Tuesday, March 31, 2026

 TUSITE MA’ASI 31, 2026

1 SAMIUELA 15-17; NOMIPA 23:19-20


We serve a God who is sure. He knows no mystery, never lies, makes no mistakes, and has no regrets.


‘Oku tau tauhi ki ha ‘Otua pau. ‘Oku ‘ikai ha me’a ‘e puli kiate ia, ‘oku ‘ikai te ne loi, ‘ikai ha fehalaaki pea ‘oku ‘ikai ha feto’oaki.


Every human being is burdened at some point by regrets. We all look back and wish we hadn't said certain things. We are burdened by poor choices we made or by decisions we wish we could remake. As a dad, I wish I could remove some conversations with my children from history and from their memories. Sin mars our track record. The path behind us is littered with mistakes, weaknesses, failures, and sins. Along the way we've had to face our regrets, confess our sins, admit our weaknesses, and run again and again to our Lord's forgiving grace. There will be a day of no more regrets, no more sin to confess, and complete liberation from our weaknesses, but we regularly prove that we are not there yet. This is why I find comfort and hope in the declaration Samuel made after he announced that God had rejected disobedient Saul as king: "The Glory of Israel will not lie or have regret, for he is not a man, that he should have regret" (1 Sam. 15:29). Repeat to yourself, "God is not like me. God is not like me. God is not like me," and then bask in the glorious comfort of those words.


Human relationships are messy, difficult, and hurtful because we fail, we do regrettable things, we carry weakness with us, and we are less than perfect. Every good premarital counselor warns the prospective husband and wife that they are marrying someone less than perfect. The shalom of a human community free from regret was shattered the moment Adam and Eve conspired to disobey God. But God is not like us. He is the absolute perfection of perfection. His every intention is completely pure. The complete perfection of his holiness means he cannot lie. He never needs a second chance or a fresh start. He never needs to be forgiven. He will forever have nothing to confess. He is the definition of what it means to be holy, right, and true all of the time, in every place, and in every way. No regrets, no lies-God is not like us.


In a moment of massive human failure (Saul's) with massively significant consequences (Israel is once again without a king), Samuel points Israel and us to where unfailing hope can be found. We live in a world where we-and everyone and everything around us-fail us in some way. But we can entrust ourselves to one who never lies and has no regrets. God is not like us; he is perfectly sure and eternally trustworthy. Preach to yourself the gospel of God's perfection, and rest in his unfailing care.


Monday, March 30, 2026

 MONITE MA’ASI 30, 2026

1 SAMIUELA 13-14; SAAME 51:1-19


When you sin, you have only two choices: either you confess your sin to God or you create excuses that make that sin acceptable to your conscience.


‘I he taimi ‘oku fai angahala ai, ‘oku ua pe ho’o me’a ‘e fai: ko ho’o vete ho’o angahala ki he ‘Otua, pea ko ho’o kumi tonuhia ke ngali lelei ki ho konisenisi.


"I forgot."

"I didn't understand you."

"He distracted me."

"I thought you meant later."

"I was gonna do it."

"Why didn't she have to do it too?"

"I ran out of time."

"Mom asked me to do something else first."


I could fill pages with the excuses my children gave when they failed to obey me. Now, don't be too hard on your children. If you're honest, you have to admit that sometimes you do the same thing. When you sin, you have two choices. The better choice is to admit that you have sinned, confess it to God, and rest in his forgiving grace. But often we opt for the second choice. We erect arguments that make our sins look not so sinful after all, and those sins then become acceptable to our hearts. Instead of confessing our sins, we argue for our righteousness with a litany of excuses meant to get us off the moral hook. We blame a bad attitude on not feeling well. We say our irritability and impatience are the result of busyness. We say our lust isn't sexual but just an enjoyment of beauty. We rationalize yelling at our children as righteous anger. The problem is that you and I can't minimize our sin without devaluing the gift of God's grace. The more you preach your own righteousness to yourself, the less you'll seek and celebrate God's grace.


