The Cost Of Closer

Lessons in Devotion from the Nazarite Vow

What can we learn from the Nazirite vow?

Some of you will know this because you’re avid readers of the Bible, but the Bible contains 66 books and was written over about 1,400 years—an incredible time span—by around 40 different authors, across three different continents, in three different languages. It’s an incredible piece of literature. Amen.

At Assemble Church, we privilege the Word of God. It is foundational for us. Our emphasis on the person and work of the Holy Spirit and on the Word of God is fundamental to who we are as a church, as a community of God’s people.

Sometimes, when you’re reading the Bible, it takes a bit of work. How is this speaking into my life? What am I learning? That’s the sort of thing that really makes me tick. I want to know, “What is it saying?” I’m always asking that question.

I made a few commitments to Jesus along the journey—once when I was 7, again at 11, and then at 19. Over the last 25 years, I’ve spent my life learning to listen to the voice of God, because that has always been an emphasis in our family. I remember asking, as a teenager, “If God is real, how is that making a difference in my life? How do I learn to recognize the voice of God?” That’s been central for me.

So every time I pick up the Word of God, my disposition is always, “Lord, what are you saying to me?” Because even though it was written thousands of years ago, over an extended period of time by multiple authors, there is one unified narrative about the love of God and how He reaches people through the revelation of Jesus Christ. It’s powerful, and I love it.

So, are we up for a little bit of teaching? We’ll just see where we go, okay?

What can we learn? Let’s go to the first slide. We’re literally going to go verse by verse—maybe eight or ten verses. The passage is Numbers 6:1–20, but we might just get through the first twelve verses; we’ll see how we go.

Numbers 6 is part of the instructions given while the Israelites are in the wilderness. You’ve got the people of God, who have been separated to God, and now God is in this process of really wanting to teach the Israelites: What does it mean to be the people of God? What does it look like to be that holy community that is set apart for God?

So you go through a number of instructions. Numbers 5 addresses things that make the community impure and unfaithful. Then you get to Numbers 6, and it takes this really positive direction, and you come to the Nazirite vow.

Again, I’m asking, “Okay, Lord, what am I learning?” This vow is about devotion. We’re not living three and a half thousand years ago; we’re not in that context or that time. But there are some really beautiful things we can learn from this vow.

I’m working through this. I’m not “there.” As I’ve read and prayed, I’ve been challenged. I’m not there yet; I’m working this out. These are questions for me as well. So this is nice—we’ll journey together, okay? Hopefully there’ll be something that raises questions in your own mind or enables you to respond.

Opening Our Hearts to God’s Word

Are we open to hear from God this morning?

Let me pray.

Thank you, Jesus. Lord Jesus, we give you all the praise and all the glory. This morning our hearts are open to receive your word in all its fullness and depth—each one of us hearing what we need to hear, the things you are saying to us individually and as a body.

Thank you, Jesus. We thank you for the power of your word. We thank you for the challenge of your word. We thank you for the comfort and the assurance of your word. And we thank you for the gift of your Spirit, who brings revelation to your word.

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord. May we be encouraged this morning.

In Jesus’ name, amen. Amen.

The Nazarite Vow and Spiritual Equality

The Nazarite vow comes from the Hebrew word “Nazir,” which means separation, dedication, consecration. It carries that sense of being set apart. So as we think about this vow, we need to hold those ideas in mind: What are we giving our lives to? How are we set apart?

Numbers 6 begins, “When either a man or a woman makes a special vow, the vow of a Nazirite, to separate themselves to the Lord…” I want to pause and highlight this: “when a man or a woman.” That is unusually inclusive language in the ancient world. This vow is open to everybody. Right at the beginning of Israel’s journey as a people, God bakes in this inclusivity. It is for men and women. This special vow to the Lord is not for a religious elite; it is open to all.

That means people like you and me—all of us—can make a vow of devotion. We can commit ourselves to following the Lord. The Levitical priesthood was restricted by gender and tribe, but the Nazarite vow was not. That was for everyone. That tells us that everybody has the right and the access to dedicate themselves, to commit themselves, to offer a life of devotion to the Lord. It’s not just for the church leader, the minister, or the theologian. It’s for every believer.

