I will likely have depression for the rest of my earthly life. But for all of eternity, I have been, am, and will be God’s beloved. And so I go forward, knowing that even in the darkest places, my God will hear me.
We know the gospel writers are only rubbing our noses in human limitations because they are setting us up to watch God blow those limitations out of the water.
The story of the peace initiative in Uganda and its faithful witness to peace and reconciliation, beginning in the midst of one of the world’s most savage civil wars, shows how powerful the witness of religious communities can be when they join forces in pursuit of peace.
A few years ago, Chicago Tribune columnist Ross Werland raised a provocative rhetorical question in the title of an editorial: “A pew or a canoe: Not a tough choice.”
In this Lenten season, when words slip and crack under the weight of our pain or under the weight of glory, I am thankful for the freedom to groan as in the pains of childbirth.
What the story of Uriah and Bathsheba tells me is that none of our stories is lost to God. There is a reckoning for Uriah and Bathsheba. God has not forgotten what happened to them, not in 3,000 years. And God does not forget your story either.
Recovering hypocrite. That’s what my student leaders had printed on T-shirts for orientation days when I was a campus pastor. The point was that all Christians are recovering hypocrites. None of us has always been consistent in following Jesus.
The hope of peace and security—of life—is ultimately rooted in the age-old biblical teaching that God created human beings in his own image.
When I started to think about retiring it wasn’t my work as a therapist that felt burdensome; rather, it was the mundane aspects of my work—the need for better computer skills and the need to allow for expanded administrative time—that propelled me toward making the decision to retire.
God took the raw material of David’s brilliant and sinful humanity—our humanity—and fused it in Mary’s womb with his own divine Son to create a new humanity.
Since the creation of the world we have depended on plants to sustain and nourish our bodies.
Presenting the winners of our first-ever essay contest for college students.
Elders should think of visits with congregants less as a “spiritual check-up” and more as an opportunity to attest to Christ’s presence.
How does our Christian faith enable us to carry on when hope seems lost?
The day you first tell someone about your struggle with porn is the day you first move toward healing. Yes, it’s difficult, but vulnerability is also powerful.
Those of us who have been raised in the tradition of Western Christianity can learn from our fellow Christians in the Eastern Orthodox tradition how to savor the mystery of our faith.
How can we be intentional in teaching our children to serve rather than to be served, to look outward instead of inward, to give rather than to consume?
It’s a Sunday evening, and my friends Bart and Katie are reading the text. They’re reading from the book I am preaching through—Song of Songs—a sacred text filled with lust and longing.
The measure of our grasp of the Bible is whether it is put into play in our lives (in community and through the Spirit).
Four members of the Christian Reformed Church explain what the denomination means to them.
#MeToo. At the end of 2017, this hashtag went viral as woman after woman disclosed that she too had experienced sexual harassment or assault.
As someone who teaches and writes about faith and science, I’ve noticed a troubling disconnect between many Christians and the work of scientists.
It was one of the most striking things I ever experienced.
Growing up in a Dominican home in Miami meant that when dinnertime rolled around, I could expect a plateful of rice and beans with a serving of news headlines . . .