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.

 TUSITE ‘EPELELI 7, 2026

2 SAMIUELA 8-11; SIONE 5:37-41

Besides Jesus, no human hero is the Messiah; no human hero is divine; no human hero is perfect; and no human hero has unlimited power. So, besides Jesus, no human hero is worthy of your worship.

Tukukehe pe ‘a Sisu, ‘oku ‘ikai ha helo tangata ko ha Misaia; ‘oku ‘ikai ha helo tangata ‘e ‘Otua; ‘oku ‘ikai ha helo tangata ‘e haohaoa; pea ‘oku ‘ikai ha helo tangata ‘e ma’u ivi ta’e fakangatangata. Ko ia ai, tukukehe pe ‘a Sisu, ‘oku ‘ikai ha helo tangata ‘e taau ke fai ki ai ha hu. 

When you read your Bible, it's important to know what you're reading. Although the Bible is full of doctrine, it is not first a tome on systematic theology. Your Bible is loaded with divine wisdom, but it is not merely a book of wisdom for everyday life. The Bible has many great and interesting stories, but it is not simply a collection of stories with morals for your daily life. The Bible is not solely a compilation of lives of great heroes for your admiration or imitation. The Bible is a story, God's story. It is his biography; he is the hero of every story, and he is always on center stage. Every part of the Bible is meant to reveal God to us, that is, his attributes, his character, his plan, and his redeeming grace. The Bible should cause us to fall on our knees in humble confession and willing submission before the great Creator, Sovereign, Savior King whose glory splashes across its pages.

The Bible confronts our tendency toward hero worship by reminding us of two things. First, the Bible reminds us of the one who is behind every form of human success. The credit for the amazing heroic feats the Bible records always goes to the Lord. Second, the Bible reminds us that every human hero is flawed in some way - except Jesus. David's story is a clear example of both of these facts. His feats of strength, courage, and battle are many and amazing. But David is not actually the hero of David's story; God is. Second Samuel 8 records a list of some of David's many conquests, but note the summary of David's heroics in 2 Samuel 8:14: "And the LORD gave victory to David wherever he went." None of these victories is independently David's. None of them are solely the result of his wisdom, strength, or military prowess. David is victorious because the Lord fights for him. Credit for the defeat of every enemy he faces belongs to the Lord.

But something else is revealed in David's story. Like every other human here, except one, David is a sinner, capable of succumbing to temptation and disobeying the clear commands of the Lord. How sad it is to read about David's lust for Bathsheba, his taking her for his own, his murder of her husband, and then his claiming her for his wife. This is the same conquering hero. It is hard to imagine. We find another summary statement about David in 2 Samuel 11:27, this one the polar opposite of the first: "But the thing that David had done displeased the LORD." Great victory and tragic failure in the same man. The story is told this way to remind us that only one great hero is worthy of our worship: the God whose glory is revealed in every biblical story. May we worship him and him alone.

 MONITE ‘EPELELI 6, 2026

2 SAMIUELA ; SELEMAIA 7:1-15

Minimizing, ignoring, or doubting the perfect holiness of the Lord will never produce anything good in you or through you.

Ko hono fakasi’isi’i, fakasikaka’i, mo hono fehu’ia ‘a e ma’oni’oni haohaoa ‘o e ‘Otua, ‘e ‘ikai te ne fakatupu pe fou ha lelei ‘iate koe.

We don't have the vocabulary or categories to describe adequately the infinitely perfect holiness of our Lord. Nothing and no one is perfectly pure all of the time and in every way. The Hebrew word for holy means "other," set apart from everything else. In the complete holiness of his holiness, God is the great eternal other. There has never been and never will be anyone like him. His holiness is not a part of him; it is his essence. He is holiness through and through. He is holy in love, holy in wisdom, holy in power, holy in faithfulness, holy in anger, holy in grace, holy in patience, holy in judgment, holy in mercy, and so on. In all that he is, all of the time, he is perfectly holy. In this way he is unlike us. Here's why this is so important. Only when you understand the utter holiness of the Lord will you understand the horrible sinfulness of sin. Only in light of the holiness of God will you take his holy law seriously. Only when you understand the holiness of  the Lord will you be blown away by the generosity of his gift of redeeming grace. Easy-believism and moral boundary-breaking begins with forgetting the shocking holiness of God.

I am convinced that this is why God, in protective love, has preserved for us shocking reminders of his uncompromising holiness. These stories are hard for us to read. As sinners, we are tempted to think that God is overreacting or that his anger has too much control over him. It is important to humbly admit that when we wince at accounts of God's acting in holy anger, we do so because we wish God were just a little bit more flexible, a little more like us, and maybe not so holy all the time and in every way. His otherness makes us uncomfortable--and it should, because confessing how unlike him we are is the doorway to seeking his grace.

One of these uncomfortable holiness stories is found in 2 Samuel 6. The ark of the covenant, over which God's presence rested, was being transported on a cart (6:1-11). This was a violation of God's law concerning transportation of the ark, a visible representation of God's presence. God had commanded that priests carry it with wooden poles. The cart began to tip, so Uzzah, walking beside the ark, reached out to steady it, touched the ark, and was immediately struck dead. Our holy God is serious about his law and will not compromise his holy standards. This is why the cross was necessary. God would not turn his back on our sin; a penalty had to be paid. Rather than making us question the goodness of God, the death of Uzzah should cause us to celebrate the grace of Jesus that allows sinners to stand in the presence of a perfectly holy God.

