Faithful Writers

By Guest Writer: Caitlin Heine For a long time, I was naïve. I thought men and women were in the same conversation about sexual violence — that we were just clashing on solutions, divided by opinion. I was wrong. We aren’t even in the same conversation. We’re not even in the same reality. The comments to my writing made that beyond clear. Men and women aren’t looking at the same picture from different angles, we’re describing two entirely different worlds. And the gap between what men believe and what women know is wider, and more dangerous, than I could of ever guessed. 1. Consent Definition Men: “If she didn’t say no, it was a yes." Women: “If I couldn’t safely say no, I never truly said yes." Men often translate silence or compliance as consent. But for women, silence almost always means a calculation. Consent isn’t just about the absence of force, it’s about the presence of safety. If it’s a first date, she doesn’t know whether a “no” will trigger anger or violence. If it’s her new boss, she doesn’t know whether “no” will cost her job. If it’s someone in her social circle, she doesn’t know whether “no” will brand her difficult, ruin friendships, or destroy her reputation. So she goes quiet. She goes along. Not because she wanted it, but sometimes because she couldn’t be sure it was safe to refuse. Men call that consent. Women do not. Maybe if silence can be mistaken for yes, they never have to face how many times it really wasn’t. 2. Men’s Fear vs. Women’s Fear Men fear: being falsely accused, reputational harm, losing their careers. Women fear: being assaulted, not believed, losing their safety, jobs, privacy, or relationships. When men talk about sexual assault, their fear isn’t violence — it’s accusation. Their nightmare is that a woman might lie , and that lie might cost them their reputation or career. They never picture themselves as the ones doing harm — only as the ones unfairly accused of it. When women talk about sexual assault, the fear isn’t abstract. It’s life. We fear being followed to our cars. We fear being cornered in our homes. We fear saying “no” and watching it turn into violence. And even if we survive the assault, we fear the aftermath: not being believed, losing jobs, families, privacy, and peace. Men’s greatest fear is that women might say something. Ours is that men might do something. One fear lives in what if. The other lives in when. 3. What Counts as “Real” Harm Men: only violent rape “counts.” Women know trauma isn’t one act. It’s a spectrum: coercion, intimidation, harassment, violation. Men rank harm in degrees. A violent rape by a stranger matters. Being groped at a Christmas party? Inappropriate maybe, but not life-altering. What they don’t want to see is that every violation tears through us in the same way: safety, agency, the right to say no. Whether it’s a violent assault in an alley or a “light” grab at work, the message is the same: your body is not yours, you are not safe, your boundaries don’t matter. The obsession with degrees of harm isn’t neutral. It excuses and it minimizes. It makes some violations sound survivable — and therefore forgivable. But for women, there is no sliding scale. Coercion, pressure, harassment, assault — all of it impacts our foundation in the same way. There is no minor violation. No lesser trauma. Ranking harm is how men protect themselves from accountability. For women, the cost is always total. 4. Patterns vs. “One-Offs” Men want: each case to stand alone. Women know: every “small” act makes men more bold. Men demand proof case by case, as if sexual violence happens in isolation. But predators repeat. That’s how they become predators at all. The grope. The persistence. The intern silenced. Each time he gets away with it, he pushes further. By the time the headlines break — 50, 100 women — everyone claims that they’re shocked. But it was never hidden. The pattern was there the whole time. Dismissing “small” violations isn’t neutral. It’s permission . Predators aren’t made in secret. They’re made in public, one unchecked act at a time. 5. Public vs. Private Risk Men imagine: assault as stranger-danger. Rare, dramatic, a man in the shadows. Women know: it isn’t strangers in alleys. It could be any man — a coworker, a boyfriend, a friend, a teacher, a cop. We say “1 in 3 women will be assaulted before 25” like it’s weather — random, anonymous, inevitable. But assaults don’t fall from the sky. They aren’t accidents. They’re choices made by men. We never publish the other side of that statistic: “ 1 in X men will assault a woman before 25.” Because saying it out loud would kill the myth of a few bad apples. Abusers aren’t rare. They’re everywhere. We count women’s suffering while we erase men’s responsibility. That’s why women grow up expecting harm — and men grow up assuming impunity. 