Life + Faith

Category: On Life

  • Do You Do A Mid-Year Reflection? 

    Do You Do A Mid-Year Reflection? 

    It’s that time here in Melbourne where the days are cold and fresh and we come to the halfway mark of the year. 

    I’m not sure about you but I long to be somewhere warm about now. The kids have just gone on school holidays, there will be more family time and unstructured time in the home. Friends have disappeared up north to get a dose of sun for the week, and most of the regular life programming has taken a pause. It is usually the case that after our summer break we walk back into life with a pep in our step but we are far removed from January energy. As we mark the midpoint of the year that pep might have gone by the wayside and we are simply trying to put one foot in front of the other. 

    In recent years, with all this in mind, I’ve taken time to intentionally reflect on the first half of the year. I love the book of Proverbs, and don’t dip into it nearly enough, but it has a couple of gems for us in terms of being reflective people. In Proverbs 4:26 we read, 

    “Carefully consider the path for your feet, and all your ways will be established.” 

    And then in Proverbs 14:8 is says, 

    “The sensible person’s wisdom is to consider his way, but the stupidity of fools deceives them.”

    Both these proverbs encourage us to be self-aware and reflective people, teaching us that it is discerning and wise to do so. 

    Becoming this kind of person doesn’t happen naturally either. It is not really in our nature to stop, think, be intentional, and reflective of our lives. More often than not we bumble along trying to keep up with whatever responsibilities we have before us, some simply day by day. And so being intentional in this way is a form of discipline. We discipline ourselves to stop, to think, to be reflective as to what is going on inside and around us. We do so in order to observe what God has been doing in our lives and where he might be leading us. 

    In seeking to do this in my life I work through 10 short questions, giving dot point answers to each of them, as an exercise in reflection. I’ve only just done it again for this year, and have found it really helpful. I share the questions below and pray they will be useful to you as well. 

    All the best, and my prayers are with you, as you consider the path of your feet and the way you have walked this year. May it be an encouragement to you. 

    Mid-Year Reflection Questions:

    1. What are the most important events that have happened to me, or in me, this past 6 months?
    2. What are the greatest breakthroughs in any category of my life this past 6 months (physically, emotionally, relationally, vocationally, spiritually, with other people, etc.)?
    3. What has been the greatest struggle in my life this past 6 months?
    4. What has been the greatest, and deepest, loss this past 6 months?
    5. What was the area that has consumed my thinking, attention, and focus this past 6 months (health, relationship, future, etc.)? 
    6. Where have I felt most vulnerable in my life?
    7. Where have I most experienced the presence of God this past 6 months and why?
    8. In the past six months, where have I experienced the greatest sense of consolation (peace, contentment, shalom, beauty, etc.)?
    9. In the past six months, what area of my life has given me the most desolation (pre-occupation, depression, anxiety, etc.)?             
    10. What is ONE word that would begin to sum up this past 6 months?
  • The Scandal of Grace

    The Scandal of Grace

    Scandals are usually thought of in negative terms like the sports star who is caught out or the celebrity news on the gossip pages. It’s negative, possibly something immoral to the world, and breaks the internet for a day or two. 

    In preaching through the book of Jonah recently I’ve continued to have it pressed home to me just how scandalous the grace of God is. God’s free gift of salvation through Jesus Christ offered to all who receive it is a scandal. Scandalous. It sounds odd to hear as we never name it as such, but it really is. 

    In Jonah 4 we find the prophet outside the city of Nineveh, sitting at a lookout point, watching and hoping that God will bring fire and sulphur down on this city like he did on Sodom and Gomorrah. Jonah has just preached his short, reluctant sermon to the Ninevites, seen an entire city turn from its evil ways, and watched God relent from the judgement they deserved.

    But Jonah is furious. He’s so angry. You’d think he’d be happy, after all, he is a missionary! 

    He says to God in verse 2, 

    “I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.”

    Jonah knows exactly who God is. He knows his character and he has experienced the breadth and depth of that tender mercy of God himself. He was rescued from drowning, delivered from the belly of a fish, and given a second chance when he had run as far as he could in the opposite direction. God showed grace to Jonah, and ironically, when that same grace is extended to Nineveh he cannot bear it. 