And that fits so beautifully with our theology: we are a priesthood of all believers. There is no favoritism. You determine the closeness and the nearness of your relationship with Jesus. That’s our message. We are egalitarian. We believe in equality. We believe we all have the same access to God.

This is unusual in its original context, but it foreshadows the picture we see in the New Testament where the Spirit is poured out on all flesh. Spiritual gifts, leadership, calling—these are for everybody. I love that inclusive nature, and you have to notice it because it is so striking. It’s also deeply aligned with what we believe today.

This special vow that we’re going to unpack involves abstaining from certain things, leaving the hair uncut, avoiding spiritual impurity and contamination, and then the process of restoration. We’ll walk through each of those as we go.

For now, notice that this vow can be taken by a man or a woman. It’s an individual invitation to a life of wholehearted devotion. But it is a special vow. It’s an invitation, not a command. It’s not coercive, not forced. It’s a choice: “I want to dedicate myself. I want to make a commitment to the Lord. I want to be loyal.”

Who is going to respond to that invitation? This special vow is open to everybody, but not everyone will choose it. The ones who do, do so because there is a real desire in their heart. You have to want it. That response to the Lord has to be genuine and wholehearted.

The Vow of Wholehearted Dedication

Some of you have heard of John Wesley? Yeah. John and Charles Wesley. We recognize John as the founder of Methodism, right? Before the birth of the movement, he was an Anglican priest.

In 1738, he was well known for his outward devotion. He was committed to prayer. He was committed to fasting. He was committed to reading Scripture. He was committed. He was part of a group in Oxford that would meet regularly to confess sin and pray together. He was a missionary to Georgia. Outwardly, you’d look at him and think, “What an example.”

But he recognized there was something missing in his own journey. On the way back from his missionary expedition to Georgia, he was on a ship, and there was a storm. Everybody was getting a little bit frightened. Anyone get seasick? Anyone been on a ferry? We go on ferries regularly—they’re awful. It stays with you, doesn’t it?

There’s a storm on their return, and he’s panicking. He’s disturbed. And while he’s on the ship, he notices a group of Christians who gather together. They were Moravians—you may have heard of them. They gather and begin to pray. He looks at this group of Christians and thinks, “There’s something different. There’s something unusual. There’s something different about these people.” They have a calmness in the storm. This leaves such an impression on him: “I’m doing all these things, but there’s something missing.”

Later that year, in 1738, he finds himself at a chapel in Aldersgate Street. He goes there reluctantly, and he’s listening to someone read from the preface to Romans—unpacking the Scriptures, talking about how salvation comes through Christ by faith. And he writes in his journal, on the 24th of May 1738, “As I was listening, my heart was strangely warmed.”

He goes on to explain in his journal how, in that moment, he had an assurance he’d never had before. He had an encounter with the Lord as he listened. It moved him, it changed him, and it ultimately changed the trajectory of his life. He began to respond to God in a very different way. He started to recognize that there is a living and active presence of the Lord that we can know—and that’s what he responded to.

The Altar Response of Commitment

And so we champion encounter, and there’s a reason for that. When we make an altar call, that’s part of our theology, because that’s the moment when you’ve sat in church or you’ve had a week, and you’ve realized something has been said that’s speaking directly to you. Outwardly, we demonstrate that inwardly we have heard something that has spoken to us.

There’s not a week that goes by when I’m in church that the Lord hasn’t spoken to me through Dominic, or through Sam, or through Sally, or through Alex, because I’m always open. I always want to hear what God is saying to me. And it’s the strangest thing. Have you been there? Your week has been full, there have been all sorts of different things going on, and then you’re in church, you’re having a conversation with someone, and you just think, “That’s really spoken to me.” That is the living, active, powerful dynamic of our faith, and it is incredible.

So we don’t want to get overfamiliar when we open the altar. It is part of our theology because we are saying, “Lord, I’m listening. Lord, I am committed. Lord, this is an expression of my devotion; I’m responding to Your word.” It’s powerful, isn’t it?

Like Ann was saying, we’re part of a movement. The Assemblies of God is a Pentecostal movement of over 600 churches and, I think, more than 1,000 ministers. And we’ve all got this same foundation: the altar response is part of our theology. We champion encounter because what we’re saying is, “We are responding to God, and this is an expression of our devotion.” Our hearts are “strangely warmed” when we hear the word of God.