In 1 Samuel 13, Saul is waiting for the prophet Samuel and, as he waits, he does something that God had forbidden him to do. He offers a sacrifice. In his law, God had forbidden anyone to independently make a sacrifice to him. He had appointed and set apart priests to offer sacrifices on behalf of his people. When Samuel confronts Saul with his sin, listen to where Saul's heart goes and what he then says:


Samuel said, "What have you done?" And Saul said, "When I saw that the people were scattering from me, and that you did not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines had mustered at Michmash, I said, 'Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the favor of the LORD. So I forced myself, and offered the burnt offering" (1 Sam. 13:11-12)


In the face of his sin being exposed, Saul does two things: he blames Samuel for being late, and he sanctifies his sin by saying he was seeking the favor of the Lord. The kicker in Saul's system of self-excuse comes when he says, "So I forced myself…”


It is always biblical/gospel insanity to deny, minimize, or excuse your sin. Why? Because God reveals himself again and again as patient, kind, tenderhearted, and forgiving. He never turns his back on sinners who come to him in humble confession and with repentant hearts. Excusing sin never goes anywhere good; confessing sin always produces good fruit. So run to God in humble confession; he will greet you with mercy and bless you with his redeeming love.


Sunday, March 29, 2026

 SAPATE MA’ASI 29, 2026

1 SAMIUELA 9-12; MATIU 28:18-20


God goes with the one he sends, and the one he calls he faithfully empowers.


‘Oku fononga ‘a e ‘Otua mo e tokotaha ‘oku Ne fekau’i pea tokotaha ‘oku Ne ui, ‘oku Ne fakaivia.


The fool loves independence. Like a young child who wants to tie his shoe but does not know how and who slaps away his mother's hand when she reaches to help him, so is the foolish and spiritually immature person. By grace, the more you walk with the Lord, the more you come to know him and get to know yourself, the more you consider his high calling on your life, and the more you are struck by your own weakness and inability. Nothing God calls us to is possible in our own strength. Whether character or command, we have no ability whatsoever to independently live up to God's wise and holy standards. This is why you see this statement repeated throughout the biblical narrative: "I will be with you." We look to God not only for direction but also for empowerment.


So when Saul is being appointed and anointed as king of Israel, it makes sense that this would be recorded: "Then the Spirit of the LORD will rush upon you, and you will prophesy with them and be turned into another man. Now when these signs meet you, do what your hand finds to do, for God is with you" (1 Sam. 10:6-7). That the "Spirit of the LORD will rush upon" Saul means that God will fill him with the power he needs in order to do what God has appointed him to do. God's power is so significant that Saul will be "turned into another man." This does not mean that his physical appearance or personality will change; rather, God will so thoroughly equip him for the task to which he

has been called that he will be like a new man. This empowerment is not for Saul but through Saul, for the good of God's people and for the glory of the Lord.


As we read separate parts of the grand biblical story, we must remember that the central character of every chapter of the biblical story is the Lord. The biblical story is his story. He is on center stage, and the spotlight is always on him. The human characters are the means by which God reveals who he is, how he works, and what his plan is. In the story of Saul's anointing, we see God's zeal for his plan and for his people and, through them, his plan for all the nations on earth. When God calls us, he empowers us - not just because he is loving and kind and knows we are weak, but because we are the instruments through which he will accomplish his plan that he set in place before the world was created. He is the one who raises up kings, and he is the one who brings them down.


Saul was part of something infinitely bigger than himself, bigger even than Israel. Out of Israel would come another king, a Lamb King, who would shed his blood for the forgiveness of sins and secure the promises that someday everything damaged by sin would be made new again.


Saturday, March 28, 2026

 TOKONAKI MA’ASI 28, 2026

1 SAMIUELA 4-8; ‘AISEA 42:8-12


Always remember that the Lord Almighty reigns in glory, and he will not give his glory to another.


Manatu’i ma’u pe ‘oku hau ‘a e ‘Otua Mafimafi mei Kololia pea ‘e ‘ikai te ne toe ‘ave hono langilangi ki ha taha.


I love good comedy. I love comedic moments that are unsettling and awkward, because in those moments the messiness of the personalities, intentions, and responses of human beings are being unclothed. There are moments in great comedies when I feel the awkwardness and think, "This guy is naked (metaphorically); everyone in the room knows it except him." You laugh as you cringe. You feel sorry for the guy, but you also like that he has been exposed. Comedy can break through our defenses, allowing us to examine and admit things that a lecture about the same things wouldn't allow. God gave us the ability to laugh. Humor is one of his good gifts, but even this gift is meant to point to God's existence and his glory.


