Christianity does not ultimately rest on the assertion that God delivered a perfectly dictated text whose divine origin can be demonstrated by claims of flawless transmission.
I pray my children see God’s faithfulness not in the riches of this world, but in the riches of grace through Christ Jesus.
Calling oneself a “Bible-believing Christian” fails to account for the fact that every belief system, knowingly or unknowingly, arises out of a particular history.

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A father dies and leaves an inheritance to his two children, Jane and Grace. The family member handling the estate gives them each a letter containing the cheques for their inheritance.
In the tiny Bible-belt town where I grew up, tragedy brought people together.
Life is certainly unfair. But in Christ, at least in part, we rejoice at such a notion. Grace, that great descriptor of God’s devotion, is a word that only finds its purpose, only exists at all, because it exists as a response to guilt.
I have a confession: I don’t believe the Bible is true because it says it’s true.
The following is an excerpt from Martin Luther’s Commentary on Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians (1535), translated by Haroldo Camacho (1517 Publishing, 2018).
There are a few occasions in the Bible where the curtain lifts, and we get to peer into the inner workings of the Divine Court.
From the untouchable living on the streets of India to the millionaire in Manhattan; from the farmer in Germany to the escort in Vegas; from the missionary in Argentina to the bartender in Ireland—they are all in the love zone of the Lord. Every. Single. One.
As a woman who has suffered years of abuse, there have been times in my new life when I have found myself living out Psalm 6:6.
Jesus, Who is truly God, became a regular Joe (or Joshua as the case may be) for us.
I hate driving. I am more of a “pew-pew” guy than a “vroom-vroom” guy. I battle my own heart every day in Atlanta traffic.
Whenever I read the Genesis account of Abraham, I’m more impressed that he’s often a clumsy, mess of a man than that it’s “faith that’s accounted to him as righteousness.”
I cannot recall how many times I sang along to this theme song, punching and kicking as a kid in the 80s. But much of my desire to join the Marine Corps had its genesis in the 80s cartoon “G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero.”