So when this vow is given, it’s an open invitation. The people who are responding are those who are saying, “Lord, I’m responding to You, to this call, this open invitation to draw near to You. Yes, please.” That’s what the men and women who were taking this vow were doing. As you’ll see, it was an outward expression of an inward decision that said, “I am committing my life to You, God.” That’s massive—committing your life to Jesus.

We can say it easily because we’re here, you come in every Sunday when you can—and well done for that—but that is an expression of your commitment to Jesus every time you turn up. Life is busy: whether you’ve got children, whether you’re looking after your parents, whether it’s work—life is busy. So every time you come, I just want to say, “Well done,” because that is an outward expression of an inward commitment to the Lord Jesus Christ.

And that’s why we need each other. I emphasize this. Those of you who’ve heard me share before will know I always say: we are formed in community. There are days when I get to church and I’ll just turn to my pal Nicole and say, “Will you pray for me?” This is the safest place to come.

Okay, I’m digressing—I tend to do that. But it’s a special vow. It’s voluntary, it’s inclusive. Anyone—anyone—can take this vow. It’s powerful. It really is an expression that says, “I have recognized”—and you only get this by revelation—“I have recognized the value and the worth of God.”

Let me tell you something else. That testimony we emphasize as Pentecostals, and as part of your Christian walk—why is that so important? Because every time you share your testimony, you’re giving God the glory for what He’s done in your life. It’s powerful. No one can take that away from you. It’s a special vow, and it recognizes the value and the worth of God. That takes revelation. We need that. Praise God we have His Spirit, and revelation comes by the Spirit of God.

It is to the Lord. That’s the direction of the vow. We’re not doing this for anybody else. We’re doing this because we’ve had that sweet moment where we know what Jesus has done for us, and we remember.

So here are the Israelites with an invitation. Let me just tell you something about where this happens in their journey, chronologically. This is before the exile. This is before they are mixing with foreign nations and exposed to their worship practices. They’re all going to be exposed to that, and you’ll have heard parts of that as you’ve come to church and listened to various Old Testament stories, I’m sure. But they’re hearing about this now: that no matter what happens in life, no matter what time, what season, what context you find yourself in, no matter what religion, philosophy, ideology you’re surrounded by, you can always make this vow. Wow. It almost supersedes the priesthood that was established. It’s quite powerful.

So it is directed to the Lord, because what you’re saying is this: the vow isn’t really defined by what you abstain from or what you do, but by recognizing the One to whom you belong. It is to the Lord: “I belong to the Lord.”

Isolation would say, “I’m withdrawing from life.” Legalism would say, “I want to prove myself righteous.” But devotion says, “I am intentionally making room for the Lord.” That’s why I love that song that Angela sings so beautifully: “Make Room.” Let’s make room for Him. That’s intentionality. You have to be intentional.

If you’re not intentional, and we don’t have each other to give us a little nudge every now and again—“Come on, are you still following Jesus? Where’s your passion gone?”—then complacency, indifference, busyness, the world, they all creep in and can rob us of the thing we need most, which is time with Jesus.

So again, it is a special vow made to the Lord, for everybody. This is a beautiful biblical theology of devotion that we find in the Old Testament that can speak to us today. Are you with me? Because some of you look like you’re falling asleep—but that’s all right. No, we’re not. No, we’re not. Okay, thanks.

The Vow of Relational Devotion

What’s really important for us to grasp – and you’ll hear this from the front of this stage again and again because it’s absolutely true – is that this vow, this time of devotion and dedication, starts with relationship. It begins with a heart that is “strangely warmed,” a heart responding to the fact that the Lord has moved in my life.

This relationship takes precedence over every other relationship. That’s challenging when you get to a few verses later, isn’t it? Who feels challenged? The centre, the foundation of the vow was not abstinence, but relationship.

Devotion is all about responding to the revealed worth of who we recognise and who we see God to be. Have you got that?

