. But not God. The promises of God are connected to his everywhereness. I can trust his promises because I know God will always be in the place where these promises need to be delivered. All of this makes the incarnation even more stunning. God takes on human flesh. The limitless one takes on human limits to provide what limited human beings cannot provide for themselves. What grace!

 TUSITE ‘EPELELI 14, 2026

1 TU’I 6-7; SAAME 50:7-15

All of our religious habits and practices are empty if the Lord doesn't dwell in the temple of our hearts.

‘E iku kula launoa ‘a e ouau fakalotu mo e ngaue kotoa ‘oku tau fai, kapau ‘oku ‘ikai ‘afio ‘a e ‘Otua ‘i he temipale hotau loto.

I was on a high mountain at a large Buddhist temple. Priests and iconic Buddhist images were everywhere. On an elevated platform in the main temple sat a huge golden Buddha, twelve to fifteen feet high. All around me were very sincere and religious people. They lit and strategically placed candles, got down on their knees, and bowed their heads nearly to the ground. You could sense their sincerity, awe, and joy at being there. The scene was both engaging and heartbreaking to me. The whole place was buzzing with religious fervor. Around me was the low drone of huge bells that the priests would ring. But, despite the religious activity and spiritual sincerity, the temple was, in reality, completely empty. It was empty of any divine presence, and the god that people worshiped was a sorry handmade replacement for the one true God.

Religion - spiritual habits, practices, and pursuits - is empty and meaningless if God is not the Lord who reigns over and is worshiped by the hearts of all its practitioners. True religion is about more than buildings, spiritual disciplines, or creeds. True spirituality is about the presence of God. If God isn't dwelling in the center of it, then despite all the visible elements of a religion, it simply isn't the real deal. 

In 1 Kings 6, as Solomon is building the temple (a huge time, money, and attention commitment), God reminds him of what is even more important than this historical religious edifice that he is about to construct. What is more important than this temple? God's dwelling in the midst of his people. That building would be empty of its meaning and purpose if the Lord did not dwell there. And the people of Judah would be without identity, purpose, power, or future hope if God didn't live in the midst of them as well.

This is true of every form of spiritual pursuit and practice. It all lacks purpose, power, and hope if God isn't central, dwelling as Lord in the midst of it. The thing that makes true religion true cannot be achieved by building edifices, achieving seminary degrees, or amassing large crowds. True religion is only ever a gift of God's grace, evidenced when a perfectly holy God dwells in the midst of his less than holy people and sanctifies them by his presence and power. In his presence we find identity, forgiveness, power for living, and future hope. Jesus paid our penalty so that we would be blessed to live in God's presence now and in the forever that is to come. God is not satisfied with buildings, degrees, or programs. He will settle for nothing less than being Lord of the temple that is our hearts. 

 MONITE ‘EPELELI 13, 2026

1 TU’I 3-5; MA’AKE 10:35-45

If God told you he would grant you one wish, what would you ask for?

Kapau na’e talaatu ‘e he ‘Otua te ne foaki atu ha me’a pe te ke kole, ko e ha ho’o me’a ‘e kole?

We were in a big, flashy toy store. This place was any child's dream. I could see in my granddaughter's eyes that she was dazzled by everything around her. She let go of my hand as we walked down the first aisle. It was stocked to the ceiling with the latest and greatest toys. When she looked up at me, I said words to her that every child wishes to hear: "Pick one thing you want, and I will buy it for you." I had purposely set no limits of size or price. She looked up at me with a big smile on her face and said one single word: "Really?" I said, "Yes, whatever you want, but just one thing." We proceeded to take a rather long journey up and down the aisles of the toy store until I knew its geography by heart. She would stop for a minute and ponder. She would pick up an occasional toy, but she never made the big choice. Finally, she wandered to the back of the store and chose a book. She said, "Toys get boring real quick, but books stay interesting much longer.” I walked away impressed at her little-girl values and wisdom.

If your heavenly Father said to you, "I will give you any one thing you want," what would you ask for? The question itself gets at the war that takes place in all of our hearts, between a life shaped by worship and service of the Creator and one shaped by love of and craving for the creation. As Solomon ascends to the throne, God says to him, "Ask what I shall give you" (1 Kings 3:5). Solomon doesn't ask for the best palace ever, for military power, to be loved by many, or to be fabulously rich. No, he asks for something that has more lasting value than all of those things combined. Solomon asks for the thing that is so valuable that money can't buy it and that is so humanly unnatural that only God can give it. Solomon asks for wisdom: "Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this your great people?" (1 Kings 3:9). It takes a heart for God in order to resist asking for material things; it takes true humility in order to admit that you're not wise enough to do the thing that God has called you to do; and it takes faith in order to believe that God is the only true source of wisdom you need. The next verse says that Solomon's request pleased the Lord.

My request today is that my Lord would be pleased by what my heart craves. For that to be true, I need his rescuing and empowering grace. I know that grace is mine because long after Solomon's request, these words were written: "[Jesus] died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Cor. 5:15).

 SAPATE ‘EPELELI 12, 2026

1 TU’I 1-2; ‘EFESO 6:1-4

It is crucial that the children of God listen to and follow their Father's counsel.

