What if the most radical thing about the Lord’s Prayer… is the very first word? Let's explore how Jesus reshapes our understanding of prayer by beginning with “Our Father.” More than just a personal connection to God, Jesus invites us into something far more expansive: a shared spiritual identity that binds us to one another.

What does it mean to pursue justice in a world still grappling with the weight of colonial history, inequality, and spiritual disillusionment? In this powerful conversation, Joash Thomas—National Director of Mobilization & Advocacy at IJM Canada—joins us at Commons Church to explore what it means to be faithful in the present through the pursuit of justice.

In a recent conversation, I had the privilege of sitting down with my friend Joash Thomas to talk about the journey of writing, the legacy of the Apostle Thomas in India, and the vision behind his new book, The Justice of Jesus, releasing this September.

What did Jesus mean when he taught us to pray, “Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors”?

In a world overflowing with excess, what does it mean to ask God for just our daily bread?

Before Jesus teaches us how to pray in the Lord's Prayer, he offers a short but sharp critique of how not to pray. He outlines three ways prayer can go sideways: when used by hypocrites as a means to an end, by publicists as image management, and by pagans as divine manipulation.

Was Bathsheba to blame? Did David abuse his power? And what does this infamous story in 2 Samuel reveal about generational sin, trauma, and legacy?

One of the most important questions we can ask ourselves is “Am I in the wrong?” But let’s be honest—most of the time, we don’t really want an answer. We just want someone to reassure us that we’re right.

We all want to believe we’re good people. We imagine ourselves as kind, generous, and fair—but what if our self-perception is covering up the reality of our actions?

In 2 Samuel, David makes a striking statement about his best friend Jonathan: “Your love for me was more wonderful than that of a woman.” This has sparked endless debates—was this just deep friendship, or was there something more? But maybe our discomfort with this question says more about us than it does about David and Jonathan.

One of the most intoxicating narratives we can buy into is the belief that everyone is out to get us. It gives us a sense of importance—after all, we must be significant if the world is conspiring against us, right? But once we start down this path, it becomes dangerously hard to shake.

We all dream of facing our Goliaths—taking on big challenges, achieving great things—but how often do we actually step into the ring? Most of us don’t fail because of a lack of potential. We fail because we never take the first step.

The phrase “a man after God’s own heart” is often misunderstood and misapplied. Many take it as a glowing endorsement of David’s character, but what if it actually means something very different?

I firmly believe in the supernatural—in a God who lived, died, and rose again. But I also believe that the most profound expressions of divinity aren’t just in the unexplainable—they are in the perfectly loving.

Attention is one of the most valuable resources we have. Every day, we make unconscious decisions about what we notice, what we ignore, and where we focus our energy. These decisions are shaped by heuristics—mental shortcuts that help us process the overwhelming amount of information we take in.

Have you ever been reading your Bible and noticed a missing verse? Maybe you were flipping through John 5 and saw that verse 4 simply isn’t there in modern translations like the NIV, ESV, and NLT.

Samson’s story is one of the most famous in the Book of Judges—but when you really read it, it’s also one of the most tragic, violent, and honestly, ridiculous stories in the Bible.

The Wedding at Cana is often seen as Jesus’ first public miracle, but if you pay attention, only a few people actually realize what happened—his mother Mary, a few disciples, and maybe Nathaniel, who was from Cana himself. It’s a moment of transformation hidden in plain sight.

I recently had the chance to teach through some of Jesus’ parables of judgment, and I was struck by how hard it is to shake our first impression of a story. Often, the way we first read or were taught a parable becomes embedded in our imagination—even if a fresh angle makes just as much sense (or even more).

When we read the Hebrew prophets, one of the biggest challenges we face as modern readers is understanding the historical and political context behind their words. The famous prophecies we quote today were often shaped by complex geopolitical conflicts—something we tend to overlook.