I love talking about testimony. I’ve probably shared my story from here before, but that first moment when I received a powerful revelation of the love of God changed me forever. In that moment of revelation, what hit me instantly was purpose: “I’m made to be part of this – the family of God.” What also hit me was mission: “I’ve got a calling.” As I joined this community, I had a real, tangible experience – wave after wave of God’s love.

I came out of a context of a very broken family relationship, with a dad who had been really absent. So this revelation of the love of the Father just overwhelmed me. I was moved, and I was changed. Praise God.

That was 25 years ago, and I’m still as passionate as ever. But I’m challenged about my devotion, and I have to keep revisiting this. Let’s move on. I’m waffling – forgive me.

Consecrating Desire Beyond the Grapevine

Let’s go to the next slide. We’re in verses three to four:

“They shall separate themselves from wine and strong drink. They shall eat nothing that is produced by the grapevine, not even the seeds or the skins.”

That’s quite comprehensive. This isn’t just about abstaining from alcohol. It’s there, it’s part of the list—wine, strong drink, wine vinegar, grape juice, raisins. It includes it all. It’s a very comprehensive list, so we would do a disservice to this passage if we thought it was only about alcohol. No, it’s more than that. A lot more. And that comprehensiveness matters. The detail in the text matters, because it’s making it very clear that as part of this vow you’re going to abstain from the fruit of the grapevine.

Why is that important? What does the grapevine represent? It represents celebration. It represents festivals. It represented divine blessing. So you’re not abstaining from the fruit of the grapevine because grapes are inherently evil. I find that quite interesting. You’re abstaining from something that is generally good and permissible, but you’re relinquishing, surrendering, sacrificing—giving up something—for the sake of an intensified season of devotion.

The grape was good. It was permissible. You could have it. But what you’re choosing is to give up something that is good because you’re after something that is greater.

We are surrounded by so many good things that are not wrong. That’s important to realize: they’re not wrong. But in these verses, this abstaining from the grape, this is about the consecration of our appetites. When we relinquish those things, when we surrender something that is good or permissible, we’re ultimately saying that those things—good as they are—can become a distraction, something that dulls our attentiveness to God.

What is it that gets in the way?

It sounds a little bit like fasting. We give up food because we choose to abstain from something in order to recognize that God is our sustenance. Perhaps we give up sleep because we want to rise early to seek God in the morning. Or we give up parts of recreation. None of that is bad—food isn’t bad, sleep isn’t bad, recreation isn’t bad. But it’s a decision that says, “I’m surrendering this because I want to draw nearer to God. I want to gain greater spiritual attentiveness, because God, You’re worthy.”

It’s a consecration of our appetites.

Governed Desires and Attentiveness to God

As human beings, we have appetites. We have desires. And I’m not saying desire is wrong. We want joy and love and comfort and food. Who’s a foodie? I’m a foodie. I’m not a cook, but I’m a foodie. My husband is an incredible cook. None of those desires are wrong—until they become desires that no longer serve us, that begin to master us, that take the place of the supremacy of God in our lives.

So there is this process in this statement about the grapevine—about giving something up. It creates a sense of boundary, a sense of distance, because we are reordering our desires. As we give up something that is good, it’s because we’re looking for something greater. There’s a reordering of desire so that our first desire is found in our devotion to God. What an invitation. What a challenge.

Only you will know. Only you will know. And this is the beautiful thing: we’re here as a collective, gathered community, but only you will know the things that occupy your heart—your desires that are not serving you, that have more mastery over you than they should. I’m there. I’m journeying through this.

Even this morning, my husband was on night shift, and I was reading through my notes. I said, “Love, we’ve got to talk. I’m being challenged here, here, and here.” And he said, “Yeah, let’s do this.” We were having a conversation about the things we’re going to address in our lives. I’m married to a very disciplined man. Every morning, he’s up and out in the garden with his coffee—every morning like clockwork. So disciplined. And I’m like, “I’m too tired. I’ve got the kids. I’ve got to make their snacks.” I’ve got so many excuses. Queen of excuses. I always have to have the last word. It’s terrible.

But I have my spouse, and we have community. We can actually say to each other, “Listen, as people devoted to God, we need to learn that desires can be governed rather than obeyed.” There is a distinction between having desires and being ruled by them. That’s a challenge.

