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.

Jesus’ parables weren’t just random stories dropped into the Gospel narratives—they were responses to real moments, real people, and real conflicts happening around him. And sometimes, understanding the original context completely changes how we read them.

Aionios does not mean eternal... at least not all the time.

We're exploring the depth and breadth of faith beyond just emotional experiences. Is Christianity a relationship or a religion? Can both coexist? We dive into the tension between the felt, emotional side of faith and the structured, ritualistic practices that shape us—even when we don’t “feel” close to God.

Let's dive into the misunderstood concept of the tithe. You’ve likely heard that you’re supposed to give 10% of your income to the church—but where did that number come from, and is it really what the Bible teaches?

We are exploring the often misunderstood relationship between Jesus and the Pharisees. While the Pharisees are frequently seen as the “villains” of the New Testament, there is much more nuance to their interactions with Jesus.

Born again is a term that gets thrown around a lot in Christianity. We even have a category for a particular type of Jesus-follower, a "born again" Christian. But what exactly does this term mean?

All theology is biography. That is a paraphrase of something I once heard Fredrick Beuchner say. I love it. Because the truth is, all of the ways we imagine the Divine are a product of all of the experiences we have had throughout our lives. And that is a feature not a bug.

The narrative in 1 Samuel 13 begins with an intriguing biblical translation quirk in verse 1. The Hebrew text presents an impossibility: Saul was one year old when he became king and reigned for two years. This textual conundrum serves as a powerful reminder that the essence of scripture lies not in perfect alignment of historical details, but in the profound lessons we can extract from the stories.

Robert Alter cites Shmuel Avramsky's work here to suggest that the Amorites were a group of settlers coming down from the northern Aegean Sea, and there are lots of other groups coming down from the southern Aegean Sea.