Life + Faith

Hey, I’m Jon.
And this is where I write about life and faith, no niche included. Just an honest attempt to be faithful and fruitful for Jesus. If that’s something you want more of, subscribe.

  • My Top Posts of 2025

    Another year, another blog post recap.

    As the year wraps up, it’s time to look back and celebrate the posts that have found their way into your screens, bookmarks, and the occasional late-night doom-scroll. This year felt a little more settled than last, albeit not exactly a literary avalanche, but apparently more widely read.

    Some older posts keep refusing to retire, a few newer ones found an audience, and a small but growing number of you even clicked the little heart icon; which I’m choosing to interpret as deep emotional commitment.

    Here are the stats, and similarly to my Top Books for 2025 post, I have a summary of the posts that received the most views this year.

    Enjoy.

    THE STATS (2025):

    • Total Views: 12,088 (Apparently you’re not sick of me yet)
    • Visitors: 9,104 (Nine thousand real humans, wild!)
    • Comments: 18 (This is what growth looks like, right?)
    • Likes: 118 (Triple digits. I’ve peaked.)
    • Posts Published: 22 (Hmmm.)

    THE TOP POSTS:

    1. God’s Love Expressed: Through the Cross

    (Yes, that one. Again.)

    This post continues its stubborn reign at the top, despite being written years ago. It reflects on 1 John 4 and the way God’s love is most clearly revealed through the cross of Christ. At its heart is the conviction that God’s love doesn’t ignore our sin but deals with it fully, decisively, and graciously in Jesus.

    If people keep reading this post, I’ll keep thanking God for the truth it points to.

    2. AI, Ministry, and the Shape of Discipleship

    One of this year’s newer posts. This piece explores how AI tools intersect with discipleship, pastoral ministry, formation, and wisdom. Rather than hype or fear, the post asks slower questions about what it means to form people in Christ when technology increasingly shapes how we think, write, and relate.

    The response to this post confirmed that many of us are trying to think faithfully, not just efficiently, about the future.

    3. Mission Possible

    This post reflects on Christian mission not as an optional extra or specialist calling, but as the natural overflow of a life shaped by Jesus. It pushes back against both guilt-driven activism and comfortable disengagement, inviting readers to see mission as grounded in God’s initiative rather than our competence.

    4. Martin Luther on Complete Forgiveness in Christ

    Another perennial favourite. Drawing from Luther’s Commentary on Galatians, this post explores the freedom that comes from knowing forgiveness is complete, final, and grounded entirely in Christ’s work; not our performance.

    Luther’s clarity, warmth, and theological stubbornness continue to do what they’ve always done: comfort weary consciences and unsettle self-reliance.

    5. The Trial of Jesus: A Fulfilment of Prophecy

    This Easter devotional reflection on Mark 14:53–65 looks at Jesus’ trial as both a moment of deep injustice and a profound fulfilment of God’s redemptive purposes. Jesus’ silence, His declaration before the council, and His willingness to suffer reveal a King who reigns through faithfulness rather than force.

    So there you have it: the most-read posts of 2025. Some new, some old, all pointing (I hope) in the same direction.

    This is something I’ve done in previous years, which you can find here: Top posts for 2024, 2022, 2021, 2020, 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016. I also have a collection of writing published elsewhere on the inter-webs, which you can read here.

    If you’ve got a favourite post, a lingering question, or a topic you’d love me to tackle in 2026, feel free to leave a comment or send a message.

  • Christmas 2025: Jesus

    Jesus – Luke 2:41–52

    We have citrus trees along the side of our house. Four years ago we planted them. They are still in the juvenile stage, growing taller and taller each season. It’s a slow process and will take another few years before they produce any fruit.

    Before Jesus preaches and begins His ministry of healing, teaching, miracles, and calling followers, we read of Him doing something very ordinary – learning. Here we get that picture of a student, asking questions, listening, and sitting among teachers. Even Jesus, the Son of God, takes part in that slow work of growth before going about producing anything.

    It’s quite a simple story. Jesus doesn’t perform any wonders or reveal Himself to others. What He is doing is growing in wisdom, stature, and favour with God and the people (v52). This is a time of formation for Jesus. And if Jesus required it, then perhaps we too might need to do the same.