This is the consecration of appetite—our desires. How many of our desires are dictating what we do? Are they the master, or are they the servant? Is this making sense? It’s challenging. It was challenging for me.

For those taking the Nazirite vow, and for us as we bring it home, it involves bringing our desires under the lordship of Jesus Christ rather than allowing them to dictate our actions. So many things are vying for our attention all the time. They really are. So even if we walk away simply asking, “What am I giving most of my time to?” that’s already a big step.

When I was at Bible college, we had this big discussion on tithing—whether or not it was a command that Jesus was giving and so on. I remember thinking, “If I were to tithe my time, how much time would I need to prioritise to give to God?” I worked it out and thought, “I think it’s about an hour and forty-five minutes a day. I need to make sure I’m giving an hour and forty-five minutes a day.” I was young—perhaps naive, perhaps idealistic—but I thought, “Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. An hour and forty-five minutes a day.”

Listen, when you don’t have kids and you’re not married, that’s possible. But when you do, that’s a big challenge. So I had to adjust that a little bit. If I get ten minutes a day, that’s a win. But when we think about devotion, it’s not a question of, “What am I allowed to do?” It’s the question, “As I think about what I might abstain from, how do I enter into this committed time with the Lord? What is it that currently dulls my attentiveness to God? Where are my appetites and desires ruling me?”

Sometimes we just have to take a moment to think about it. For some of you it might not be obvious; for others, it might be very obvious. I’m terrible for scrolling on my phone before I go to sleep. I don’t know how many times my husband has said to me, “Love, what are you doing? Pick up a book.” And I say, “Yeah, I should pick up a book. But I just saw this on Amazon—I just want to read the review.” I’m normally looking at books. I’m not on social media, which I think is a win, but everybody’s like, “Nah, you’re really like Noah out of the ark. You’re so outdated.”

Whether it’s alcohol, social media, entertainment—whatever it is—we’ve just got to be aware. It will be different for each and every one of us, but there are always things that take our attention away from that focus on the Lord.

So, abstaining from the grapevine—this text, if you’ve ever heard it read this way—does not give us permission to declare that the grapevine is sinful. That’s not what it’s doing. It is giving us permission to surrender good things, permissible things, so that we can focus on greater things—our relationship with Jesus Christ.

Abstinence is a voluntary act that demonstrates that consecration to God takes legitimacy, takes priority, over other good things. That’s what this was about. And I don’t think that’s changed. I think that’s still just as meaningful for us today.

Governing Desire in Devoted Obedience

Devotion is not about the absence of desire. I’m not saying ambition is wrong. I’m not saying progress in your career is wrong. None of that is the problem.

What we’re checking is the ordering of desire. We don’t cease to have appetites, we don’t cease to have desires, but we need to make sure they don’t become the master.

Desire is meant to be a servant to be governed, not a master to be obeyed. Is that okay?

The Visible Sign of Devotion

Okay, let’s move on.

Numbers 6, verse 5: “No razor may be used on their head. They must be holy until the period of their dedication to the Lord is over; they must let their hair grow long.”

For those of you who picture long, wavy, shampoo‑advert hair because of some Bible films you’ve seen—listen, that’s not what their hair looked like. Men and women cut their hair in that culture. It didn’t look like those big‑screen portrayals at all. That’s important, because if you’re thinking, “Well, most men had long hair anyway, so what’s the big deal if they don’t cut it?”—that’s not actually accurate.

The point is this: there was a visible sign for taking this vow. This was a voluntary vow, open to anyone, for a set time of dedication. And there were specific requirements: don’t eat from the grapevine, don’t drink from it, nothing. That’s about the consecration of appetite and the reordering of desire.

Then we come to this bit about hair. This is the consecration of appearance and time. Don’t cut your hair, because the growth of the hair became a visible sign of their dedication. The hair was growing; you could see it. It was a visible sign of that inward dedication, commitment, and devotion to the Lord. People could look and recognise: “There is someone—male or female, man or woman—who is saying, ‘I belong to the Lord. The sign of my consecration is on my head. You can see it.’”

Today, of course, everyone has all sorts of different styles of hair—or no hair at all! But it does pose the question: what is the evidence of our devotion? What is the evidence of our consecration? How are people going to see that in our lives?