 SAPATE ‘EPELELI 5, 2026

2 SAMIUELA 1-3; MATIU 18:21-35

Since we have been granted such grace from God, we should always respond to others with grace, even those who have mistreated us.

Koe’uhi ko e foaki kelesi kuo fai ‘e he ‘Otua ma’a kitautolu, ‘oku taau ke tau tali ‘aki ‘a e kelesi tatau ki he kakai kehee, ‘o a’u kia kinautolu ‘oku nau ngaohikovia kitautolu.

If I had been in Jesus's place - suffering the mistreatment, injustice, and torture he faced - I wonder what I would have done if I had had his power at my disposal. Even being tortured on the cross, Jesus expressed forgiveness for his torturers. Grace is the way of the cross. We cannot allow ourselves to take vengeance into our hands, by thought, words, or actions. We cannot allow ourselves to wish for or gloat over the demise of someone who has wronged us. It's wrong for us to celebrate grace while we wish condemnation on others. We cannot be content with loving our friends and hating our enemies when our Lord has called us to love our enemies, to pray for those who mistreat us, and to look for ways to do good to them. We all must fight the temptation to keep a record of wrongs, to allow bitterness to harden our hearts, and to fantasize about the suffering of others. Spite is not in our Lord's vocabulary of grace. To resist these things we need to be met by the very same grace that we are called to give.

We have an example of such grace in 2 Samuel 1:17-27, which records David's lament over the death of Saul and his son Jonathan. David chose to remember and recount the great things about this warrior king and his son. He wrote of might, valor, and conquests. He talked of how the children of Israel were blessed during Saul's reign. It's true that Saul made David's life very hard. Saul's jealousy made him long for and work toward David's death. But David did not use the occasion of Saul's demise to air all the evil that Saul had done to him and all the ways, in his pride and rebellion, that Saul had failed as God's appointed representative over Israel. This is not a poem written by a bitter man. David was a man of peace because he trusted in the Lord and, because he did, he was able to look at the life of Saul with grace. Here is a portion of David's lament:

Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely!

In life and in death they were not divided;

they were swifter than eagles;

they were stronger than lions.

You daughters of Israel, weep over Saul,

who clothed you luxuriously in scarlet,

who put ornaments of gold on your apparel.

How the mighty have fallen

in the midst of the battle!

Jonathan lies slain on your high places.

I am distressed for you, my brother Jonathan;

very pleasant have you been to me;

your love to me was extraordinary,

surpassing the love of women.

How the mighty have fallen,

and the weapons of war perished! (2 Sam. 1:23-27)

May we, upon whom great grace has been poured, have such gratitude in our hearts and rest in our Lord that we find greater joy in granting grace than we find in fantasizing about or celebrating the demise of those who have troubled us.

 TOKONAKI ‘EPELELI 4, 2026

1 SAMIUELA 28-31; SIONE 8:39-47

Sin is a liar. It makes promises it will never keep, offering life, but leading instead to destruction and death.

Ko angahala ko e tama loi. ‘Oku ne palomesi ‘a e me’a ‘oku ‘ikai te ne lava ke fakahoko, tu’uaki mai ‘a e mo’ui, ka ko hono iku’angaa ko e mate mo e ‘auha.

It's important to realize that, until we are on the other side, with peace and righteousness reigning forever and ever, we will be told lies every day. When Satan first enters the scene in the garden of Eden, he proves himself to be a liar. The business of sin is deceit; its promises cannot be trusted. The good life that sin offers is the ultimate evil sleight of hand. I once watched card sharks on a street in Philadelphia. They made it look as though money were ready to be made, but the players always lost. I walked away wondering why anybody would ever play. But I knew the answer: the delusion of easy money drew players in. Similarly, we are deceived into thinking that blessing, benefit, and real life can be found somewhere outside of God's boundaries. Adam and Eve bought into that delusion, and people have been buying in ever since. Sin dangles, we reach, and nothing good happens in the end.

First Samuel 31 records the sad end of Saul's life. This final account of King Saul's life should make us weep:

Now the Philistines were fighting against Israel, and the men of Israel fled before the Philistines and fell slain on Mount Gilboa. And the Philistines overtook Saul and his sons, and the Philistines struck down Jonathan and Abinadab and Malchi-shua, the sons of Saul. The battle pressed hard against Saul, and the archers found him, and he was badly wounded by the archers. Then Saul said to his armor-bearer, "Draw your sword, and thrust me through with it, lest these uncircumcised come and thrust me through, and mistreat me." But his armor-bearer would not, for he feared greatly. Therefore Saul took his own sword and fell upon it. And when his armor-bearer saw that Saul was dead, he also fell upon his sword and died with him. (1 Sam. 31:1-5)

What a tragic end to this anointed king's life. The army of the king was completely defeated, his sons were killed in battle, and Saul died by suicide. When we read this account, we find it hard to remember the glory days when Saul was anointed as the first king of Israel. Saul has listened to and chased sin's lie. He knowingly stepped over God's boundaries, while excusing his transgressions. What was Saul thinking? Where did he tell himself the story would end? Did he really think he was smarter than God? Did he reason that God would simply ignore his rebellion?

I am persuaded that this account is in our Bibles because God loves us and wants to warn us. The wages of sin really is death (Rom. 6:23), and we all buy into sin's deceit. That's why we need to be rescued from ourselves, and why God in grace sent his Son to be the rescuer. Jesus offers us not only real life with a joyous end, but also power right here, right now to stand against sin's deceit. Run to him - he won't turn you away.