‘Oku mahu’inga ki he fanau ‘a e ‘Otua ke nau fanongo mo muimui ki he akonaki ‘a e Tamai.

My father was a broken, imperfect man. He didn't act or parent perfectly, but he left me with many words of counsel that I have carried throughout my life. So much of his counsel had to do with work. He told me that work was a dignity and not a curse. He said, "They can take away your job, but they can't take away your willingness and ability to work." He told me how important it is to always be willing to learn. He told me on one occasion that I could fool many people but that God is never fooled. True, my father could have made many better life choices, but I am thankful for the wisdom he imparted to me.

First Kings 2:1-4 records a father's final counsel to his son. David is at death's door; Solomon is going to succeed him as king. These are David's words of counsel:

When David's time to die drew near, he commanded Solomon his son, saying, "I am about to go the way of all the earth. Be strong, and show yourself a man, and keep the charge of the LORD your God, walking in his ways and keeping his statutes, his commandments, his rules, and his testimonies, as it is written in the Law of Moses, that you may prosper in all that you do and wherever you turn, that the LORD may establish his word that he spoke concerning me, saying, 'If your sons pay close attention to their way, to walk before me in faithfulness with all their heart and with all their soul, you shall not lack a man on the throne of Israel."

It is hard to overstate the spiritual value of these brief words of wisdom from a dying dad. I especially appreciate how David defines what it will mean for Solomon to be a strong man. His definition is not about brash, bullying, big-personality, muscled machismo. No, David knows that true strength is about walking in the ways of the Lord, as defined by the law of Moses, no matter what. The strength that really makes a difference is spiritual strength. Everyone's life is directed and shaped by what one's heart values and serves. The big battle is an internal battle, the fight for control of your thinking, desires, and choices. There is no more important show of strength than to stand strong in the way of the Lord. And, because this is a high standard, too high for us to reach on our own, this strength is only ever the result of God's grace.

When I read David's words, I think not only of my earthy father, but also of my infinitely wise, kind, and loving heavenly Father. I am thankful that, by grace, he has chosen me to be his child and has made my heart receptive to his always-wise counsel. I am aware that I have no wisdom of my own; he is my wisdom. The question is, Will I submit to his wise counsel, or go my own foolish way?

 TOKONAKI ‘EPELELI 11, 2026

2 SAMIUELA 22-24; MA’AKE 12:28-34

When it comes to biblical truth, insightful people are those not simply with the right answers but with the right questions, which lead to the right answers.

Fekau’aki mo e mo’oni faka-Folofola, ko kinautolu ‘oku nau ma’u ‘a e maamaa, ‘oku ‘ikai ngata pe ‘i he’enau ma’u ‘a e ngaahi tali ‘oku tonu, ka ‘oku nau fai ‘a e fehu’i lelei ke ma’u mei ai ‘a e ngaahi tali ‘oku tonu.

The Bible is not just a book with life-changing answers; it is also a record of profound questions. In the garden of Eden, when God asks Adam, "Where are you?" we are confronted with the fact that something is terribly wrong and that the world will never be the same again (Gen. 3:9). Divine image bearers, Adam and Eve, are now hiding from their Creator; shalom has been shattered. Later Abraham asks a thunderously important question, appealing for God's mercy: "Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?" (Gen. 18:25). How about the practicality of this question: "How can a young man keep his way pure?" (Ps. 119:9)? Paul's question in Romans 6:1-"Are we to continue in sin that grace may abound?"-exposes and addresses a significant misunderstanding of the gospel. The questions of the Bible are recorded to expose our hearts, enlighten our minds, guard and protect us, deepen our faith, stimulate a sense of spiritual need and hunger, and move us to love God more fully and deeply.

Near the end of King David's life, this poet and musician composes a lengthy and gloriously celebratory song of deliverance. In this song he celebrates the faithfulness of God's protection. Humbly, David makes it known that his enemies were defeated not because of his independent military prowess and power, but by the almighty presence and power of God. This song is not that of a conquering general, pumping out his chest and saying, "Look what I have done." No, it is a hymn of praise from start to finish. We would do well to stop occasionally and write our own songs of thanksgiving.

In the song David asks the best, most important questions ever. How you answer these questions will determine where your heart goes and how you will then live your life: 

Who is God, but the LORD?

And who is a rock, except our God? (2 Sam. 22:32)

For David, these are rhetorical questions. His life is a narrative of the unparalleled majesty and splendor of his God. There is no one like the Lord. No one is righteous like the Lord. No one has power like the Lord. No one is faithful like the Lord. He alone is a rock of surety upon which life and hope can stand. "Who is God, except our God?" The resounding answer is, "No one." 

As you encounter this particular question, you must understand that many are battling for the rule of your heart. Many lords want to be the lord of your life. The pool of God-replacements is as deep as our wandering hearts and as wide as the creation around us. False gods whisper lies in our ears every day. David's rhetorical questions speak to the heart of the great spiritual war: "Who will be your God?" May God's grace enable us to give the right answer to this most important question of all.

