The Garden Church Auckland

What if the wasteland isn’t where God forgot you—but where He’s planting something? Dry seasons have a way of making us question everything. Did we take a wrong turn? Has God forgotten us? Shouldn’t the ground look different by now?

In “Water Where the Wasteland Was,” part of our OAKS series, Tim Cleary explores Isaiah 41:17–20, a promise spoken to people who were thirsty, displaced, and wondering whether God would meet them again. Into their need, God speaks: “I will hear them… I will not forsake them.”
Before there are trees in the wilderness, there is water. Before there is work to do, there is grace to receive. God’s provision isn’t a reward for trying harder; it begins with His presence and His promise.
Through Hagar’s encounter with a well she couldn’t yet see, and Abraham’s decision to dig a well and plant a tree at Beersheba, this message traces a movement from receiving God’s provision to becoming part of His provision for someone else.

Together, we explore:

Why dry ground doesn’t have to mean God has abandoned you.

How God’s grace comes before the work He invites us into.

What it means for a flourishing life to point beyond itself to God’s hand.

Why some of the most meaningful things we plant will be enjoyed by people who come after us.

For us at The Garden, this is more than an image. It’s an invitation to be a people rooted in Christ, growing in the ground where He has placed us, and making room for others to find life. We’re not here simply to survive the dryness. We’re here to dig wells, offer shade, and plant something that outlasts us.

Whether you’re feeling spiritually thirsty, finding the courage to keep growing, or asking what God is calling you to build for the next generation, this message invites you to receive before you strive - and give beyond what you’ll get back.

What if the story of the Prodigal Son isn’t really about the son at all?
In this week’s message from our Jesus vs Sunday School series, Amy takes us back to Luke 15 and looks at the parable in its original context. In Israel, these three parables are known as the Good Shepherd, the Good Woman and the Running Father, because they reveal who God is, not just what we’ve done or lost. Along the way, Amy unpacks the honour and shame culture of the ancient East, and why a father picking up his robes and running to meet his son was so scandalous.
Both brothers were lost: one through rebellion, the other through religion. Amy shares honestly about her own years of striving, straining and performing, and the freedom of resting in a Father who runs after us, meets us with compassion, and invites us to the celebration.
 
Reflect on this week:
1. Which brother do you relate to most right now: the one who wandered, or the one who strove?
2. What would it look like to stop striving and rest in the Father’s love and grace?

What if you’re not as different from the people in John 8 as you think?

In the story of the woman caught in adultery, some people arrive holding stones, certain they know exactly how the story should end. One woman arrives exposed, ashamed, and waiting for a verdict she assumes has already been written.

But then Jesus speaks.

“He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.”

One by one, the stones are dropped.

Tim reminds us in this message from our Jesus vs Sunday School series that this is more than a story about a woman caught in sin. It’s a mirror. Sometimes we’re the ones holding the stone, carrying judgment against someone else. Sometimes we’re the ones standing exposed, carrying the weight of our own failure and shame.

But Jesus offers something heavier.

Grace.

Not because the sin wasn’t real. Not because the stone was never justified. But because grace outweighs judgment, guilt, and condemnation.

Whatever hand you find yourself holding today, Jesus invites you to let it go.

Because grace is heavier. And it’s already here.

What if Jesus turning over the tables wasn’t a loss of control, but a fierce and deliberate act of love?

In Week 3 of Jesus I Know Now, Tim Cleary explores John 2:13–22 - the moment Jesus enters the temple and finds that the Court of the Gentiles, the one place set aside for outsiders to seek God, has been overtaken by a marketplace. People had travelled hungry for an encounter with God, only to find commerce, noise, and barriers where prayer was meant to happen.

Jesus doesn’t simply lose his temper. He takes the time to make a whip and deliberately clears the court. His anger is zeal: a consuming hunger for his Father’s house to become what it was always meant to be. And then the story takes an even greater turn. Jesus doesn’t just cleanse the temple - he declares that he is becoming the true temple, the place where God and humanity meet.

This message is for anyone who has gone looking for God and been handed something smaller instead: a performance, a transaction, a programme, or a religious system that left them hungrier than before. Your hunger isn’t the problem. Jesus takes it seriously enough to fight against whatever stands between you and the real thing.

He’s not too angry to love you - he’s too hungry not to.

“Zeal for Your house has eaten Me up.” - John 2:17

A religious expert asked Jesus where love ends. Jesus answered with a story in which the religious insiders walked past—and the hero was the last person anyone expected.

In this message from Luke 10:25–37, Tim Cleary revisits the parable of the Good Samaritan and its confronting invitation: mercy crosses the road, gets its hands dirty, and bears the cost.

We don’t show mercy to earn God’s love. We show mercy because Christ first crossed the road for us. The question isn’t simply, “Who is my neighbour?” but, “Am I willing to become one?”