We are called to be witnesses. They will see it in your character, in your worship, in your praise, in what you do, and in how you live. That is the evidence. Day by day, as the Nazirite’s hair grew longer, people could see it. And that showed the extent of their devotion. It wasn’t a momentary decision. Every day added more and more evidence of the duration of their commitment to God. As the hair grew longer, it marked a longer period of time given to the Lord.

So while we will always champion those moments we have at the front, or when you’re standing and responding to God—because that is part of who we are as a church: we communicate, we dialogue with Jesus, we listen for His word, He speaks into our lives—those moments, as important as they are, are not the whole story. This vow shows us that devotion is not momentary; it covers a period of time.

The real fruit of that encounter with God happens in the days after. It happens as you process what you’ve heard, as you journey it out, as you walk it out, as you share with one another: “This is what God said to me. This is how God has challenged me. He’s challenged me about my finances. He’s challenged me about my fitness. He’s challenged me about my social media.” You have that moment of encounter—but then there has to be evidence of that internal commitment and devotion.

It’s powerful, isn’t it? It’s a challenge. That’s what the hair was about. Someone could see, as it grew, that this was serious. This was evidence of devotion. Consecration leaves evidence. And we have to ask ourselves: what is the evidence of my consecration, of my devotion? Where can you see it in my life?

The hair marked the passage of time. Devotion isn’t proved in one moment; it is seen in the outworking. The fact that you keep coming back to church—that’s evidence. The fact that you continue to go to The Brew, or to turn up at your life group—even though, ironically, I’m often not at mine because I’m working in Manchester on Wednesdays!—those patterns are evidence too.

You see this repeated in the passage: “all the days, all the days” of this period of the vow. All the days given to the Lord. Devotion has a daily dimension. You will have heard that in many different ways—having your quiet time, taking that 10 or 15 minutes, whatever that looks like.

I just want to remind you this morning: part of our devotion to the Lord is prioritising that consecration of appetite and time. That’s all part of it. And there has to be something visible that can be seen.

Let’s carry on.

Reordered Loyalties in the Family

This is probably the most challenging part, and it is meant to be shocking for the time. You are meant to have this “whoa” kind of response, because it was that shocking. It was troubling.

I think I’ve said it before: when you hear the Word of God, or when something is shared from Scripture, or you read something and you’re like, “What on earth is going on?”—you have to work at it. You don’t just read Scripture and everything falls into place. Sometimes you come across difficult passages, or you’re trying to make an application, and you have to work it out.

That’s where you can talk to Dom, you can talk to your life group leaders, you can talk to me or any of the team, and we will help you. We’ll give you the tools to think, “Okay, what’s really going on here?”

Because in this passage it says that throughout the period of their dedication to the Lord, the Nazirite must not go near a dead body. Okay, that might make sense. But then it says, “Not even for his father or for his mother, for brother or sister, if they die, shall he make himself unclean, because his separation, his consecration, is on his head.”

Wow. Let’s just move on, shall we? Let’s just leave that there.

But we can’t do that, because Jesus says something very similar. So we’ve got to understand what the author—let’s say it’s Moses, as most people think—is really saying. He is deliberately setting one of the highest family and social responsibilities and obligations before the people of Israel and saying, “Listen, your devotion to God must take precedence over this family obligation.”

It is supposed to be a, “Did he really say that? Have I really read that?” kind of moment. You’re meant to have that sort of response. Because again, Jesus says, “Let the dead bury their own dead. You follow me.” And, “If you’re going to follow me, you’ve got to pick up your cross.”

There are a few things going on here that we really need to grasp: the seriousness of this vow, and the seriousness of our commitment to following Jesus. It’s weighty. These verses are about the consecration of loyalty.

Because what he’s really saying—and you know this, because you read the rest of Scripture—is not that family is unimportant. It’s not about dishonouring family, because Scripture teaches otherwise. We read in Exodus, “Honour your father and your mother.” We know that. So if in other parts of Scripture it tells us that family matters and that honouring our parents is important, we then have to ask, “So what is this saying?”

This is about the reordering of your loyalty. And that is a challenge.

