Tag: Bible

  • When You Don’t Feel Like Reading Your Bible

    When You Don’t Feel Like Reading Your Bible

    As we work through our series on the habits of the Christian life, questions come up that we ask ourselves and one another. After a recent message on Scripture, a young adult asked me a great one: how do I keep up my Bible reading when I don’t feel like it and there isn’t a desire to do it?

    Here is my response.

    First, this is a good question, because every Christian I know has gone through a time when Bible reading is more work than want. You are not alone in feeling little affection toward God’s Word at times.

    Second, a good starting point is to pray. Ask God to stir your affection for his Word. The Psalms are like this, often beginning with a cry to God and ending with praise for his help and hope.

    Third, it’s about quality time with God, not quantity. Quality often leads to quantity, but at the start we can be so concerned with keeping the streak going that we miss the basics of simply hearing from God.

    Fourth, the best Bible reading plan is the one you’re actually doing, not the one you wish you were doing. I’ve spent years failing to finish reading plans, only to feel guilty about it by the end of March. Whether it’s a verse a day or ten chapters a day, what matters is that you’re actually reading.

    Fifth, the evil one loves for us to be more focussed on results than relationship. God’s Word is given to us for relationship. If we focus too much on achievement, we will lose connection with God.

    Sixth, the flesh is weak. In Romans 7, Paul admits that he wants to do what is right and godly, yet finds himself not doing it. Many of us feel exactly that with Scripture. The desire is there, but the flesh is weak.

    Seventh, we don’t always feel God’s presence when we read God’s Word. I would love to say my affections have been stirred every time I read, but reality tells me otherwise. I suspect personality, the work of the Spirit and my own faith are all factors. We read trusting that what we are reading is from God and given for our good, so we listen as attentively as we can.

    Eighth, Bible reading is a skill. Like reading and comprehending other books for school, university, work or leisure, it takes practice. Sometimes it requires brain work to understand what is being said, and sometimes we need help and insight from others. The more we read the Bible, the easier it becomes, and some helps along the way can grow both our desire and our practice.

    Ninth, in my friendships I need to be intentional, and the same is true of my friendship with God. With a friend I might organise a coffee, a meal or a round of golf. We pick a date and make a plan for the time together. With God, I want a regular time and a regular plan for what we do in it. Some days that might be silence and stillness. Other days it might be a whole book of the Bible, or a written prayer or liturgy. There are many ideas here, but the point is intentionality.

    Tenth, don’t lose heart. God knows your desire, your needs, the time you have, the stresses you are under, the way your brain works, and what suits you in each moment and season. He wants to hear from you and speak to you! He wants us to come to him, find our rest and simply be with him, for he loves you and me just as we are.

    What would you add?

  • King Jesus: Faith to Approach

    King Jesus: Faith to Approach

    We could list hundreds of things we place our faith in each week. Everything from the chair we sit on, to the car we drive, to the close friendship we have with another, to our employer. We have faith our chair won’t collapse when we sit on it. We have faith our car will start in the morning. We have faith our friends care about us. We have faith our employer will treat us fairly and keep paying our salary.

    Faith is part of everyday life.

    In Mark 5:21-43 we meet Jairus, a man who expresses his faith in two moments as he approaches Jesus. He makes us asks the question: what does it look like to put our faith in Jesus?

    Following his restoration of a man in chaos, Jesus has crossed back over the Sea of Galilee, seemingly doing a lake tour with his entourage of disciples. Waiting in the crowd is Jairus, a ruler of the synagogue, who approaches Jesus seeking help for his sick daughter who is close to death.

    As a leader in the synagogue, Jairus held an important position in the religious life of his community. He more than likely attained it because he was wealthy, and he would have been some mix between a church secretary and an executive pastor, organising the synagogue so the rabbis could conduct their ministry. Unlike other religious leaders we read about in the gospels, Jairus seems open and trusting of Jesus.

    Who of us wouldn’t do what this father is doing? His young daughter is at death’s door. He may have tried every other medical option to help her recover. He has no doubt heard of Jesus, and given the seriousness of her illness he pleads with him to come and heal her.

    Jairus is a reminder that it takes faith to approach Jesus, to approach God. He comes believing Jesus can do for his daughter what he has done for others: heal her and restore her.

    Is approaching God in this way something you do?

    Every time we come to the Father in prayer, every time we reach out to Jesus and ask for his help, every time we pray for the Spirit to move in our lives, in our circumstances, and in those around us, we are approaching in faith.

    We don’t know the answers to the prayers and requests we bring to God, but in faith we trust they are heard. In faith we trust they will be answered according to the will of God and for his good purposes. Sometimes that is hard to hold onto when the reality of our broken world plays out in front of us, as bodies fail, relationships break down, and circumstances seem to be against us.

    Like Jairus, we can approach God, coming to him in praise or to plead. In fact, Jesus wants us to. His words in Matthew 11:28 to “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” are a great comfort and assurance. Paul tells us that “through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit” (Ephesians 2:18). And John writes in 1 John 5:14-15,

    This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have what we asked of him.

    How great is it that we can approach God in faith!

    The reformer John Calvin called prayer “the chief exercise of faith…just as faith is born of the gospel, so through it our hearts are trained to call upon God’s name” (Institutes 3.XX.1).

    From Jairus, the lesson for us is to have faith to approach God for your needs.


    King Jesus: A Series in Mark’s Gospel
    Part 1: King Jesus: The Beginning of The Good News
    Part 2: King Jesus: The Messenger
    Part 3: King Jesus: The Love of God the Father
    Part 4: King Jesus: The Kingdom of God
    Part 5: King Jesus: The Calling of The Ordinary
    Part 6: King Jesus: Place and Purpose
    Part 7: King Jesus: The Authority Behind The Words
    Part 8: King Jesus: The Power of Jesus
    Part 9: King Jesus: The Leper
    Part 10: King Jesus: The Paralytic
    Part 11: King Jesus: Restoration From Chaos
    Part 12: King Jesus: Faith to Approach

  • King Jesus: The Paralytic

    King Jesus: The Paralytic

    The other day Jesus returned to my hometown. He’d been here before but had gone out to other villages to preach. He came back and was staying at one of his disciples’ homes.

    Everyone was talking about how he was back and might heal more people. We’d heard that he had recently healed a leper and was teaching and preaching again too.

    When I heard he was back I wondered whether he’d heal me. I began to wonder and have hope.

    You see, I couldn’t walk or move at all. I was paralysed. Every day my family and friends would roll me on my side, they would feed me, they would do so much for me. I could tell it was a strain on them. I know they cared for me, but I wanted to be able to do things on my own, to be part of everyday life like them.

    I needed as much help as I could get, and it was pretty hard for some because they thought I might pass my paralysis onto them, or at least make them less holy and unclean.

    Over the years, some of my neighbours have whispered to others in the village about how I must have done something wrong. That I must have sinned against God for this to happen to me. Or if it wasn’t me, it was my parents. I’m not sure that’s true.

    Anyway, four friends of mine picked me up when they heard Jesus was back as well. They picked up my mat, which was sort of like a stretcher, and carried me to where he was staying. But even from far away we could see that the house was packed, it was so crowded. I didn’t know there were this many people in the village! 

    It was so busy that there wasn’t room to get through the front door. There wasn’t an empty seat. There wasn’t even standing room. The crowd was out the front garden and down the driveway. There was no way we could push through, they wouldn’t let me pass anyway.

    So, my friends had this crazy idea. I couldn’t believe it at first. Wait till you hear about it, it really was a crazy idea.

    They looked up at the roof of the house. It was low and flat, with a few beams running across and then the muddy straw plaster that held it all together.

    They thought they might try to lower me through a hole in the roof instead! Can you believe it? 

    They got up on the roof, began taking away some of the roof and plaster, and made an opening.

    I was a bit embarrassed to be honest. Everyone saw what they were doing. Some of the roof caved in and began dropping on people inside the house. It did cause Jesus to stop teaching for a while as well. Plus, there were these really straight-laced religious guys there, they were leaders in the synagogue. I think they were there to check Jesus out too. Talk about embarrassing!

    Finally the opening was big enough to get my mat through and lower me down. I, of course, couldn’t do anything about it. My mates grabbed the mat and me and dropped me right in front of Jesus. It was amazing. I think one of my friends will post it on TikTok this afternoon.

    But Jesus realised we’d taken great steps to get me in front of him. He saw the faith of my friends, and my faith as well. I really believed he could heal me. He’d been healing so many others, I just knew he could.

    But guess what?

    The first thing he said to me was, “Son, your sins are forgiven”.

    What!?

    I was kind of shocked. It took a few moments for me to register what he’d said. That’s not what I came here for!

    I came to be healed and here was this Jesus telling me my sins were forgiven.

    I mean, that’s all well and good, but c’mon. He could’ve told me that before my friends made a hole in the roof!

    What was Jesus going on about? My sins are forgiven…

    Well, I didn’t really know what to say, but as I was looking up at Jesus I could tell in his face that he was frustrated or angry.

    He wasn’t angry at me. He was looking straight at those religious leaders. I think he knew what they were thinking.

    I bet they were thinking how could this man, this human being, equate himself with God by doing what only God could do – forgive sin! We know from scripture that it is only God who can forgive sin, and yet here was Jesus saying this to me!

    He was going to be in trouble.

    Jesus asked them a few questions. He certainly did know what they were thinking. He asked them what might be easier; to say your sins are forgiven or to say get up, take your mat, and walk?

    When Jesus said this, I had a sudden panic that perhaps he couldn’t do it. I know he’d healed heaps of people before, but maybe he couldn’t for me. Maybe I was too far gone. Maybe I was too sick. Maybe I was too sinful. Is that what Jesus was implying?

    Then Jesus said more. He said he wanted the religious leaders to know that the Son of Man (which I found out later is a nickname he gives himself) has the authority on earth to forgive sins! He then told me to get up, take up my mat, and go home.

    I had to take a moment to process it, but then I did what he told me.

    He had a compelling way about him, a special kind of authority.

    And so I did.

    I stood up!

    I then bent over to get my mat (It had been a while since I’d moved so I was a bit creaky in the bones).

    And then I walked out of there!

    Everyone just stood to the side as they watched me walk out the front door!

    It was utterly astounding. No one could believe it. Everyone was amazed and they all praised God for what Jesus had done.

    And I thought my greatest problem was my legs. If I could just stand, if I could just walk, if I could just carry my own belongings.

    When he looked at me and said, “Your sins are forgiven,” I was confused. But now I understand.

    If he had only healed my legs, I would still have carried something heavier with me – guilt, shame, distance from God.

    Jesus went deeper. Deeper than I expected.

    He gave me movement, but greater than that he gave me mercy.

    He gave me strength of the body, but greater than that he forgave me my sin.

    You may know exactly what you want Jesus to fix.

    It might be your health, your situation, your relationships, your lust or greed or anxiety, your grief or your loneliness or your disappointment.

    But what if your deepest need is not what you think it is?

    What if your deepest need is not simply to be healed, but to be forgiven?

    Jesus does not only have the authority to heal what is visible, but he has the authority to forgive that which is hidden.


    King Jesus: A Series in Mark’s Gospel
    Part 1: King Jesus: The Beginning of The Good News
    Part 2: King Jesus: The Messenger
    Part 3: King Jesus: The Love of God the Father
    Part 4: King Jesus: The Kingdom of God
    Part 5: King Jesus: The Calling of The Ordinary
    Part 6: King Jesus: Place and Purpose
    Part 7: King Jesus: The Authority Behind The Words
    Part 8: King Jesus: The Power of Jesus
    Part 9: King Jesus: The Leper
    Part 10: King Jesus: The Paralytic

  • 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

  • More Than Anger

    More Than Anger

    What do you get angry about?

    Is it after hearing the news of the day and all that is going on in our world? Is it while driving and you must let other road users know about it? Is it when your footy team loses or circumstance or other people?

    Jonah has just watched the entire city of Ninevah repent. As a result God relents from the judgements he planned and Jonah is so angry about it.

    You’d think he’d be pleased, wouldn’t you? It’s a successful ministry in my book, a whole city turning away from evil and toward God! Yet, Jonah is angry. Very angry.

    In Jonah 4:1-2, we read:

    But to Jonah this seemed very wrong, and he became angry. He prayed to the LORD, ‘Isn’t this what I said, LORD, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.’

    This book is full of irony, and here is a great example of it again. Jonah wasn’t running away from God the first time because he was worried he would fail, he was running away because of his fear of success! He knew God was merciful, but he did not want Ninevah to receive that mercy.

    Jonah goes and sits outside the city and again God provides for him, this time in the form of a plant. It gives shade to Jonah and he is well pleased. God then provides a worm and the plant withers and Jonah’s ridiculous response is again anger, so much so that he wants to die all over a plant!

    So, God asks him a question to try and get some sense into him. God asks,

    “Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?”

    “It is,” says Jonah. “And I’m so angry I wish I were dead.”

    God’s response to Jonah is gentle but it cuts to the heart of the irony and what’s going on here. Jonah cared about the plant, which he neither planted or looked after, which appeared and then disappeared. Should God not care then for a city of 120,000 people!?

    We aren’t told Jonah’s response. Perhaps he didn’t have an answer. The book ends here and there is no resolution to the question. What we’re left with is that question hanging, which is addressed to us just as much as it is to Jonah.

    Are we genuinely concerned for the people God is concerned for? Or are we more invested in our own comfort, our own shade, than in the mercy God extends to others?

    The anger we hold reveals what we value. Jonah’s anger revealed his heart shaped by nationalistic pride than divine compassion.

    The question for us is whether our hearts look more like God’s or more like Jonah’s.

    I unpack this question further in The Scandal of Grace.

    For Reflection:

    1.     What does your anger tend to reveal about what you truly value? Is there a place where your priorities need to align more closely with God’s?

    2.     Is there a group of people that you find it difficult to want God’s mercy for? What might it look like to bring that before Him?


    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