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We Had Hoped

Silence. Then suddenly, a breath. Cold air rushing into empty lungs. Grave clothes abandoned on a stone slab. An explosion of earth-shaking light. Hardened soldiers’ knees buckling. Trumpet blasts and angels singing and sunrise. Silence. Then the creaking of a boulder shifting. A cave opening. A dead man walking out of his grave more alive…

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God is Dead

God is dead, and we killed Him. With politics and religion, with rage and fear, with wood and nails and fists we tore apart the body of the God and left Him to hang alone covered in blood and spit and shame.

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The God Who Bleeds

the God who Bleeds

I’m haunted by the mystery that Jesus was God in human form. Not an ambassador from God, not one part of the Whole, but the entire fullness of the Godhead clothed in flesh. The Creator walking among the Created. We have certain expectations for how a god should act. The myths tell us that a…

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