“PREACH THE WORD”: This was the motto at the school where I received ministry training. It was known for its commitment to biblical exegesis and literal interpretation. So, semester after semester, I learned what the actual words on the Bible’s pages meant, and how to explain that meaning to others. I was young in my faith and just learning to know and love the Bible during those years. But looking back, I think I learned to preach the Bible’s words, but not actually preach the Word. And there’s a difference.

While it’s probably true that 18-25 year olds of every generation are sort of anti-institution, we have not seen any other generation born into the age of the internet, extremely heightened by social media, raised in an economic recession, plagued by mental health diagnoses, navigating college during the most politically and racially divided moment in our lifetime, and then thrust into the workforce in a global pandemic.

Gen-Z is not a snowflake generation. They’re just accurately reflecting back to us the cultural chaos that started off this decade.

The birth of Jesus was the deepest, most heartfelt song the world has ever heard. God’s beautiful masterpiece made its debut with a note ringing out clear and bright. It has resonated throughout the ages in the hearts of those whose longing ran too deep to be satisfied by the pervasive but placid promises of this broken world. For centuries, followers of Jesus developed Christmas into a joyous recognition that where there is darkness, the Light of the World will shine through.

For Christians, suffering produces real hope by pointing us away from possibility and to what has already been done in Christ and the love of God that has already been given to us through the Holy Spirit.

Suffering produces hope, and I really wish there was another way. But if hope were earned through chances and striving and results and luck, who could attain it? And how many could attain it?

As we wait through our own silent periods, we wait in hope. The One who heard and answered Zechariah is the same One who hears us today. The One who sends snow to quiet the world is the same One who quiets our hearts even when we can’t hear him…

As we wait through our own silent periods, we wait in hope. The One who heard and answered Zechariah is the same One who hears us today. The One who sends snow to quiet the world is the same One who quiets our hearts even when we can’t hear him…

How do you join civic action with the work of faith? I look forward to discussing this with you in the upcoming (free!) workshop “Faithful Discipleship in a World of Activism” (September 14th, 1p ET / 10a PT).

Did you know that the Bible never refers to itself as God’s Word? Of course, the Bible is a primary means by which we can know God’s message and God’s Son, but we must distinguish the two concepts. Because God’s words, rightly read, point us toward God’s Word.

There comes a day when a wall is simply too high to get over with the usual means. This is a mercy. It is an opportunity. It is God’s means to “crucify our ministry” and bring us into greater awareness of our union with Him.

Bivocational ministry -- like so many other aspects of life -- often leads to an outcome unexpected by those who pursue it.

“I remember lots of laughter and tears in that community. Above all, I remember Jesus’ presence. Being part of that community helped Jesus go from blurry to clear.”

God made us interdependent as men and women. His vision for his church is that we would partner together. We are mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, called to steward the good news of Jesus Christ.

Communicating the gospel is difficult work, but when you break it down into “goal and hurdles,” the work can be shared.

What is Lent, and what might it look like for less liturgical churches to participate?

Asked how his faith and comedy overlap, Stephen Colbert talked about love, sacrifice, and how death is not defeat. As a comedian, I love this approach to humor, and think it’s a great starting point for any Christian trying to navigate their field.

But we are involved in the story of God. We have a role to play because the Creator God has invited us to take up our part in his drama. This is where the third lens, a missional lens, comes into the hermeneutical process. The Bible is not simply pointing us to who Jesus is, but also to what Jesus came to do. The Scriptures are all about both the identity and mission of Jesus.

Surely, Jesus meant it when He said the weary find rest in Him. There must be something to Him saying, “My yoke is easy and my burden light.” It can’t be that we’re meant to do Kingdom work feeling endlessly empty and continually anxious.

Paul compares discipleship to the hard work of farming and encourages us to persevere and trust the sovereignty of God.

“Family” is hard. But if we look at the images God uses for His people in the New Testament, we see that He refers to the Church as His body, as a temple or spiritual structure in which God the Spirit dwells, and as a field. But by far the overarching metaphor for the Church is one of family.

In fact, it is impossible to fulfill many of the Bible’s commands outside of deep relationship and shared life with other followers of Jesus. We are designed to be dependent on God and others. We need help reclaiming the depth of that dependence.