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Leviticus 26:1—“Ye shall make you no idols nor graven image, neither rear you up a standing image, neither shall ye set up any image of stone in your land, to bow down unto it: for I am the LORD your God.”

Leviticus 26:1 stands like a solemn threshold, opening into the LORD’s covenant promises and warnings. Before He speaks of blessing or announces judgment, the LORD first addresses the matter of worship. What is at stake is not mere obedience to a command, but wholehearted devotion, even total and undivided allegiance, to the living God.

The command is clear and all-encompassing. Idols crafted by human hands, images meticulously shaped, monuments proudly erected, and stones reverently bowed before are all prohibited. God allows no substitutes. Anything created to represent divine power or to receive divine devotion becomes a competitor to God Himself. Idolatry is not just the worship of false gods; it is the misdirection of the heart away from the true God.

The reason for this command is deeply personal and covenantal: “for I am the LORD your God.” God does not appeal first to fear, but to relationship. He is not one god among many; He is the LORD, the self-existent, covenant-keeping God who redeemed His people and claimed them as His own. To bow before idols is, therefore, not only sin, but it is spiritual betrayal.

These words of the LORD invite us to quiet self-examination before Him. While we may not bow before carved stone, modern idols are just as real: success, security, approval, pleasure, even ministry itself. Anything that takes the place of trust, love, and obedience that belongs to God alone becomes an idol.

The LORD summons us back to undivided worship. The living God cannot be reduced or replaced. He alone is worthy of our reverence, our trust, and our obedience, for He alone is our covenant God, the LORD.

Leviticus 19:2—“Speak unto all the congregation of the children of Israel, and say unto them, Ye shall be holy: for I the LORD your God am holy.”

In this verse, God speaks to “all the congregation of the children of Israel,” emphasising that holiness applies to everyone, not just a select spiritual elite or priestly class.  Holiness is not optional, nor is it reserved for a few; it is the calling of the entire covenant people. This command flows directly from God’s own character. 

Holiness is not the means by which Israel becomes God’s people; it is the response of a people who already have the LORD as their God. Holiness is not something Israel is asked to create or define for itself. It flows from the character of the LORD Himself. God’s purity, faithfulness, and righteousness set the pattern for the lives of those He has redeemed. Holiness, therefore, grows out of relationship before it is expressed in behaviour; it arises from belonging to a holy God.

This verse introduces a chapter that applies the concept of holiness to everyday life, including family relationships, honesty, compassion, justice, and love for one's neighbour. In Leviticus, holiness is not about withdrawing from life but about faithfully obeying God’s Word while engaging in it. God's people are called to reflect His character through ordinary acts of obedience just as much as in their sacred worship.

This command also challenges any attempt to separate faith from daily living. To belong to the LORD is to be shaped by Him in every area of life. Yet the call to holiness is not heavy or crushing, for the God who commands holiness also supplies the grace needed to walk in it. Leviticus 19:2 reminds us that holiness is not a means of earning God’s favour, but a grateful response to the God who has already claimed His people as His own.

Genesis 12:1—“Now the LORD had said unto Abram, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will shew thee.”

God calls Abram not just to move to a new place, but to embrace a life of faith in His promise. The command is both clear and demanding. Abram is instructed to leave behind all that was familiar to him, his homeland, his relatives, and even his father’s household, without being provided with a detailed route or specific destination. The focus is not on where Abram is headed, but on the trust he places in God.

This call occurs in a world characterised by dispersion and rebellion following the Tower of Babel. God's redemptive purpose now unfolds not through human effort, but through divine election and promise. Abram is chosen not because of any merit, but solely by God's grace. We also note that faith begins with God's Word. "The LORD had said"—Abram's response follows because God has spoken.

This call confronts our desire for certainty and control over life. Abram is not asked to understand fully before acting, but to entrust himself to the God who speaks. The phrase “unto a land that I will show thee” emphasises that guidance comes after obedience, not before. God reveals the path step by step, teaching His servant to walk by faith rather than by sight.

Genesis 12:1 reminds us that following God often requires difficult separations, but it never leads to meaningless loss. What Abram leaves behind is far outweighed by the promises that God has for him. True faith in obedience does not rely on visible certainty; instead, it rests in the faithfulness of the Lord who calls us.