    It’s a reaction we might understand ourselves. The Ninevites weren’t just a bunch of foreigners Jonah happened to dislike. These were the Nazis, the al-Qaeda, the ISIS of the ancient world. The Assyrians were vicious, brutal, and violent. They had God’s people in their sights and everyone knew it. Within a generation they would conquer the northern tribes of Israel (2 Kings 17:6). Jonah knew what these people were capable of and he seemed to know what was coming.

    Yet, God showed them grace anyway.

    This is the scandal.

    This event and the story of Jonah asks a question of us, it turns the mirror toward us and asks, “How far does our love and grace really extend?”

    Perhaps as an illustration we might think of that Navy Seal team who was brought together to take out Osama bin Laden all those years ago. Let’s imagine that instead of this team the US President sent a crack evangelist team to convert him. And in so doing they didn’t kill him, but they reached him with the good news of Jesus. Let’s say he repented, placed his faith in Jesus, and became part of God’s family. 

    How are you going to respond to that? 

    If you feel a twinge of discomfort, anger even, while reading that then you know exactly how Jonah felt sitting outside Nineveh.  

    The scandal of grace is that God’s compassion and mercy is open to the most ghastly serial killer, the most despised paedophile, the rapist, the war criminal, the dictator, the murderer. If I’m honest, there’s a part of me that is angry at God right now, just like Jonah. It’s not fair. It doesn’t feel fair to respond to such evil and wrongdoing with grace. It’s outrageous. My human understanding struggles to believe this.

    Alongside this scandal of grace we also need to hold onto something. God is not letting anyone off the hook. He is not being unjust. In fact, in order to even offer this grace, God provided his Son Jesus Christ as the one who absorbed the full force of the justice and judgement that is rightfully deserved by all who have sinned, all who have done evil, all who have broken God’s law and God’s ways (Isaiah 53:5; Romans 5:8). Every murderer and rapist, every liar and adulterer, every person consumed by anger or greed or pride — the judgement they deserve was placed on Jesus where God dealt with evil fully and finally at the cross.

    It is at the cross where the grace is offered and it is at the cross where it remains. This isn’t cheap grace. It’s not grace that ignores wrongdoing. But it is costly, blood-bought grace that has dealt with sin at its epicentre and is now extended by invitation to all people everywhere.

    This is why we call it amazing grace. This is why I’m calling it scandalous grace. 

    God’s final question to Jonah, “Should I not have concern for this great city?”, is a question that exposes the limits we place on grace. It exposes the idols we carry in our hearts. It is that attitude of silently deciding others don’t deserve it. 

    In Luke 15 Jesus tells a story along similar lines. A father opens his arms and offers grace to a son who has wasted everything. Standing outside the celebration, unwilling to go in, is the elder brother who has been faithful and dutiful all his life. And there he stands furious that grace has been shown to someone who in his view simply doesn’t deserve it. The father comes out to him and says: everything I have is yours, but one who was lost has been found. 

    Like the book of Jonah, the parable of the Prodigal Son ends without answer. The scandal of grace toward the Ninevites and the younger brother is the same grace that God gifts us and is ours to receive. His arms are wide open. 

    The mirror has turned toward us, and the question remains, “How far does our love and grace really extend?”

    More Than: A Series in Jonah
    Part 1: More Than A Mission You Can Refuse
    Part 2: More Than Running Away
    Part 3: More Than A Prayer
    Part 4: More Than A Second Chance
    Part 5: More Than Anger
    Related: The Scandal of Grace

  • Book Review: Spurgeon’s Sorrows – Realistic Hope for Those Who Suffer from Depression

    Would it surprise you to learn that one of the greatest preachers in Christian history, the so-called ‘Prince of Preachers’, struggled with depression throughout his life and ministry? 

    Charles Haddon Spurgeon, pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in 19th-century London, preached to thousands weekly, wrote extensively, and continues to shape preachers today. Yet behind the sermons, quotes, and books was a man who often walked through deep fog and valleys of darkness.

