And it doesn't matter that Jesus never said anything about abortion and was himself not Christian, nor that he never spoke about trans people, nor that he absolutely fits the mold more as a communist than a capitalist, nor that he was undeniably a pacifist. It doesn’t matter because Christian Nationalists are not actually concerned with Christianity. They are concerned only with what they desire for America, and they are willing to trample the Lord as a means to their ends.

Rather, I see in Christ a reflection of a God who “so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son” (John 3:16). Maybe it’s time to do away with the idea of a wrathful God who delights in sacrifices and instead focus on a Lord who “desire[s] mercy, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6), a God who reminds us that, yes, none of us are without sin, but that we are stilled made in His image and deeply loved. Ours is a God who desires to be with us, not to punish us.

I’m not sure which side of the debate I fall on. I do believe in bishops and the historic episcopate as useful tools of unity amongst Christians, but I also believe that the teachings are likely more important than anything else, despite also agreeing that they should be subject to debate and change over time. Maybe it doesn’t matter than much. Perhaps, like with many other points of theological debate, this is more a problem for theologians with too much time on their hands and less a concern for the average day-to-day believer. Perhaps it’s enough to say the words with a sense of hope and wonder without knowing exactly what they need to mean.

If all people are one with this same Lord, who is Truth and Being, then how could anyone get away with not encountering this Lord? Even if we call God by many different names, and even if we divide up religion using our own manmade categories, it is important to remember that God is beyond our language and understanding. We cannot capture God in our words and ideas. We can only experience Her as She is - a Truth with many names.

Especially now in our world of Protestant work ethics and bodily shame, I think it can be useful to take back the image of the idyllic garden - a place where we do not need to toil and where there is nothing separating us from the God who made us or the creation we inhabit.

I’m going to make a claim here that will upset a lot of people who love institutional religion. And, truth be told, it upsets me a little because I, too, love many aspects of institutional religion. My claim is this: All authority apart from God opens the door to idolatry.

In those times of doubt, put aside your fears. Maybe none of this is real, but does it really matter? If you truly follow the meek man from Galilee - the man who blessed the poor and the wayfarer, who dined with sinners and saints, who healed Jew and Gentile, who went to his death without a fight - then what kind of person would that make you, and is it who you want to be? If so, allow your faith to move away from belief. Allow it to transform into allegiance.

So, yes, I can make a brief biblical case for universal salvation, but I also fully recognize that my reading is only one of many, and not even close to being the only plausible one. Ultimately, however, my argument rests on one simple idea: God is love. And I simply can’t imagine a loving God ever creating a hell.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Theology is deeply important. The way we understand God and divinity fundamentally shapes the way we interact with the world and one another. But this is not to say that I am an advocate for rejecting any cataphatic practices or statements. Rather, I want to remind us that all concepts about the divine are provisional. Cataphatic theology risks turning our ideas into idols while Apophatic theology allows frees us to worship the mystery behind it all. It frees us to worship not the God we can define, but the one we cannot. It allows mystery to remain mystery and allows our faith to rest now on certainty, but in awe.

My first spiritual teacher, and by far the person who has had the most influence on my religious life, was Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk who passed away in January of 2022. Until his death, he taught millions around the world through his books, lectures, and classes. He founded Plum Village, a Buddhist monastery in France, and formed the basis for a new movement within Mahayana Buddhism known as Engaged Buddhism. He was influential on the global and personal scales for many who were exposed to his work. Today’s post honors him by drawing attention to one of my favorite teachings of his: Asking myself if I am sure.

It is past time for “religionless religion”. The divine is present to us at all times, and without need for intermediates. God resides at the very core of your being. You do not need rituals or permissions to engage with Them. Stop looking at the finger and instead bath in the soft light of the moon.

History is full of prophets, sages, and mystics who have dared to speak on behalf of the Almighty. Often, this self-imposed right is used to declare that God demands we care for one another, that we feed and clothe the poor, that we be generous with our time and talents, and that we live lives of righteousness and virtue. However, perhaps just as often (and more often by the day it seems to feel), this right is used to cast down this group or that, to disparage and demean and demonize, and to declare authority over what the Lord of the universe wants or feels.

To be a Christian man is not to be strong, stoic, and hard of heart. Jesus wept, Jesus loved, and Jesus gave himself up to death without a fight. To be a Christian man is to follow in those footsteps.

A few months ago, my family’s dog passed. It was in many ways both expected and shocking, foreseen and completely out of the blue. Still, there are days when I get home from work and find myself momentarily confused about her not greeting me at the door.

For centuries, the Christian orthodoxy has held that animals cannot make it into the Kingdom of Heaven. The typical argument goes that they simply don’t have souls, and therefore are not eligible for the glories of heaven. Personally, I think that’s a cruel way to think of things. And I think I can make a pretty compelling scriptural case for animals in heaven regardless.

Anyone who has studied different religious traditions has very likely come across teachings in multiple places that seem to reflect similar ideas. Many people like to then take the next step by saying that all religions are ultimately saying the same thing, which I’ve often seen summed up on the internet as some variation of “Don’t be an asshole.” The reality, however, is far more complex, though I do agree that many religions are pointing in the same direction.

Still, despite this silence, we persist in prayer. We pray because we it brings silence, because it centers us, be it helps us feel a little more in control. There’s not end to proper ways and reasons to pray, but I do think there’s quite a few improper ways to do it. And one of those ways is using God as your divine therapist.

If you want to take Genesis seriously as a Christian, then that means taking women seriously. It also means giving them a seat at the table.

There is no Satan. Put down the fear and set aside the stress. The only adversary we have to fear is shame and all the rotten baggage it brings with it. You are made in the image of God - the image of a God that is love. There is nothing to be ashamed of in that. And there is no satan who can ever separate you from that God.

Ultimately, all ecclesiastical authority is arbitrary and we are not actually beholden to any one system of belief, regardless what the magisteriums and theologians say. God is the birthright of all people, and you do not need a middleman in order for the two of you to meet.

Dear reader, you are not an alien. You are a flesh and blood human and that is enough. That is already miraculous and truly needs nothing else to make it borderline unbelievable. You do not need to be from Alpha Centauri to be fascinating. You already are.