By James Bratt When I was a kid, I never got the big deal about Pentecost. For one, it didn’t come along with any special

There’s something vintage Old Testament about the story, something decidedly like myth. But it happened; and just a bit north of Topeka, atop a hill

Last week we marked Ascension Day, forty days since the resurrection of Jesus, and the day that his body was taken up into heaven. The

When I was a child, I never had any trouble believing in an absolutely loving God because I figured that if God was even half

She leans forward, pressing her palms against the table. I see the fire in her eyes, a fierce tenderness. Or is it a tender fierceness,

By Luke Hawley There’s an E.L. Doctorow quote that I love: “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as

Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they utter knowledge. – Ps. 19:2 One evening last winter I was startled out of

I remember when I first read God of the Oppressed by James Cone. It challenged me, it convicted me, and it made me re-think my

Midnight. Pitch black. On these rural, winding roads are many carcasses–deer, rabbits, chipmunks, raccoons, and most of all, opossums. I’ve been driving this same route