 FALAITE ‘EPELELI 10, 2026

2 SAMIUELA 19-21; ‘AISEA 25:6-9

There will be a day when God will dry the last tear from our eyes, and we will never weep again.

‘E ‘i ai ha ‘aho ‘e holoholo’i ai ‘e he ‘Otua ‘a e lo’imata faka’osi mei hotau ngaahi fofonga, pea ‘e ‘ikai te tau toe tangi.

When I got the call, the life almost went out of me, and it wasn't even concerning my own daughter. The girl's mom called and told me that, after calling and searching all over the house for her daughter, she had found her in their basement. She was dead, with her suicide note lying next to her. The depth of grief in this mother's voice, interrupted by haunting wails, would suck the life out of any caring human being. I knew I had to go to her, but I dreaded entering that house. I felt emotionally and spiritually empty. All of the things I rehearsed in my heart to say when I arrived seemed woefully inadequate or inappropriate.

The theological things I knew that spoke to this horrible moment seemed distant, sterile, impersonal. When I entered the house, I could physically feel the grief. It was as though a horrible, heart-crushing cloud had filled that home. It made it hard to think and hard to breathe. The family cried and I cried. I held on to them in the silent awe of loss. I left them that night emotionally spent, but I knew they would never leave, never escape, never forget. Yesterday she was in the kitchen doing homework; today she was in the basement lifeless, a horror too powerful to grasp.

Absalom had been David's little boy. David had held him close to his heart as an infant. He had played with him as a toddler. He had watched his personality and gifts develop. He had experienced Absalom's searching mind and developing leadership gifts. David had enjoyed many loving, nurturing, wisdom-giving, discipling, fun-filled, and proud dad moments with his son. Nothing could have prepared David for what Absalom would do and the horrible way Absalom would die. David was overcome, controlled, and imprisoned by his grief (2 Sam. 18). It is right to feel and to cry out in grief, but it is dangerous to be ruled by it. So God raised up Joab to confront David, calling the king to return to the work God had anointed him to do.

Joab's words in 2 Samuel 19 may seem harsh and unloving, but grief is both appropriate and potentially destructive. It must never control our hearts, become our identity, or shape our future hope. Now, I am talking not about denying powerful and appropriate emotions, but about remembering who we are and what we have been given as children of God. 

In horrible moments of tragedy and loss, we have four things from the Lord. We have his presence. He is with us and for us in our grief. We have his power. He blesses us with the same power by which Jesus was raised from the dead. We have his promises. These represent the present and future help that he has guaranteed each of his children. We have his commands. Scripture tells us how to live, no matter what we are facing. God meets us in the worst, most unthinkable moments with the grace of his presence, power, promises, and commands, and through them he gives us just what we need in our deepest times of need. What love!

 TU’APULELULU ‘EPELELI 9, 20226

2 SAMIUELA 16-18; SAAME 44:1-26

The Bible does not present a sanitized world, but is graphically honest about the pains, losses, and griefs of life in a fallen world.

‘Oku ‘ikai ke ‘omi ‘e he Folofolaa ha ‘ata ma’a pe ‘o e mamani ko eni, ka ‘oku tala mo’oni mai ‘a e faingata’a, mole mo e mamahi ‘i he mamani fonu angahala.

Scripture portrays a world that we find familiar. It's a broken world, not always functioning as the Creator intended. It's populated by less than perfect people. All the sad, disappointing dramas that we face are found in the pages of our Bibles. The Bible reminds us that God understands what we face and hears our cries, just like he heard the cries of the characters in his word who cried out in their weakness, fear, disappointment, pain, loss, and grief. The presence, power, promises, and grace of God that we read about in Scripture are all the more comforting to us because they occur in a world that is like ours, with the high mountains and deep, dark valleys that every human travels. As the blood and dirt of this fallen world splash across the pages of Scripture, the glories of God's kingdom of love and grace shine even more brightly and beautifully.

Your Bible contains stories of war, political intrigue, family betrayal, famine, religious persecution, suicide, injustice - the list goes on. This lets you know two things. First, God fully understands the broken world that is your address. Your world is accurately painted on the canvas of Scripture. Second, God's grace addresses all of the brokenness both inside and outside of you. Someday this broken world will be made completely new, free from all the sad things that you find in your Bible and in your own life.

One of the saddest stories in all of Scripture is the story of King David and his seditious son, Absalom. Absalom is obsessed with his father's power and begins to conspire to take his father's throne, the throne David had received by the anointing of God. In a monarchy, if someone is going to take the throne, the sitting king must die. David is forced to leave the throne and hide out in caves from the murderous intent of his own son. As you read this story, you know that there is no way it is going to have a good ending. Eventually, it is reported to David that Absalom has been killed, but there is no joy in David's heart. Hear the words of this distraught and grieving father: "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!"  (2 Sam. 18:33).

It's heart-wrenching to read. The account of Absalom and David is in your Bible to tell you not simply that God will preserve the line of David out of which the Messiah will come, but also that God understands and hears our deepest cries of grief and dismay. David's cry represents the cries of thousands and thousands of grieving fathers and mothers, cries that do not go unheard by our tenderhearted and compassionate Lord.