    Growth doesn’t happen overnight, it’s often gradual, unnoticed, and uncomfortable. Yet God uses these seasons to shape us, to humble us, and provide us with wisdom and patience for the road ahead. Luke’s inclusion of this story reminds us that we are being formed through those unseen and ordinary years.

    It’s like learning a new musical instrument, having to practice and practice and practice when no one is looking. It’s like moving through adolescence, discovering who we are, what our purpose is, and where we belong. As someone once said, growth is like outgrowing old shoes; it’s awkward, slightly painful, but necessary.

    We often want instant results, instant transformation, but discipleship takes time.

    Ask God to highlight one area where He wants you to grow this season. Is it patience, courage, compassion, humility, wisdom, rest? Something else perhaps? Take one small step this week in that direction.

    Where might God be inviting you to lean into slow, steady growth this Christmas?

    This devotional series runs alongside our Songs for the Saviour sermon series this Christmas. It explores the four ‘songs’ of Luke’s Gospel, which in their historical Latin form are known as the Magnificat, Benedictus, Gloria in Excelsis, and Nunc Dimittis.

  • Christmas 2025: Simeon

    Simeon – Luke 2:21–38

    Waiting is quite painful, isn’t it? It’s painful because we want answers now. We want things to happen right away. We want to know or see things happen in our own timing, not in the patient and enduring time of the Lord.

    Simeon’s life was shaped around a promise that was slow to arrive. To be fair, he’s not passive about it, he is attentive to what God might be doing. He waits with hope.

    We might know this kind of experience ourselves. Waiting stretches us, it teaches us, and in the course of waiting that which we genuinely hope for is often revealed.

    When Simeon finally sees Jesus, he is full of thankfulness and gratitude. He isn’t relieved, he doesn’t make a big scene, and there is certainly no big announcement by this old gentleman. Rather, he is worshipful. He praises and blesses God for the kindness in allowing him to see the Christ child (v29-32). This song, the Nunc Dimittis, affirms God’s timing, knowing it is never late and never rushed. Simeon shows us the kind of faith that doesn’t demand answers from God but trusts the God who knows them.

    This short story of Simeon is a great reminder that God is at work even in the seasons that feel awfully slow.

    He’s like the grandparent who has prayed for their family for decades, faithful in giving over to God what is His and trusting that in His good timing He will fulfil His word.  

    Waiting is part of our Christian life, our Christian experience. Can you think of one area in your life where you are waiting? Lift it up to God each day this week.

    How might God be shaping you through the waiting rather than simply delivering what you long for?

    This devotional series runs alongside our Songs for the Saviour sermon series this Christmas. It explores the four ‘songs’ of Luke’s Gospel, which in their historical Latin form are known as the Magnificat, Benedictus, Gloria in Excelsis, and Nunc Dimittis.

  • The Tender Mercy of God

    In the month leading up to Christmas Day I think I have been present and shared something of the Christmas story at six ‘extra’ end of year events. We all know it’s a busy time, with plenty of different activities in church, school, and other community groups we’re involved in. For me, this has probably been my most active Christmas in some time, possibly ever. And as you can imagine, I’m wanting to share the great news of Jesus’ birth, but also do so in a way that isn’t stale. I want it to be attractive and meaningful for the hearers, and also for me personally as the speaker. At some of these events I can share the same message with a tweak or two, but by the time you’ve done that 2-3 times I feel within myself that it’s time to change it up. 

    That’s why, at our Community Kitchen Christmas meal the other evening, I decided to share for five minutes on the phrase, “the tender mercy of God”, which comes from Luke 1:78.

    It’s such a great phrase. It’s beautiful really. And it is part of the Christmas story, tucked away in Zechariah’s song. 

    After months of silence, and the birth of his son John, Zechariah breaks into praise. His words look back and acknowledge God’s faithfulness (Luke 1:68-75), and then turn toward the future and the coming of Jesus, which lead him to say those words, “the tender mercy of God”. 

    Tender mercy. 

    This is not forceful power. 

    This is not harsh correction. 

    This is not distant authority. 

    This is tender mercy. 

    Zechariah’s song helps us understand what kind of God we are dealing with, and what kind of salvation He is bringing into the world through Jesus. 

    John, Zechariah’s son, was not to be the central character of the story. He would be the one who prepared the way. Like the opening act at a concert who warms up the crowd and gets them ready for the main artist or band, his role was important but not ultimate. He would point beyond himself to Jesus. 