Family is a gift. I love my family so much. But my loyalty and my first calling was to Jesus. I remember saying to the Lord after I met Paul, “He’s nice. But I don’t have time for this. We’re just busy getting to know each other.” I’m literally walking along the beach—I met my husband in Turkey—and I’m having this dialogue with Jesus. I’ve always had a very open dialogue with the Lord, because I was taught early on that that’s what it should look like.

So I’m saying, “Lord, I just don’t have time for this relationship, because we are getting to know each other.” And I clearly felt the Lord say, “But this is the man you’re going to marry.” I’m like, “Really? I’m not sure I’ve got time for this.” And he said, “No, this is the man you’re going to marry.” So I actually told Paul that two weeks after I met him. He was like, “Well, do you think we should date first?”

But what was interesting was that I knew my priority: I was following the Lord. That was my priority.

I was at university at the time, studying philosophy in London. And after I’d met Paul in Turkey, I quite clearly heard the Lord say a few things to me. I always feel like the Lord’s talking, but on the plane on the way home, he said to me, “Why don’t you go to Bible college?” I thought, “That’s a great idea. I need to learn the Bible, don’t I?” So I thought, “I’ll finish studying philosophy, and then I’ll go to Bible college.” And I felt like the Lord said, “Why are you waiting? Why don’t you go now?”

I thought, “Well, I’ve only just started studying philosophy.” I remember going home and the pressure I got from my mum: “No, you’re not dropping out. Absolutely not. No, no, no, no.” She said, “This is going to be embarrassing for the family.” She was so worried what the wider family was going to think. “I can’t have a daughter who’s dropped out of university.”

I felt that pressure, and it put a strain on my relationship with my mother. But I felt called to Bible college. That took priority. I loved my mum—she’s passed away now—but the call of God took priority.

Devotion to God Above Family Obligations

When, like Ann said, I teach at the Bible college, I often have moments when I’m talking with the students. I was recently teaching a module called Ministerial Ethics. As we were talking about evangelism and mission and all of the amazing things we get to teach, I said to the class, “Do you remember when you were at children’s church or Sunday school?”

One of the students put up their hand and said, “You’re making an assumption that everybody here has been raised in a Christian family.” And I thought, whoa—you totally scolded me, and you’re absolutely right. I was making that assumption.

That comment opened up a whole series of conversations with students who hadn’t grown up in Christian homes and who had felt a lot of pressure because of it. Some of the stories they shared really broke my heart. A couple of them had faced a lot of verbal and emotional abuse and manipulation: “We’re not going to support you if you go to Bible college.” Hearing that, I realised again how much I was learning in that moment about loyalty—about the consecration of loyalty.

Some of us were blessed to be raised in Christian families. But many of my students don’t have that blessing. And there are so many people in the world in the same situation. Think about the persecuted church. Some of you might support that kind of work—we’ve been supporting it for years. For many believers, it costs them dearly. It can cost them their lives to follow Jesus.

When you hear that, it gives a whole new depth to this idea of consecrated loyalty—putting God first, picking up your cross, and following Him. Devotion. Setting your life apart to follow God. When you see what that really looks like for some people, it’s very powerful.

There are times when covenantal devotion to God must take precedence over even the strongest and most legitimate human obligations. This is not saying that family doesn’t matter—because it does. People feel pressures in all kinds of places. But we have to keep reminding ourselves what comes first, who comes first.

Okay, I’m going to move on really quickly. I’m sorry, I’ve gone over time. I just need a few more minutes, is that okay? Just a few more minutes.

Restoration After Broken Devotion

This really spoke to me in quite a powerful way. I’m just realising all the things I’ve not said, but let me get to this one.

If someone dies suddenly in the Nazirite’s presence, defiling the hair that symbolises their dedication, they must shave their head. If you are accidentally defiled, if there’s some sort of spiritual contamination – you’ve accidentally touched a dead body or been in the presence of that – you’ve got to start again. Really. You’ve got to start again. You’ve got to shave your head and start the vow again. What?

But it shows you something. It shows you how important and serious the commitment of this vow was.

As you read that passage, what’s presented is the way back. So if this vow, this time of dedication, this time you’ve set apart to be committed to the Lord, is broken, listen, there’s a way back. There’s a purification period: you shave your head, you bring sacrificial offerings, you rededicate the period, and you begin the days of consecration again.