    I have known for many years that Spurgeon battled various health concerns, and at least a little depression, but I hadn’t realised how pervasive it actually was. In reading Spurgeon’s Sorrows by Zack Eswine I gained a better picture of the man but also the depths to which his depression and anxiety impacted his life. The other surprising thing about this was how public and how often he spoke about it. This short little volume (just over 100 pages) really opens the reality of mental illness not just for believers but also for pastors. I know it’s not talked about often, if at all, and this book is so helpful and insightful for all saints and sufferers. 

    Our churches are full of people who are going through depression, anxiety, and all ranges of mental illness. We may not see it while interacting with them on a Sunday morning, but they sit there, often silently, battling the melancholy of the mind. Older people carrying the weight of loneliness, middle-aged adults questioning their position in life, young people navigating their identity and uncertain future. They may not look depressed but are sure to be there in the pews. 

    As Christians it is important to talk about this. The Psalms do. So does Job. So does Elijah. So does Paul. And so does Spurgeon. One reason I found this book helpful was the normalising of this conversation without reducing it to Christian cliches or simplistic solutions.

    To give you an idea of the depth of Spurgeon’s struggle he once said, 

    “The mind can descend far lower than the body, for in it there are bottomless pits. The flesh can bear only a certain number of wounds and no more, but the soul can bleed in ten thousand ways, and die over and over again each hour.”

    He knew the darkness that makes it hard to pray, to preach, to feel anything at all. That numbness that comes over us when walking through an unending fog. He writes about this kind of depression as something that comes uninvited and stays longer than is welcome. And yet, in all of this, he saw no contradiction between faith and depression. He writes elsewhere, “Depression of spirit is no index of declining grace”. 

    This is encouraging for us as believers. It’s comforting to hear this from someone who has lived faithfully under the weight of this burden. How often are we prone to think such a thought or such a condition may disqualify us of our belief? But it is not so!

    We walk with Christ in the valleys and on the mountaintops and everywhere in between. 

    Eswine writes with care and warmth. He doesn’t overreach. He lets Spurgeon speak and then offers reflections that feel more like a conversation. 

    In one part of the book Eswine lists various helps that Spurgeon would undertake to help him recover from these periods of flatness, which again was really helpful. But he goes on to talk about how, 

    “The melancholy life thrives when it runs marathons instead of sprints, or when it sprints often, only to rest often. You needn’t try to do “the most things” in “the fastest ways” anymore. To resist this is to have seasons of rest and nature forced upon us by breakdown.”

    This is helpful for all of us who find ourselves running too fast and living on the edge of our limits. Whether it’s burnout, exhaustion, or anxiety, there is the invitation to slow down and let go of that performance mentality. 

    At times Spurgeon himself described what it was like when the overwhelm was upon him.In a sermon called The Christian’s Heaviness and Rejoicing he preached these words:

    “I was lying upon my couch during this last week, and my spirits were sunken so low that I could weep by the hour like a child, and yet I knew not what I wept for…”

    How about that!? How raw. How open. How vulnerable and honest. It’s not the kind of thing we would hear out of a 21st-century preacher would we?

    The book, thankfully, doesn’t offer neat answers, tied up firmly like a shoelace. It doesn’t promise that darkness will lift, but what it does do is point to Christ. It points to Christ to declare that He is the one who truly understands what we may be going through. 

    I would recommend this book to anyone, it’s a must read. It’s five stars. If you’re a pastor it will do your own soul a truckload of good, and also help you walk with those who suffer from mental illness themselves. If you’re someone who experiences depression, or are in it now, then this book gives you a helpful and faithful voice to that which you struggle with. And if you walk with those who do walk the road of mental illness then this book might help you understand it a little more. 

    To close I can’t but leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Spurgeon about suffering and depression. While speaking about God providing all our needs from Philippians 4:19 he preaches,

    “Then comes our need in suffering, for many of us are called to take our turn in the Lord’s prison camp. Here we need patience under pain and hope under depression of spirit. Who is sufficient for furnace-work? Our God will supply us with those choice Graces and consolations which shall strengthen us to glorify His name even in the fires! He will either make the burden lighter, or the back stronger—He will diminish the need, or increase the supply.”

    Amazing. 

    How great that the Lord our God is with us through the troughs of life and will indeed supply us with everything we need. 

