Photo by...Photo by Hush Naidoo on Unsplash
What does it mean to be a servant of Christ?
Would people say you are a ‘true servant of Christ’ and if they did what would it mean? What might people see in you to cause them to make that assertion? Stop for a moment and think about your answer.
The Lutheran Church of Australia confers a Servant of Christ Award to honour lay people who give outstanding service. The guidelines say a recipient shall be a lay member who has:
· given long and faithful service as a member of the LCA
· rendered this service in a humble and selfless spirit
· sought to bear witness to the gospel in word and conduct.
Maybe you might wonder why you haven’t been nominated.
Paul talks about being a servant of Christ or a slave of Christ on a number of occasions in his letters.
One of those, is in his letter to the Galatians:
I am not trying to please people. I want to please God. Do you think I am trying to please people? If I were doing that, I would not be a servant of Christ. Galatians 1:10
Paul makes it clear we’re to please God or Christ not please people. What does this look like in 2020?
It seems to me we could get very divergent answers to this question depending on our understanding of what is at the heart of the Christian faith.
I’d like to link my answer very directly to the Gospel, to the Good News we find in Jesus, the Christ. Therefore, love will be at the heart of a God-pleasing life of service.
A servant of Christ, a Christian person, will be known by their love - their love for God and their love for people. To be an ’ambassador’ is the ultimate servant role and Paul says the love of Christ compels us to be his ambassadors in the world, sharing his message of peace. (2 Corinthians 5)
God bless you, servant of Christ.!
God is here
by Linda Macqueen
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble (Psalm 46:1).
Read Psalm 46
At this time in the church year, it’s customary to focus on the end of things as we know them. In Sunday’s text, the disciples were shaking in their boots as Jesus predicted cataclysmic events ahead. Today, Psalm 46 holds no punches either, listing catastrophe after catastrophe that lie in wait for us. It’s all rather bleak and unsettling, isn’t it? But facing up to the fragility of life is a necessary reality check. We shouldn’t be surprised when life takes a nasty turn – and neither should we be surprised when we find God right there with us when it does.
‘God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble’. In a world where chaos swirls around us – whether it’s personal challenges, global crises or heartbreak close to home – God remains unshakably present. The earth may give way, mountains may crumble, and waters may roar, yet one truth stands firm: God is with us.
God has longed to be close to his people from the moment Adam and Eve drew their first breath; he sought them even as they hid from him (Genesis 3:9). He went before the Israelites as fire and cloud as they journeyed through the desert (Exodus 13:21,22). Then he lived with them in the temple (2 Chronicles 7:16). Then God came to Earth as a person, Jesus, called Immanuel – ‘God with us’ (Matthew 1:23). And now he is closer still, with his Spirit living in us (1 Corinthians 3:16). That’s as close as he can get!
Take heart: God’s longing to be close to you has never changed. He will not leave you, no matter how fierce the storm you are facing now, or the one looming on the horizon. Rest in the promise that the God of Psalm 46 dwells in you by his Spirit and will be with you to your dying breath. He will never leave you. He is your refuge, now and forever.
Loving Father, though I do not know what the future holds, I do know that you hold the future. Give me today the faith to hold onto your promise that you will never leave me or forsake me, no matter what happens to me or whatever I may lose. Hold me in your arms, my refuge and strength. Amen.
Linda Macqueen retired in September 2025, having served 26 years as editor of The Lutheran and Communications Manager for the LCANZ. She has rapidly adapted to retirement, happily and energetically bringing her long-neglected home and garden back to life. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills with her husband, Mark, and with their household’s lord and master, Nelson the rescued galah.
The dwelling place of God
by Linda Macqueen
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
I will live among the Israelites and will not abandon my people Israel (1 Kings 6:13).
Read 1 Kings 6:1–14
Finally, Solomon gets to build the long-awaited temple, a permanent place in which God will live among his people. It’s a picture of beauty and grandeur. The care and expense lavished on the temple reflect Solomon’s desire to give God the very best – a dwelling fit for the Almighty King.
But in verses 11 to 13, God interrupts the effusive descriptions of the temple with a timely reminder to Solomon: ‘As for this temple you are building, if you follow my decrees, observe my laws and keep all my commands and obey them, I will fulfil through you the promise I gave to David your father.’ It’s as though God is tapping Solomon on the shoulder as he gazes lovingly at the emerging temple: ‘Don’t let this building steal your heart, my son. Don’t forget me, and don’t forget what it is that I really want.’
Then, as now, God was not seeking a magnificent temple so much as he was desiring relationship with his people and hearts turned towards him. A beautiful temple meant nothing if those within it did not seek God’s will or strive to reflect his character.
Centuries later, God would dwell among his people, not in a building, but in the person of Jesus – the Word became flesh (John 1:14). And after Jesus’ resurrection, God did something even more radical: he sent his Holy Spirit to live in us. Our bodies are living, walking, talking temples (1 Corinthians 6:19). Just as God once filled Solomon’s temple with his glory, he now fills our lives with his presence, shaping us to be people whose hearts beat in time with his.
Lord of Lords and King of Kings, as I gaze on the beauty of Solomon’s temple, remind me what you desire most – you don’t want things; you want me. Change me and rearrange me today so that my heart seeks yours, my will aligns with yours, and my words and actions reflect your loving kindness in your world. Amen.
Linda Macqueen retired in September 2025, having served 26 years as editor of The Lutheran and Communications Manager for the LCANZ. She has rapidly adapted to retirement, happily and energetically bringing her long-neglected home and garden back to life. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills with her husband, Mark, and with their household’s lord and master, Nelson the rescued galah.
What love looks like
by Linda Macqueen
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
Please, my lord, give her the living baby! Don’t kill him! (1 Kings 3:26b)
Read 1 Kings 3:16–28
I vividly remember this story in my Sunday school book, which featured a picture of King Solomon poised to cut a sleeping baby in half with a sword. I was horrified by the risk he took: ‘What if the wrong woman won the day, and the baby was cut in two?’
It’s true that Solomon takes a risk, but it is a calculated one – and it shows that the wisdom he’d asked God for is indeed surging through his veins. This wisdom is more than intellectual; it also demonstrates deep discernment of the human heart.
By ordering that the baby be divided between the two women, he exposes the true mother’s love. Her willingness to surrender her claim – the most precious relationship she could have – to save her child’s life shows the self-sacrificing nature of real love. The real mother would rather lose her son to another than see him harmed. The imposter mother, on the other hand, agrees to the division, caring more for justice as she claims, than for the child’s wellbeing.
This story points to the remarkable wisdom Solomon received from God: wisdom to see beyond appearances and recognise the heart’s true motives. But it also reveals something profound about the nature of love. True love is not possessive, nor does it seek its own way at any cost. Genuine love puts the wellbeing of the other first, even when it means great personal loss.
If we need an example of what that sort of love looks like, we need only gaze a little while at the cross.
Heavenly Father, thank you for all you gave up in exchange for my life. Help me to reflect that sort of selfless love today in my interactions with everyone I meet. Help me to put the needs of others before my own, not counting the cost. Amen.
Linda Macqueen retired in September 2025, having served 26 years as editor of The Lutheran and Communications Manager for the LCANZ. She has rapidly adapted to retirement, happily and energetically bringing her long-neglected home and garden back to life. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills with her husband, Mark, and with their household’s lord and master, Nelson the rescued galah.