This is what I want you to hear: although there’s been failure, that failure is not final. For the Nazirite, there was a way back. If something interrupts your season of dedication and devotion to God, there’s a way back.

Now, all the detail of what they had to do, that’s not what we have to do, because, thank God, all the sacrifices and everything have been fulfilled in Jesus Christ. But what it does tell me is that even here, about 3,400 years ago, it was written that there is a way back. If something interrupts that season, or that life we’ve committed to devotion for God, there is a way back.

If I’ve made a commitment to Jesus, if I’ve said, “Yes, I’m following you, yes, I’m picking up my cross,” but over the years something has interrupted that devotion, there is a way back. And that is what spoke to me. Because while I was able to fast regularly, pray for hours regularly – listen, all that changed when I had a family. There’s been a big fight and battle to try and find that rhythm again.

I just think that is so beautiful: in Christ, no matter how far we might think we have distanced ourselves from God, there is always a way back. There is always a way back in that moment when we respond and say, “Yes, Lord. Yes, Lord. I am dedicating my life to Christ. There has been a distance in my devotion, but thank you, Jesus, that you have always provided a way.”

It’s the grace of God that says to us, when my perfectionism has failed and I feel like I’ve lost it, “No, you haven’t. You can restore that devotion at any time.” And it’s not a sense of “it doesn’t matter.” It does matter. How you spend your time matters. I’m challenged by that again.

Some of you will face incredible pressure in your jobs and your workplaces, or just in the dynamics of family life. There is pressure and stress that we all have to learn to navigate. And if we don’t learn to navigate that well, it robs us of our devotion to the Lord. Are you with me? I find that a challenge.

That’s why I’m sharing this. It’s not because I’ve nailed it at all – please, no – but because this is my journey too.

The Signs and Boundaries of Nazirite Devotion

I’ve just got these last three points to finish with. There’s more that could be said, but let me end here.

Failure is not final. There is always a way back. Grace does not make devotion insignificant; grace makes restored devotion possible. So don’t ever dismiss yourself. We really have to know that. When we’re reaching people for Jesus, when we’re witnessing to them, we will always minister out of what we have already consolidated in our own lives. The revelation you carry, the convictions you hold because you’ve worked them through with God – you minister from that place.

Nothing you have done, and no devotion you may have missed for decades or years or months or days, puts you beyond his reach. We can still come back to the Lord. We can still respond.

The three signs of Nazirite devotion are these. First, no produce of the vine. Devotion governs appetite. As the Nazirite relinquished and surrendered their right to take from the grapevine, they were reordering their desires.

Second, no cutting of the hair. Devotion becomes visible and enduring. Devotion must move beyond intention into embodiment and sustained practice. Let there be evidence of your consecration.

Third, no contact with the dead. Devotion guards holiness. Devotion includes boundaries.

So it’s all about our appetite, our identity, and our environment. I hope you’ve managed to get something from this. Maybe there are questions. Maybe the Lord has spoken to you; maybe it feels like he hasn’t. But I want to challenge you as you start to think about devotion in your own life. What we can learn from that vow is that God is inviting us into a deeper, set-apart life with him.

I’m going to leave it there because our time is gone. Thank you for allowing me to finish. Let me pray.

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord, that you call us to a life of devotion, a life committed to your lordship. We’re so grateful for your grace that enables us to draw near. That’s an invitation for each and every one of us, and we’re so grateful. Thank you, Jesus.

Lord, let us be challenged by your word to recognize whether the things we desire are under your lordship. Are they serving us, or have they become our master? Help us to consecrate our appetite. Thank you, Jesus.

And Lord, let our devotion be visible. Let there be evidence of our commitment to you. Where we need to be challenged in the reordering of our priorities, give us ears to hear and eyes to see. Thank you, Jesus.

And we pray for that consecration of loyalty – that we would recognize the highest obligation, as we follow you, is to give you first place. In a culture that calls and demands so much of our time, with obligations and responsibilities pressing in on us, let us not lose sight of the most important loyalty, which is to you. We surrender the good for the greater. Thank you, Jesus.

Lord, may something of your word settle in each one of our hearts. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord.