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.
No matter how long you’ve been a follower of Jesus there seems to always be a way for doubt to sneak in. Here in the story of Zechariah we read about a sliver of doubt that that brings change. Zechariah is not a faithless character, he’s a man who has spent years praying, serving, waiting, and longing for God. Perhaps life had taken a toll by this point, perhaps hope was wearing a little thin for him. We don’t know, but what we do know is that when the angel appears with this unbelievable news, he doesn’t fully trust it. There is a quiet doubt that sits there.
In response to this doubt God does not dismiss him. He doesn’t replace him with someone else full of faith and life. No, His response is to put him into silence. Nine months of silence. Unable to speak. Can you imagine?
This isn’t punishment though; it is more about formation. It gives Zechariah the chance to reset. It gives him a chance to listen to God again. When Zechariah’s voice returns it isn’t a soft, fragile, or timid voice. It is now strong, full of praise from the resultant faithfulness he has seen in God. His song, in v68-79, is clear, full of conviction and hope, climaxing in that beautiful phrase — the tender mercy of God. He has a new vision of God that brings worship and praise.
This is an encouragement to anyone who has a spiritual flat tyre. This is a message for those of us who continually wake spiritually tired even though we’ve been getting enough sleep. It’s like the car that goes and goes but eventually runs out of petrol and can’t go anymore. The key is to fill up, to reset, to rest in God and allow Him to speak into our well-worn heart.
Take five minutes of silence today. No words. No lists. No phone. No expectations. Just be still in God’s presence. Allow Him to speak to you. Just be in Him.
Where might God be using frustration, fatigue, or doubt to draw you into greater trust?
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 often arrives with equal parts excitement and pressure. We’re surrounded by familiar songs, familiar expectations, and familiar busyness, yet underneath it all sits an invitation from God.
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.
During our services we will explore each passage more fully, but in these devotionals, I hope we will see how our story intersects with each of the characters of the narrative. They remind us that God doesn’t wait for perfect conditions or give much thought to impressive resumes or extraordinary strength and power. Instead, God works through ordinary, unvarnished, and fragile human lives.
These devotionals are an invitation for us to pace ourselves this Christmas and remind us that the same grace that shaped those in the Christmas story is the same grace that continues to shape us.
Mary – Luke 1:39–55
When we least expect it, we often find God at work. Mary is a very ordinary girl, living in a very ordinary town, one that’s never made the travel bucket list of anyone, ever. But God arrives at her doorstep, with a calling that would change the rest of history. She doesn’t feel ready, she hasn’t been rehearsing for this moment, yet her response is remarkable. A response that shows courage and trust in the confusion.
Mary’s song is a song from the heart, with evident joy and wonder from what she has just been told. She praises God’s power, mercy, and faithfulness, stepping into a future that is unknown and will make life complicated for her. Any plans Mary had are now disrupted, with more questions than answers at this point.
Mary’s faith is an honest faith though. There is uncertainty, but she is still able to say in v38, “May your word to me be fulfilled.” What faith! And what an approach to take as disciples of God in Christ. Mary surrenders not knowing how everything will turn out, but she is trusting in the One who does.
Mary’s place in Scripture reminds us that God doesn’t outsource His plans to the impressive. He gives His kingdom work to people who feel small and unimposing. People like her. People like us.
Mary’s experience is certainly unique, but she is like the new mother who realises they are now responsible for far more than they imagined. She’s like the graduate teacher who is given a class she’s not sure she can handle. It’s that moment when responsibility arrives and confidence needs to catch up.
It is in this space where God often does His finest shaping.
This week, begin each day using Mary’s words as a basis for prayer, “Lord, let your word shape my life today”. This isn’t a task to get done, it’s a way of opening our day to God’s leading.
Where might God be inviting you to offer Him a hesitant but faithful ‘Yes’ this Christmas?
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.
I’ve been toying around with poetry lately, both as a fun little exercise and something to learn and improve my writing.
I wrote the following after reflecting on Matthew 14:23, where Jesus, even after all the ministry and miracles, withdraws alone to pray. I suspect many of us live in the tension of hurry and stillness, this is a kind of prayer from that place. An invitation to slow down and respond out of the rest in his presence.
Pull Up A Pew
Driven, my heart beats fast and faster Hurried, from one to the next The urgent crowds out my time and place To sit, be still, and seek your face.
The mind, it races on and on Thinking, what I ought to do So much, so many, so few pursue But here you call, pull up a pew.
You stopped and went with task after task Up the mountain, where in the Father you bask Teach me your ways, for I forget Instead I find I just project.
I want to stop and pray my Lord To find the rest you promise so To leave the work in your hands As you lead me to the silent lands.
After dismissing the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. Well into the night, he was there alone. – Matthew 14:23