1 Timothy 1:5—“Now the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned.”

Paul addresses Timothy as a pastor charged with safeguarding the church from those who misuse the law and pursue empty speculation rather than true godliness. In that context, Paul clarifies the true goal—the end—of God’s commandment. God’s instruction is never an end in itself; it is meant to produce a transformed life. The aim is not argument, superiority, or mere correctness, but “charity,” a self-giving love shaped by the gospel.

This love is not the product of natural affection or emotional impulse. Paul carefully traces its source. It flows from “a pure heart,” a heart sanctified by the Spirit and the Word and set apart for God. It is sustained by “a good conscience,” one shaped by truth and guarded from hypocrisy. And it is rooted in “faith unfeigned,” a sincere trust in Christ that is not merely outward or superficial. Where faith is genuine, love inevitably follows.

Obedience divorced from love misrepresents God, for it portrays Him as harsh rather than holy. When law is pursued without love, it hardens the heart into cold legalism. Yet love detached from truth fares no better; it slowly deteriorates into sentimentality and compromise. In God’s wisdom, His commands never separate what He has joined. They unite truth and love, shaping lives that display not only His holiness, but also the gracious beauty of His character.

Let us heed the call of our text to examine not only what we believe, but why we believe and how we live. Sound doctrine must lead to sincere faith, a clear conscience, and visible love. When these are present, God’s commands accomplish their gracious purpose in us.

2 Peter 2:2—“And many shall follow their pernicious ways; by reason of whom the way of truth shall be evil spoken of.”

Peter writes with pastoral urgency, warning the church that false teaching is dangerous not only because it is wrong, but also because it is often popular. “Many shall follow,” he says, the pernicious ways of false teachers. Numbers are never a reliable measure of truth. Error has a disturbing ability to attract crowds, especially when it promises freedom without holiness or blessing without repentance.

The phrase “pernicious ways” points to teachings and lifestyles that quietly corrupt. They do not always appear openly hostile to the Gospel. Often, they borrow Christian language while hollowing out Christian truth. The tragedy is twofold: souls are led astray, and God’s truth is dishonoured. Peter notes that because of such teachers, “the way of truth shall be evil spoken of.” When those who claim Christ live contrary to His Word, the watching world concludes that the Gospel itself is flawed. 

Peter is preparing believers to discern carefully whom they follow and what they tolerate. Doctrinal error does not stay hidden. It inevitably manifests itself in the church’s life and testimony. The world’s perception of Christ is deeply shaped by the lives of those who publicly claim His name. This warning from the apostle calls us to vigilance and integrity. We must guard our doctrine, but also our conduct. Sound teaching adorned by godly lives commends Christ; distorted truth paired with moral compromise dishonours Him.

The church’s concern should not be, “Is this message popular?” but, “Is this the way of truth?” Faithfulness to Christ may never draw “many,” but it will always honour God and proclaim His truth faithfully.

2 Peter 1:21—“For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.”

Peter writes these words to anchor the church’s confidence in the origin and authority of Scripture. In a world already troubled by false teachers (2 Pet. 2), he draws a sharp line between human opinion and divine revelation. Prophecy, which is God’s revealed Word, did not arise from human initiative, creativity, or religious impulse. It was “not…by the will of man.”

This verse confronts a subtle danger in every generation: the tendency to treat Scripture as the product of gifted personalities rather than the voice of God. Peter reminds us that the prophets were not religious innovators but instruments. They did not speak from themselves; they spoke from God.

Yet Peter also preserves the mystery and dignity of God’s servants. He says, “holy men of God spake.” God did not bypass human agency. He sanctified it. The prophets spoke with their own voices, vocabularies, and historical settings, but they were “moved by the Holy Ghost.” The word “moved” pictures a ship carried along by the wind. The sailors are active, but the power driving the vessel is not theirs.

This truth calls us to humility and confidence in the Scriptures. Humility, because no preacher, teacher, or believer speaks with authority apart from God’s Word. Confidence, because the Scriptures we hold are not uncertain reflections of human thought but the reliable revelation of the living God.

If God has spoken by His Spirit, our calling is not to edit or evaluate His Word, but to receive it with reverence, trust it with confidence, and obey it with submission.