There is divine comedy in the Bible. If you don't see it, then you have probably missed the power of the narrative that God has preserved for you. First Samuel 5 contains one of those moments. It is holy hilarity at its best. The Philistines have captured the ark of the covenant and, because they have, they are convinced that their god, Dagon, is more powerful than Jehovah, the Lord Almighty, the Creator and controller of everything that is. Now let yourself step into the cosmic ridiculousness of this. Could this god of stone, which at some point was crafted by human hands, ever be compared to the Lord of lords, let alone be greater than him? Watch what happens next; it should make you chuckle with awe:


And when the people of Ashdod rose early the next day, behold, Dagon had fallen face downward on the ground before the ark of the LORD. So they took Dagon and put him back in his place. But when they rose early on the next morning, behold, Dagon had fallen face downward on the ground before the ark of the LORD, and the head of Dagon and both his hands were lying cut off on the threshold. Only the trunk of Dagon was left to him. (1 Sam. 5:3-4)


How awkward! Great, conquering Dagon now lies face flat before the ark of the Lord, as though in worshipful surrender (5:3). God will not give his glory to another. The scene should make you chuckle at the complete impotency of this idol in the face of the glory of the Lord. But the divine comedy of this moment isn't over. The Philistines, in a vain effort to hold on to the delusion of Dagon's power, prop him up again, only to find him toppled again, this time with his head and hands cut off, his powerlessness now rendered even more powerless.


When I read this, I hear the heavenly host laughing. It's the laughter of praise. God won't give his glory to another. Psalm 2:4 tells us, "He who sits in the heavens laughs." There are moments when it is spiritually good for us to laugh, too, as we consider the ridiculous impotency of anything that would challenge the will and glory of our great and glorious Lord.


Friday, March 27, 2026

 FALAITE MA’ASI 27, 2026

1 SAMIUELA 1-3; Luke 1:46-55


God's grace should make you sing. What better songs could you sing than ones about his power, his mercy, his forgiveness, and his love?


Ko e kelesi ‘a e ‘Otua ‘oku totonu ke ne ue’i koe ke ke hiva. Ko e ha ha hiva ‘e toe lelei ange ka ko e hiva kau ki hono mafi, meesi, fakamolemole mo ‘ene ‘ofa?


I grew up in a singing family. My sister played the piano, and I think my mom had memorized the entire hymnal. I grew up singing the great hymns of the faith, and I can still sing most of them without looking at the written words. I am thankful for the world of song. Songs give wings to the emotions of our hearts. With songs we celebrate, and with songs we mourn. With songs we remind ourselves of who we are and who God is. Songs commemorate huge victories and dark defeats. But the thing I like best about songs is their ability to paint in our minds the deep truths of the word of God in ways that are beautiful and memorable. Some of the most beautiful and penetrating theology ever written is found in the great hymns of the church. I love that the church will never stop writing and singing new songs of God's glory and redeeming grace.


First Samuel 2 records Hannah's song of thanksgiving and praise. She sang this song after God heard her cries as a barren woman and gave her a son, Samuel. Hannah's song is exuberant and joyful, and also theologically rich and deep. It reads much like a psalm and, as with the Psalms, we need to slow down, spend time in it, and let its content fill our minds and grip our hearts. In her song Hannah reminds us of who God is and where true and lasting hope and joy are to be found. Here is a portion her song:

The LORD kills and brings to life;

he brings down to Sheol and raises up.

The LORD makes poor and makes rich;

he brings low and he exalts.

He raises up the poor from the dust;

he lifts the needy from the ash heap

to make them sit with princes

and inherit a seat of honor.

For the pillars of the earth are the LORD's,

and on them he has set the world.

He will guard the feet of his faithful ones,

but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness,

for not by might shall a man prevail.

The adversaries of the LORD shall be broken to pieces;

against them he will thunder in heaven.

The LORD will judge the ends of the earth;

he will give strength to his king

and exalt the horn of his anointed. (1 Sam. 2:6-10)


Hannah reminds us that life and death are in the Lord's hands. And, along with his awesome power, he meets the poor and hungry with mercy and tenderheartedness. I find the final words of her song striking: "He will give strength to his king / and exalt the power of his anointed." Here Hannah, speaking better than she knows, points us to the coming of the ultimate victorious King, Jesus. Every song of sovereignty and grace points us ultimately to him.


Thursday, March 26, 2026

 TU’APULELULU MA’ASI 26, 2026

LUTE 1-4; 1 PITA 1:3-12


Often when God seems absent in moments of hardship, he is actually exercising his sovereignty to deliver good gifts of grace to his children.


Taimi lahi ‘oku tau pehee ‘oku puli ‘a e ‘Otua ‘i he taimi ‘o e faingata’aa, ka ko e taiimi ia ‘oku ne fakahaa’i ai ‘a ‘ene pule aoniu ‘aki ‘ene tufa mai ‘a e me’a’ofa ‘o ‘ene kelesi ki he’ene fanau.


We have all been through tough moments of suffering when we wonder where God is and are confused about what he is doing. If you read through the biblical narrative, you will soon have to let go of the conclusion that hardship means God is absent, distant, uninvolved, or uncaring. Behind dark clouds of difficulty is a God who is actively working for the good of his children. God regularly takes his children places they never would have planned to go in order to produce in and through them things they never could have produced on their own. It's important to recognize that the workings of God's

grace aren't always predictable or comfortable. Often when we think grace has passed us by, God's grace is at work, just not in the way we expect.


The book of Ruth, one of the greatest biblical stories, contains a compelling and beautiful substory. On the surface Ruth is a beautiful love story, and one of the few biblical stories with women as main characters. But there is a deeper, more significant love story in the book of Ruth. It is the story of God's unshakable, unstoppable love for his children. This story of human hardship and human love is also God's assurance that he will exercise his wisdom and his sovereignty, he will remember his covenant promises, he will be faithful, and, through hardship, he will deliver gifts of kindness and grace to his own. Although the story of Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz is compelling, the one on center stage is the Lord. Through the vehicles of hardship and human love, God establishes the direction of the rest of the redemptive story.


At the end of the story, Ruth and Boaz have a son. We read, "Then Naomi took the child and laid him on her lap and became his nurse. And the women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, 'A son has been born to Naomi. They named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David" (Ruth 4:16-17). These words give us a sense of what this story has been about all along. God doesn't just deliver Ruth and unite her to Boaz, but he delivers to this family a son. This son, Obed, will have a son, Jesse, and Jesse will have a son, David, and ultimately out of David will come a son, the Son of David, Jesus. Through this little story of hardship and love, God sets things in place to deliver something: the ultimate promise, the gift of gifts, the Savior, Jesus Christ,  through whom God's redeeming love will flow.


God will work and continue to work his redeeming plan until that plan is complete; this is the ultimate story behind every other story. Remember that it is at the intersection of God's sovereignty and his grace that life and hope are to be found.


Wednesday, March 25, 2026

 PULELULU MA’ASI 25, 2026

FAKAMAAU 19-21; SAAME 17:7-9


Even in the worst vacuums of human leadership, the people of God are never without a King.


Neongo pe ‘oku kaupo’uli fe fe ha pule’anga ‘i he tu’unga ‘a hono taki, ka ko e kakai ‘a e ‘Otua ‘oku ‘ikai li’ekina kinautolu ‘e honau Tu’i.


When I stand up to speak or sit down to write, I feel as if a crowd of people stand up or sit down with me. These are all the teachers, pastors, professors, spiritual mentors, Christian leaders, writers, and friends whom God has used and is still using to form me. I am thankful for each one of them and for the lasting mark they have made on me. They have helped me to understand the gospel and to know what it looks like to teach and preach God's word, how to live a ministry-oriented life, what it means to be a good husband and father, what it looks like to lead others in ministry, and how to continue to grow in God's grace. God has blessed me with people to lead, teach, guide, and correct me. None of these dear people has been ever-present in my life. They have all come and gone, according to God's plan. But there is one who has always been present-leading, teaching, confronting, protecting, and providing. It is my Savior King. All the "kings" he has placed in my life are temporary representatives of Jesus's always faithful and eternal kingship.


The last verse of Judges says, "In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes" (Judg. 21:25). This sad, dark, and disharmonious chorus is repeated throughout Judges. After being set apart as the people of God, after all of God's glorious display on their behalf, after God had raised up deliverer after deliverer, after all his loving protection and provision, and after warning after warning, the children of Israel are now in this sad state. Moral individualism reigns; each person sets himself up as his own moral authority. Although still a nation chosen by God, Israel now functionally ignores his presence and authority. These words should make us weep.


In this way Israel desperately needs a human king, one chosen by God to be his moral representative, not only to lead Israel in government and battle but also to call Israel back to functional worship and service of the one who had liberated them from slavery. He had given them his law, made provision for the forgiveness of sin, provided for them, and defeated their enemies. Israel desperately needs a godly leader who will lead them in a moral reformation.


But when I read this final verse, I think, "But Israel did have a King-the Creator, Sovereign, King of kings." The people of God not only desperately needed King David, a man after God's own heart, but ultimately they needed the perfect King, the Son of David, Jesus. They had the best King ever, yet they resisted him again and again and chose to be content with self-rule. No matter what "kings" are in our lives, may God grant us grace so we will joyfully surrender our wills to the will of the one perfect and eternal King, Jesus.