"Belief is not the 'substance of things hoped for.' Faith is."
You were thrilled to enter the crawl space, but also frightened. There was a chance of snakes.
On the seventh floor of Hogwarts, Harry Potter and his friends discover a magical room. My church contains such a room.
My ecclesiastical criminality has been going on for 45 years. It all started at a Trappist abbey in Virginia.
I used to lead activities like the "Privilege Walk" and "Cross the Line." I couldn't shake the feeling that they were not taking us very far.
Those of us who sought to change the congregation's communion practice met with indifference. So late one Saturday I took matters into my own hands.
Trump complains that tax-exempt rules require religious nonprofits to be silent on politics. He’s wrong.
There are some very important national conversations taking place these days. Few people seem to be saying anything grounded in theology.
Perhaps when we plant congregations, we should plan on starting two: one that lasts and one that doesn't.
When I walk and talk with a friend, we share an intimate experience. Listening to a podcast is similar.
Hope is the content of faith. Hope is the adopted son, the grafted inheritor. If there are to be, as with Abraham’s descendants, innumerable stars and grains of sands, it will be through this boy.
Paul says the hidden life is a moral one, putting off vices like a set of dirty old clothes.
Honest and harrowing, this spiritual autobiography testifies to God’s persuasive presence in a life that bears family legacies of slavery, alcoholism, abuse, and mental illness.
Oord’s kenosis model is a compelling answer to the problem of evil—one that draws on scripture, theology, philosophy, and science.
The physical reality of her son, the very tangible way that he is a part of her, will not go away. He is with her everywhere she goes.
Many Americans have gone from being squeamish about same-sex marriage to being squeamish about telling their gay friends that their relationships are less than valid.
You can never fully know your child’s interior life. You cannot know the measure of sadness or rage that may be unfolding within them.
Part history and part memoir, this volume gently immerses readers in Jewish traditions surrounding death.