A Comforting Exhortation for the Aged Saints of the Church Preached @ Gethsemane Seniors’ Ministry Meeting

Dearly beloved seniors, 

When we can no longer keep pace with the world, we may begin to wonder whether we are still of any value. Yet before God, worth is never measured by speed or relevance. A life lived in faith, prayer, and quiet trust remains deeply precious to Him, and is often most fruitful when it is suffused with the Lord’s gentle, loving presence. There is a quiet, sacred glory in old age when it is lived in close fellowship with God. 

One of the most comforting and deeply assuring thoughts in old age is this: The LORD is my Shepherd. When strength declines, and the path grows quieter, it is a profound peace to know that our care does not rest in our own hands, but in His.

The LORD is Your Shepherd, Even Now

There is hardly a more comforting image than this tender Scriptural depiction of our God: “The LORD is my shepherd”. Not was. Not will be. He is right now our Shepherd. This present-tense confession anchors the ageing believer in unchanging truth. 

The Shepherd of your youth has neither retired nor stepped away from His care for you in your old age. Time has not diminished His watchful care for you. The One who led you through valleys and carried you through storms, does not grow weary with passing years. 

Though age weakened the body and slowed the step, it does not lessen His vigilance over you. He still guides, still provides, still carries, especially when strength fails. In old age, this promise becomes not smaller, but sweeter.

The LORD, Your Shepherd, Knows You Personally

Jesus has said, “I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep” (John 10:14). When Jesus says, “I… know my sheep”, He speaks of a deep, personal knowledge, not a distant, vague awareness of all His people. He knows their names, their weaknesses, their fears, and their needs. This knowing is relational and loving, marked by care, commitment, and presence. 

In old age, the Lord, our Shepherd, knows us. He knows which sheep limps, which sheep is anxious, which sheep lags behind, and which sheep needs to be carried. He knows your history, your regrets, your losses, your secret fears, and your longstanding obedience. You are not one face among many to Christ. You may forget the names of your dear ones. You may forget dates. You may even forget the good words of the Lord. 

But Christ will never forget you, not once. “Can a woman forget her sucking child…? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee” (Isaiah 49:15). Old age does not make you less known—it makes you more tenderly watched. In Isaiah 46:4, the LORD declares, “And even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.”

The LORD, Your Shepherd, Gently Carries the Weak

“He shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom” (Isaiah 40:11). Here, Scripture does not hide the fact that God’s people grow weak, but it assures us that He does not leave them alone in their frailty. Instead, with gentleness of heart, the Shepherd gathers those who cannot walk on their own, carries them close to His heart, and leads with patience those who are tired and burdened. Isn’t it comforting to know that our weakness does not drive Him away but moves His tender heart to care for us?

There comes a season when walking is slower, reading the Word and praying feel harder as strength fails. But this is not a failure of faith; it is a calling to rest more deeply in the Shepherd’s arms. The LORD reminds us, “And even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you” (Isaiah 46:4). As we grow older, God gently leads us away from self-reliance into fuller trust. Once, we longed for independence to do whatever we pleased in our own strength. But in old age, we are gently taught to live more and more by depending on God, trusting His wisdom, His timing, and His sustaining grace. 

Instead of rejuvenating us back to our youthful vigour and strength, He gently teaches us to rejoice in His grace that is sufficient by affirming, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” Thus we are taught to say like Paul, “Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Cor. 12:9). He teaches us through our declining health to rely wholly on the Lord and find our contentment and spiritual strength. Just as Paul wrote, “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong” (2 Cor. 12:10). 

If Christ carried your sins to the cross at the cost of His own life, He will surely carry you through old age with unfailing care. The Saviour who bore your guilt will not abandon you in your bodily weakness. His redeeming love guarantees His sustaining presence all the way.

The LORD, the Shepherd, Never Abandons His Sheep

The LORD has repeatedly assured in the Scriptures, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee” (Hebrews 13:5). In Isaiah 41:10, the LORD says, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God”.

His assurance of His presence helps us face and overcome loneliness, one of the sharpest trials of ageing. As years pass, friends are taken from us, and sometimes even a beloved spouse. Children may move far away, and in some cases, even familiar places change. Yet the Lord remains near, unchanged and faithful, and His abiding presence becomes a deep and steady comfort to the ageing heart.