    And what was he preparing people for? 

    Not a political revolution. 

    Not economic rescue.

    Not national independence. 

    John was preparing people for salvation through the forgiveness of sins. A salvation that flows from God’s tender mercy. 

    If we’re honest, we often look outward for our own salvation. We want to be saved from difficult circumstances, whether it’s pressure at work, financial stress, health challenges, and broken relationships. And God cares about all those things. 

    But Christmas reminds us that God’s deeper work for us is inward. 

    God comes to deal with the things we carry beneath the surface. Guilt. Shame. Regret. Fear. The quiet sense that things aren’t right inside of us. 

    And He doesn’t come aggressively or forcefully, He comes gently and tenderly. 

    God doesn’t approach us with a raised voice, or come to shame and humiliate. He isn’t impatient or hurried or fed up and disappointed. 

    God meets us in our brokenness with closeness. 

    He draws near. 

    Perhaps you’ve had a similar experience to me when on Christmas Day you celebrate a meal with all the special cutlery and utensils. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Out comes the special plates, the special bowls, the fine glassware, and the more expensive cutlery. There are decorations that only come out once a year, perhaps there are some precious ornaments displayed around the room too. And within this celebration there are kids around, excited and happy and joyful. 

    Now, imagine that one of them accidentally knocks a glass off the table. It shatters on the floor and its contents stain the carpet. The room is suddenly quiet. The child freezes. They’re waiting. 

    What are they waiting for? Most likely a parent or family member to get cross out of the stress, pressure, and frustration that a Christmas Day meal can bring. 

    But tender mercy is not snapping in frustration. 

    Tender mercy is not shaming or scolding. 

    Tender mercy is kneeling down, wrapping them in a hug, and saying, “It’s OK. No worries. I’ll sort it out.”

    This, Zechariah tells us, is what God is like. 

    Because of God’s tender mercy, Jesus comes into the world. 

    Because of God’s tender mercy, forgiveness is possible.

    Because of God’s tender mercy, light shines into dark places.

    And because of God’s tender mercy, God guides people into a path of peace.

    It isn’t about having life neatly organised. It isn’t about pretending things are fine. It isn’t about performing spiritual competence. It is about a God who draws near, who sees us as we are, and who chooses compassion over condemnation.

    Wherever this season finds you; tired, hopeful, grieving, uncertain, or desperately trying to hold things together, the message of Christmas remains the same.

    God’s mercy is tender.

    And it is for you.

  • Christmas 2025: The Shepherds

    The Shepherds – Luke 2:1–20

    Ah, the shepherds. Those who go unnoticed, seem unimportant, and are largely invisible. Their work, of course, is constant. It’s dirty work. It doesn’t win them any points on the social scale. No one would be expecting God to speak through these guys, but that’s exactly what happens.

    This announcement to the shepherds by the angels is dramatic. God chooses the last group anyone would think to invite, shepherds working the overnight shift. And in such a moment the shepherds sing Gloria in Excelsis, not to kings, or those in power, or the influencers of the day, but for the people who never made it to the temple. They sing for those who are overlooked, responding to this announcement of good news with great joy and wonder there in v14, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased”.

    Isn’t this a reminder that the gospel is meant to be received with fresh eyes and a ready heart? Doesn’t this give us a quiet correction to our assumptions about who God uses and who He seeks to draw close?

    It’s like the late-night cleaner in the large office building in the city. It’s like the nurse on night shift who cares for patients while the rest of us are asleep. It’s like that parent that wakes early, while its still dark, to prepare the school lunches. These are people we may walk past without noticing. These are the people who persevere with resilience and quiet strength. These are the people who, if announced in our day, would hear this good news first.

    Make a point this week to notice someone you usually overlook. Might it be the barista, the cleaner of the toilets at your local shopping centre, the crossing supervisor at school, or the bus driver? Offer a word of thanks, gratitude, or encouragement.

    Who around you might be waiting for the simple reminder that God sees them?

    This devotional series runs alongside our Songs for the Saviour sermon series this Christmas. It explores the four ‘songs’ of Luke’s Gospel, which in their historical Latin form are known as the Magnificat, Benedictus, Gloria in Excelsis, and Nunc Dimittis.