Tag: surrender

Called to be a Leader

I wrote this devotional reflection on Acts 2:37-42 before Commitment Sunday on 10 May 2026, verses used in worship at Stockton Corps on the same day.

There are moments when the gospel stops being an idea and becomes a summons. Acts 2:37-42 captures one of those moments. Peter’s words, spoken in the power of the Holy Spirit, pierced the hearts of the crowd. “Brothers, what shall we do?” they asked. It’s the cry of people suddenly aware that God is calling them into a different way of living. Peter’s answer was simple and demanding: “Repent and be baptised.” Leadership in the kingdom of God begins there, not with status, charisma, or ambition, but with surrender.

The world often imagines leaders as strong personalities who command attention and shape events through force of will. Yet the leaders born in Acts 2 emerged from repentance, humility, and openness to the Spirit. The church itself was born not from human planning, but from people responding faithfully to the call of God. Every Christian leader, whether standing in a pulpit, serving tea in a church hall, guiding children, visiting the lonely, or speaking up for justice, begins in exactly the same place: a heart transformed by grace.

Peter himself is proof of this. Only weeks earlier, he had denied Jesus three times. Fear had overwhelmed him. Yet now he stood boldly before thousands, proclaiming the risen Christ. God didn’t wait for Peter to become flawless before calling him to lead. Instead, God shaped Peter through failure, forgiveness, and renewal. That remains true today. Many people hesitate to lead because they feel inadequate, inexperienced, or wounded by past mistakes. But the Spirit who empowered Peter still calls ordinary people into extraordinary service.

Acts 2 also reminds us that leadership is deeply communal. The believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.” Leadership was never meant to be lonely heroism. The early church grew through shared devotion, shared meals, shared worship, and shared responsibility. Christian leadership is less about standing above others and more about walking with them. It means nurturing faith, encouraging hope, and helping people remain rooted in Christ when life becomes uncertain.

There is also a quiet courage in these verses. Around three thousand people were baptised that day. To identify publicly with Jesus in Jerusalem, so soon after his crucifixion, required bravery. Leadership often begins with the willingness to stand openly for what is right and true, even when it’s costly. In every generation, God calls people who’ll live differently; people who refuse hatred, who resist injustice, who choose compassion over cruelty, and who hold onto hope when despair feels easier.

The beautiful thing about this passage is that the call to leadership isn’t reserved for a select few. The promise Peter speaks of is “for you and your children and for all who are far off”. The Spirit is poured out widely. Leadership in the church isn’t about building personal influence; it’s about becoming available to God. Sometimes that leadership will be public, sometimes hidden and unseen. Yet both matter deeply in the kingdom of God.

To be called as a leader is, ultimately, to be called into faithful discipleship. It’s to listen for the Spirit, to remain devoted to prayer and community, and to point beyond ourselves to Jesus. The church still needs leaders shaped by Acts 2 leaders who are humble, Spirit-filled, courageous, compassionate, and deeply rooted in grace.

Bible 40 Themes 04 Faith

Faith is one of the Bible’s most quietly powerful gifts. It isn’t loud, or showy, or always certain of the next step. More often, faith is the steady courage to keep walking when the road ahead is hidden by mist. Scripture doesn’t present faith as a flawless emotional confidence, but as a deep trust rooted in God’s character and promises.

Hebrews offers a simple and beautiful definition: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). That verse carries such tenderness. Faith isn’t pretending we have all the answers. It’s holding on to hope when answers haven’t arrived yet. It’s trusting that God is still present, still working, even when our eyes cannot trace his hand.

The stories of faith throughout the Bible are full of ordinary people stepping forward with trembling hearts. Abraham left home without knowing where he was going. Moses stood before Pharaoh with nothing but God’s promise. Ruth walked into an uncertain future guided only by loyalty and love. None of them had a clear map, but they had God, and that was enough to take the next step.

Faith, then, is less about certainty and more about relationship. It grows not through control, but through surrender. It deepens when we pray honestly, when we wait patiently, when we keep choosing trust over fear. Faith isn’t a demand to feel strong, but an invitation to lean on the strength of God.

Sometimes faith feels solid like a mountain. Sometimes it feels fragile like a candle flame. Yet even the smallest faith, placed in the hands of a faithful God, can shine through darkness. Faith isn’t measured by how steady we feel, but by who we are holding on to.

If you’re carrying questions today, you’re not alone. Faith doesn’t erase doubt, but it invites us to bring our doubt into God’s presence. The invitation of Hebrews is simple: keep hoping, keep trusting, keep stepping forward, because God is trustworthy, even when the way is unseen.

And perhaps this is the quiet miracle of faith, that step by step, we discover we were never walking alone.

This is one of a series of posts outlining 40 themes of the Bible. Previous Next

Advent Love Takes Flesh

The Fourth Sunday of Advent draws us close to the mystery at the heart of it all, love. Not a vague sentiment, nor a fleeting warmth, but the fierce and tender love of God made flesh. The angel’s words to Mary ring out: The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. In that overshadowing, love takes on a heartbeat, and the Word begins to dwell among us. Advent love is daring, it breaks into the ordinary with extraordinary promise.

Mary’s response, her quiet yet courageous “I am the Lord’s servant,” shows us what love looks like when it’s received in faith. Love is never simply a feeling; it’s a surrender, a willingness to be caught up in God’s purposes even when they turn our world upside down. As Elizabeth exclaimed, “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfil his promises to her!” Advent love asks us, too, whether we dare to trust that God is at work in us, however unlikely or unready we may feel.

John’s Gospel tells us, The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, full of grace and truth. This is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us first and chose to enter our world, fragile and flawed, to redeem it from within.

So the fourth candle is lit, the candle of love, shining beside the flames of hope, peace, and joy. Together they burn as a testimony that the night is nearly over, the dawn is near. Love holds them all together, for it’s love that sent Christ, love that sustains us in waiting, and love that will one day bring all things to completion.

As Christmas draws close, may our hearts be opened wide to receive this love that comes down, not in power and splendour, but in vulnerability and grace. And may we, like Mary, bear that love into the world, so that others might glimpse in us the light of Christ who is coming.