  • The Ethics of AI: A Pastoral Reflection

    The Ethics of AI: A Pastoral Reflection

    AI is no longer just a buzzword or a new toy for those tech enthusiasts, is it? It’s here, beginning to expand its tentacles into our lives. Whether it’s at home, at work, our life admin, our church, and even our habits of thought and prayer, AI is making an impact. It’s fast. It’s smart (-ish). And if we’re honest, it can become slightly addictive. 

    Beyond the speed and fascination I’ve found myself asking some of those deeper questions about AI. Not about what it can do, but what it’s doing to me, to us. I’ve moved on from the question about whether it is right or wrong, and beginning to think through the way it forms me and my faith. What kind of person am I being shaped into, and is this coherent with the way of Jesus? 

    This is certainly not a how-to article on AI. Nor is it a listicle full of tips about the best apps or top tips in ethical AI use. Rather, it’s a reflection, a pastoral reflection seeking to bring to the top that question of, “Who am I becoming as I use this tech?”

    The reality is that tools don’t just serve us, they shape us. And AI, more than any other since the creation of the smartphone, is beginning to reach into parts of life where formation may already be fragile. 

    Worship Is Where Ethics Begins

    The starting point for Christian ethics is worship.

    Romans 12 doesn’t begin with behaviour. It begins with a posture drawn from the well of God. It says, 

    “In view of God’s mercy, offer your bodies as living sacrifices…”

    In other words, ethics isn’t just about what we do. It’s about how we live before God and who we are becoming because of God. It’s not just doing the ‘right’ things, it’s about the ‘who’ things. And so perhaps the first questions to ask ourselves is, “Is this helping me to live and worship and trust in God”? 

    This is where the hammer hits the nail for me. 

    AI, in all its cleverness, doesn’t only help me perform tasks. It makes me more efficient. It removes uncomfortable thinking, and sometimes thinking all together! And if I’m not careful it pushes me forward into a way of life that looks like a worldly hustle rather than the unhurried pace of the Spirit of God. 

    I’m not here to cry foul of all of AI, nor even say it is inherently wrong. I use it regularly. But I am saying we need to stop and reflect on how we are using it. I’m saying it’s worth watching closely its impact in not just our lives but in our hearts. If I don’t walk in the mercy of God, and stay firm in that foundation and identity, then I will find myself using these AI tools to keep producing and performing more and more. And I know if I walk that path then I’ll slowly but surely become less present to God, to others, and to myself. 

    The Promise and the Pushback

    A little while ago Kenny Jahng wrote an article called Beyond Binary Morality: How AI Challenges Traditional Christian Ethical Frameworks. It’s certainly worth your time to go and read. Kenny argues that AI reveals the limits of simple “right/wrong” categories. Algorithms, after all, aren’t choosing between good and evil by they’re weighing trade-offs, running probabilities, and calculating complexity.

    And in many ways, I agree with him. Wisdom in our time requires nuance (as it always has, no doubt). Neat moral boxes are beginning to be stretched for us, there is complexity and complication when thinking through Christian ethics of AI. 

    Where I found myself gently pushing back on this article, however, was the idea that AI might be the solution to pastoral overwhelm. As Kenny writes, many pastors feel burdened by tasks that don’t require their spiritual gifts—like creating policy and guidelines, doing administration, or making decisions on future projects and ministries without experience. Some of these aren’t soul-shaping tasks but just the cost of managing and navigating church life in the modern day. 

    AI, he argues, can be a relief valve.

    And he’s right, it can. It has been for me, in some areas of ministry. I’ve used it to help structure content, bring creativity to my thinking about ministry areas, and provide clearer communication to the church. This has meant I’ve had more time to focus on people, to be creative, and I’ve even found more time for prayer. But I do acknowledge there is another side to this. 

    That other side, the shadow side, is the fact that AI doesn’t remove the overwhelm, it can accelerate it. 

    If I don’t deal with what’s happening in my heart, the time I’ve saved won’t go to the priorities of prayer and preaching and other elements of what I call ‘Wordwork’, it’ll go to more output. More tasks. More tweaks. More production. More performance.

