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.

 PULELULU ‘EPELELI 8, 2026

2 SAMIUELA 12-15; FILIPAI 2:12-18

God's gift of forgiveness is not a guarantee of the removal of sin's consequences.

Ko e me’a’ofa ‘o e fakamolemole ‘a e ‘Otua, ‘oku ‘ikai te ne kaniseli ai pe ‘a e nunu’a ‘o e angahala na’e fakamolemole’i.

The Bible is full of reminders that the one who sits on the throne of the universe is a God of glorious grace. It shows us God's grace in story form, in poetic utterances, and in doctrinal explanations. Grace is a central theme in every part of the biblical revelation. But the Bible never presents God's grace in a way that would cause us to be less than serious about sin. You can't read your Bible and walk away saying, "Because God is a God of grace, it doesn't make any difference how I live, because, no matter what I do, I will be forgiven." The Bible never presents God's grace in a way that would make you feel free to go out and do what is wrong in God's eyes. Grace is not God's being permissive. God's grace always takes sin seriously. If sin were okay, there would be no need for grace. The cross of Jesus Christ stands as a monument to the fact that sin has penalties because God takes sin seriously.

One of the ways that the Bible protects us from misunderstanding the grace of God is by reminding us of the consequences of sin. Because God loves us, because he is jealous for our love, and because he is always seeking to draw us near, he has ordained many biblical stories that portray the consequences of sin. But Scripture does even more. It makes it clear that the grace of God's forgiveness doesn't always mean the removal of the consequences of sin. God is ready, willing, and able to forgive us, but often, for our spiritual good and his glory, the consequences remain. In this way, God welcomes us to run to him for the forgiveness that he is ready to offer while also cautioning us to be serious about the destructive nature of sin.

Grace and consequences do not work in opposition, but are meant, together, to draw us into a life of deeper gratitude and greater surrender to God. We see the operation of grace and the consequences of sin in the life of David after he commits adultery and murder. The prophet Nathan confronts David after his sin, and King David repents. Note how forgiveness and consequences come together in Nathan's final words to David: "The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die. Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the LORD, the child who is born to you shall die. Then Nathan went to his house" (2 Sam. 12:13-15). Forgiveness and consequences in the same statement. God's message is obvious: grace is glorious, sin is serious, and we need to hear both notes loudly and clearly. May we never celebrate grace while our actions scorn the Lord. And may our celebration of grace be even more exuberant because we grasp, with seriousness, the utter destructiveness of sin.