The past few months of COVID-19, race relations, and vivid examples of police brutality further highlight the divisions that exist between us. How do we show Christian love?

We gulp this brew down like poison. Someone needs to be blamed if we’re to make sense of this brokenness. Right?

Perhaps this discussion is unfamiliar, but this pattern is well-worn and dangerous. If we are not tethered to the history of controversy, we start to long for a world that never existed.

This year, 2020, is the first year in our history where over 50% of our candidates are “minority” by previous definitions. The minority has become the majority.

What do we do with that loss? You can’t really have a funeral for someone who is still living. Yet a loss like this is in fact a death in the family.

Silence in the face of the Holocaust’s horrors is appropriate. However, silence in the face of the anti-Semitism that triggered that genocide is inexcusable and persistent.

We cannot lump all LGBTQ+ people into one category—just like we cannot lump all straight people into one category.

Jesus’ way demanded guaranteeing the care of people rendered vulnerable by the society of the day. It demanded setting aside discrimination and offering a wholehearted welcome to diverse people.

Jesus always called people not only to follow him, but to join with other disciples in doing so.

There is even science to back up what we know just by experience: there is a calming effect from walking in a forest.

Holy Saturday is the most in-between place of all because here the scriptural drama holds its breath.

Books and stories can plant seeds of empathy, and to empathize with another is the beginning of peace.

God has always been interested in getting to the heart of the matter (pun intended), so why don’t we move away from the externals as well?

Black History Month is an invitation and an opportunity to dig deeper into U.S. and Canadian history and the accomplishments of black people in North America.

Once, my mentee snuck out of our hotel in Washington, D.C., with her friends and proceeded to explore the city—without shoes on.

Storms and challenges, promises and blessings—“Waterfalls” explores the complexity of life through these biblical themes.

I have been drawn into conversations that are not casually shared, but vehemently debated. You can lose friends over this one.

The Christmas season often becomes the inverse of Advent. Rather than being a season marked by anticipation, wonder, and joy, it becomes an end-of-year blowout marked by consumerism, busyness, and sentimentality.

Nothing I have read so far explicitly names the greatest obstacle Joanna Veenstra faced in her preparation for mission: the institutional opposition of the CRCNA.

We’ve come to wonder if the problem with being included and fitting in is less about our girls’ disabilities and more about the ableist culture in which we live.

Surely we are not left with just two stark options of hypermasculine men who behave badly or emasculated, effeminate men.

As Christians, we need to dig deeper to find out what motivates our political groupings. If our leaders disagree on the right policies to pursue, it is often because they are effectively worshiping different and conflicting gods.

She didn’t care. But she cared that she didn’t care. Why didn’t she care anymore?