    This is why I keep coming back to remember that ethics begins with worship. When my use of AI is grounded in worship of God then the posture I hold is one of submission, surrender, and obedience. When it flows out of a need to produce, to prove myself, or to perform in front of others then it becomes something else. 

    Something that promises rest but quietly feeds the restlessness.

    Babel and the Illusion of Control

    That story from Genesis 11 is one that lives rent free in my mind at the moment. 

    “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves…”

    The Tower of Babel is a story about autonomy. It’s about humans using their creativity not in response to God, but in competition with him.

    And I think it’s an image that speaks into our age of AI. Not because AI is evil, but because it tempts us to think like Babel: I can control more. I can create more. I can become more. 

    But we’re not created in God’s image to view our lives and all that it entails in this way. We’re not given such responsibility. We’re made to receive the mercy and grace of God. We’re made to live in communion with God, not as optimised beings. 

    As we explore AI’s possibilities it’s worth asking ourselves the question, “Are we building a life with God or are we building a life for ourselves? 

    The Way of Jesus

    The more I use AI, the more I feel the invitation to slow down.

    It’s one thing to use a tool. It’s another to let it use you. And I don’t want to become the person who outsources the very parts of life and ministry that form and shape me as a child of God. 

    Sermons aren’t just written, they’re lived. 

    Pastoral care isn’t just organised, it’s personal and relational. 

    Discipleship isn’t just explanation and knowledge, it’s years-long formation under God and his people. 

    The way of Jesus is still slow. It’s relational. It’s incarnational. It requires presence. And if AI helps me serve others better, I’ll use it. But if it pulls me away from the kind of person Jesus is shaping me to be then it might be time to put it down.

    If you’re interested to explore this further you can also listen to our church podcast where we are beginning to explore AI in the church. You can grab the episodes here or on YouTube.

    AI and Ministry
    The Ethics of AI: A Pastoral Reflection
    Related: AI, Ministry, and the Shape of Discipleship

  • Book Review: Slow Productivity by Cal Newport

    Book Review: Slow Productivity by Cal Newport

    Ask your pastor how they are going, and one of the words they’ll probably use is “busy.” Then again, ask anyone in your church that question, and the response is likely the same. We live in a fast-paced, hurried, always-on-the-go world. As has often been the case, this continues to be the pace of ministry too. If I’ve learned one thing recently, hurried ministry isn’t good ministry.

    Whether it’s preparing sermons, meeting with leaders, counselling individuals, or attending another meeting, there’s always more to do. In the middle of all this activity, it can feel impossible to slow down. But perhaps the problem isn’t the amount of work itself, but the way we approach it.

    Cal Newport’s book, Slow Productivity: The Lost Art of Accomplishment Without Burnout, offers a helpful rethink into how we organise our work and, as a consequence, our ministry. Newport writes for a general audience, fitting into the productivity and business non-fiction genres. His approach to life and work, particularly knowledge work, isn’t about squeezing more out of the day. Instead, it’s about changing the relationship we have with work. His philosophy is captured in three short phrases:

    • Do fewer things. 
    • Work at a natural pace. 
    • Obsess over quality.

    These principles seem to be common sense. We can quickly affirm them. Of course, we want to do fewer things, we want to work at a natural pace, and we want to produce good quality work. We don’t want to burnout. As a pastor, I want to live and do ministry in a way that is aligned with God’s purposes, and I can see that these principles are a helpful way of aligning with that. It’s just, in practice this is often not the case and I’d really like it to be. Wouldn’t you?

    Do Fewer Things

    Newport’s first principle is simple: do fewer things, but do them well. He writes:

    “Strive to reduce your obligations to the point where you can easily imagine accomplishing them with time to spare.” (p. 53)

    In ministry, this is easier said than done. The list of demands can feel endless. There’s always more to do, or at least more to dream about. Saying “no” often feels like letting someone down.

    It’s important to name and commit to core priorities. For me, these priorities are preaching and teaching, and leadership development and support. Everything else, whether pastoral care, communication, or administration, flows out of these two areas. They don’t come first. Clarifying these priorities has been helpful, particularly in recent times, as it refines my call and helps me work intentionally.

    Scripture speaks into this idea. Jesus himself talks about what he came to do—to redeem and reach the lost. At one point, he had the opportunity to do more healing and care for those around him, but then he departs because he wants to preach and teach elsewhere (Mark 1:38). Nehemiah is another example. While rebuilding the wall, he faces distractions but tells those trying to pull him away, “I am doing a great work and I cannot come down” (Nehemiah 6:3). Jesus and Nehemiah recognised their priorities and were focused on them. By focusing on the “great work” God has called us to, we can let go of the less essential.

    Work at a Natural Pace

    The second principle is to work at a natural, sustainable pace. Newport writes:

    “Don’t rush your most important work. Allow it instead to unfold along a sustainable timeline.” (p. 116)

    This idea resonates with the biblical rhythm of work and rest. God designed us for cycles of activity and renewal, a truth woven into creation itself. We see this in the establishment of the seventh day, where God rests from all the work he has done (Genesis 2:2-3). He didn’t need to rest, but he does so to enjoy what he has created. Psalm 127:2 reminds us,

    “It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep.”

    The pressure to hurry is constant. Whether in ministry or not, it is always present. Whether it’s the regular emails, the technology in our hands, or the feeling of needing to be across things that can probably wait, we seem to drive ourselves to hurry.

    In recent times, I’ve committed to being unhurried—to walking rather than running. To doing things at a pace that is sustainable over the long haul. This doesn’t mean there won’t be seasons of hurriedness, but it is a decision to take things, as Newport says, at a natural pace.

    This pace doesn’t mean laziness. It means being intentional. For example, I’ve learned to protect my mornings for sermon preparation. This is when my energy level is highest. I’ve set boundaries around how many meetings I have, how long they go for, and how spaced out they might be. Sure, I sometimes break these ‘rules,’ but they are in my mind as I plan and schedule my weeks and months. It allows me to give my best at different times of the week and with different people.

    Part of achieving this more natural pace is accepting that we will never be able to do everything. Life leaves behind numerous unfinished tasks. And that’s OK.

    Obsess Over Quality

    The final principle, “obsess over quality,” is about deep work on what matters most. Newport writes:

    “Obsess over the quality of what you produce, even if this means missing opportunities in the short term.” (p. 173)

    I’m not sure I entirely agree with this. Sometimes it’s better to do things at 85% than spend another 20 hours moving the needle up a few percentage points. This could feed into perfectionism and not being happy to say something is done. However, Newport’s point isn’t about striving for perfection but valuing what matters most and giving our attention to it.

    Scripture reminds us, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for people” (Colossians 3:23). Striving for quality honours God and serves others well. It’s also a call to prioritise—to focus on what is essential. It might mean doing fewer things so that the right amount of attention is given to a particular activity, creative pursuit, or project. It might also mean seeking feedback from others about quality. At the end of the day, we want to serve God and others—our families, colleagues, and friends. Remembering this is helpful.

    Sustainable Ministry

    At its core, Slow Productivity is about more than work; it’s about life. Newport writes:

    “My goal is to offer a more humane and sustainable way to integrate professional efforts into a life well lived.” (p. 41)

    This resonates with all of us, whether in pastoral ministry or not. Life isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. To serve people well in all aspects of life requires a sustainable rhythm. Newport’s principles remind us that doing fewer things, working at a natural pace, and focusing on quality isn’t just practical—it’s biblical wisdom in action. It may even lead us to affirm Paul’s words to Timothy, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). To finish well, we must steward our time, energy, and calling wisely.

    Should You Read This Book?

    If you’re feeling overwhelmed by the demands of ministry or work, Slow Productivity is worth reading. Newport’s insights are practical, thought-provoking, and relevant for anyone seeking to live and serve intentionally. His podcast is also worth checking out if that appeals to you.

    These principles are also helpful for the church. Slow ministry or slow discipleship may not be ideas we think about often. But given the way life and culture push us, even putting the word slow in front of something might help us reflect on why our response to someone is so often, “busy.”

    This book isn’t about doing less for the sake of doing less. It’s about making space for the work that truly matters—work that honours God, serves others, and leads to a life well lived.

    Related reading on rest and ministry
    Book Review: The Unhurried Pastor
    11 Helpful Books on Burnout and Ministry
    Rest in the Rock: A Series in Psalm 62