The LORD, our Shepherd, does not retire from our side. He does not seek to delegate your care. He does not walk away when the night grows long. As David testified, we can assuredly say, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me” (Psalm 23:4).

When He is with us, even death becomes only a shadow. His presence robs our last enemy of its power, for a shadow cannot harm those who stand with Christ. With this confidence, we can ask, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:55).

“Now the God of peace, that brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great shepherd of the sheep” (Hebrews 13:20) has committed us to His unending care. The Lord Jesus said, “And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand” (John 10:28). The Shepherd who walked ahead of us into death and triumphed over the grave will walk with you safely through it.

Conclusion

And when your voice grows weak,
when your steps falter,
and when the final valley comes –
You will hear Him say,
“Fear not. I am here. Follow Me.”
And He will lead you home.

Age may lessen outward strength, but it often deepens inward grace – “though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day” (2 Cor. 4:16). Therefore, continue to cling to the LORD, our Shepherd, through this final season.

Sermon Text: Psalms 123 & 124
Speaker: Pastor Prabhudas Koshy
Date: 1st February 2026

Nehemiah 6:9—“For they all made us afraid, saying, Their hands shall be weakened from the work, that it be not done. Now therefore, O God, strengthen my hands.”

Nehemiah utters those words at a critical moment in the rebuilding of Jerusalem’s walls. The work is nearing completion, and opposition intensifies. Having failed to stop the building of the wall through ridicule, deception, and false accusations, Nehemiah’s enemies now resort to intimidation as their final tactic. Their aim is clear: to instil fear so that “their hands shall be weakened from the work.” If fear succeeds, it would achieve what outward opposition could not, bringing God’s work to a standstill from within.

Fear is often used as a weapon to weaken God’s people and oppose His work. The enemy understands that discouraged hearts lead to weakened hands. God’s work is often hindered not by lack of resources but by inward fear that saps courage and resolve. Nehemiah recognises this danger and does not respond with counter-threats or self-confidence. Instead, he turns immediately to God in prayer: “Now therefore, O God, strengthen my hands.” This brief prayer reflects the profound truth that strength for God’s work must come from God Himself.

Nehemiah’s response offers a model for believers facing opposition, pressure, or weariness. He does not deny the reality of fear, nor does he allow it to govern his actions. He brings it before God. By asking God to “strengthen my hands,” Nehemiah acknowledges that perseverance in God’s work comes only through God’s sustaining grace.

Nehemiah’s prayer is simple, urgent, and faith-filled. He does not seek to escape the strain and struggle of the work of God, but for a divine supply of strength to continue the work.

When opposition aims to unsettle and discourage us in God’s work, withdrawal is not an option; the path forward lies in prayerful dependence on God. He delights to strengthen weary hands and steady trembling hearts, enabling His servants to persevere until His work is finished.

Mark 9:24—“And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”

We have just read one of the most honest cries of faith found in Scripture, spoken in a moment of deep need and distress. The scene unfolds at the foot of the Mount of Transfiguration, where the radiant glory revealed atop is followed by human weakness and a desperate cry for deliverance. The disciples have failed to cast out a demon, the scribes are disputing, and a desperate father stands helpless before Jesus with his child afflicted by an evil spirit. In the midst of confusion and disappointment, Jesus exposes the true issue, not the power of the demon, but the struggle of faith in the human heart.

The father’s cry is both a confession and a prayer: “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.” He admitted that his belief in Jesus’ power was real, yet imperfect and fragile. The man does not deny his belief, nor does he conceal his doubt. He brings both honestly before Christ. True faith is not the absence of struggle, but the act of bringing our struggle to Jesus. The father believes enough to come to Christ, yet he knows his faith is fragile and in need of divine help.

Believers who feel ashamed of wavering faith can be comforted and guided by this story. Jesus does not reject the man for imperfect belief; instead, He responds with compassion and power. The father’s tears reveal humility, dependence, and sincerity, qualities Christ welcomes. This episode teaches us that faith cannot be self-sustained. We need the Lord Himself to uphold and strengthen our faith in times of weakness.

Christ meets us not at the level of perfect faith, but at the point of honest dependence. When faith falters, the right response is not silence or despair, but a humble cry to the Lord who alone can strengthen what is weak and restore confidence in His matchless saving power.