Solomon has everything—and still, he seeks transformation.
David, Absalom, and the dangers of “hanging between heaven and earth”
“Trust me!” Jesus says, and the more he says it, the less the crowd is inclined to go along.
Amid our dying empires and institutions, we might recall the story of King Ahab.
Most days I hover somewhere between Adam’s “I was afraid” and John of Patmos’s “Come, Lord Jesus.”
Sarah Blau’s protagonists are childless by choice. Herein lies the danger.
Scripture does not accept David's behavior for business as usual, and neither should we.
Scripture is filled with sexual violence. So, we learned, are our own lives.
They use Pharaoh’s tools to dismantle oppression.
God promises to build a bayit, a house. But not one with boundaries.
My daughter wants to know. Even as a biblical scholar, I don’t have a good answer.
The conflation of Christianity and American patriotism has never done either one any favors.
The gap in the lectionary’s account of the return of the Ark of the Covenant echoes a pattern we have seen too often in our country.
Whatever else David is, he is recognizably human and not a fairy-tale king.
When David praises Saul and Jonathan, is he acting out of expediency, faithfulness, or both?