6. What Men “Know” About Men Men know male violence is real. They see the headlines. They hear the jokes. They warn their sisters away from certain guys — and then still call those guys friends. Seventy thousand men in a Telegram chat trading rape strategies. Police officers beating their partners, shielded by their departments. Comedians, athletes, politicians — “open secrets” everyone knew until the public couldn’t look away. It’s the uncle everyone avoids at family dinners but no one names. The coworker who corners women at office parties. The neighbor everyone knows to keep their daughters away from. Men know. They do. But instead of naming it, they carve out exceptions: not me, not him, not my circle. The question isn’t whether men believe male violence exists. It’s whether they’ll admit the men they already know are the ones committing it. 7. Whose Credibility Is on Trial Men picture: a neutral system where facts are weighed. Women know: it’s our clothes, drinking, and history on trial — while the man’s patterns of behavior are excluded as “prejudicial.” Men imagine court as the place where justice happens. Facts. Evidence. Proof. But when a case makes it that far, it isn’t his violence on trial — it’s her character. What she wore. How much she drank. Whether she’s had sex before. Whether she texted him afterward. Whether she cried the “right” way. Meanwhile, his record is omitted. The other women. The accusations. The obvious pattern everyone already knows — all ruled “too unfair” or “prejudicial” to show a jury. His reputation is protected in the name of justice. Hers is annihilated in the name of the same thing. This isn’t a flaw. It’s the whole design. The law was never written to protect women. It was written to protect men from us. 8. What Counts as “Proof” Men talk about proof like it’s simple. DNA. Video. Eyewitnesses. Without it, they say, there’s nothing. So what does that mean for women? Should she pause mid-assault to snap a photo? Record it on her phone? Call in a witness? Risk her life fighting back just to leave bruises for a jury? Sexual violence happens in silence, behind closed doors — and then that same privacy is weaponized against her. Courts call her word “just an allegation.” Her body isn’t evidence unless DNA is left behind. And even then, DNA only proves sex happened, not whether she said yes. So what counts as proof? Almost nothing. Unless she fits the script of the “perfect victim” — instant police report, visible injuries, a timeline that matches what a jury imagines rape should look like. Proof, as men define it, isn’t just rare — it’s designed to be impossible. 9. Justice Outcome Men equate : acquittal or dismissal with innocence. Women know : those outcomes don’t prove him innocent. When men see “case dismissed,” “charges dropped,” or “acquitted,” they hear one thing: she lied. But those words aren’t proof of innocence. They’re proof of a system so broken it can’t hold men accountable unless the conditions of proof are so perfect. And that’s the loop. Every time a man walks free, it doesn’t just protect him. It reinforces the myth of false accusations. Men point to the outcome as proof that women lie. Women see it as proof that the system was never meant to believe us. The more men are cleared, the more women are doubted. The more we’re doubted, the easier it is to clear men. 10. Perception of Women’s Motives Men think: women accuse for money, attention, revenge, or power. Women know: accusations cost us everything. The “gold digger” myth gets tossed around like accusations are some kind of jackpot. But where is the woman who won by speaking out? Not just survived, but actually won. Name her. Because every woman who comes forward loses. She loses peace, privacy, safety, jobs, relationships. She gets dragged online, called a liar, a slut, vindictive, unstable. Even if he’s convicted, she carries the stain while he eventually rebuilds back into respectability. There is no payday. No stardom. No win. The only guarantee is harassment, threats, punishment for daring to speak. Women don’t come forward because it helps them. They come forward because silence is worse — because knowing he will hurt someone else is heavier than the cost of being destroyed for telling the truth. So if you believe accusations are about fame or fortune, name her. The woman who ended up richer, safer, freer, happier because she spoke up. You can’t. She doesn’t exist. The men who keep getting away with it? They’re everywhere. How can we ever have the same conversation when we aren’t even living in the same reality? Maybe we never will. And maybe that’s the point — men don’t have to. © Caitlin Heine

The real surprise is how normal all of this actually is. By Guest Writer: Caitlin Heine Author’s Note: If you are a man or a woman reading this and your first reaction is defensiveness, anger, or the urge to explain why you, or the men you know, are different, then I am talking about you. That reaction is part of the problem. It helps maintain the systems that harm women and children. Good men do not need this explained to them. They already know I am not talking about them. The Epstein files didn’t merely reveal crimes; they cracked open a lie so central to the structure of our society that reality itself feels unstable. And yet, on some instinctual level, we might be finally recognizing something we have always known, but spent our lives pretending wasn’t real. When thousands of priests were exposed, we told ourselves it was a few bad churches. When investigators found tens of thousands of men in online groups sharing instructions on how to drug and rape women, we told ourselves it was a dark corner of the internet. When a husband in France was accused of drugging his wife and inviting dozens of men to rape her over years, we treated it like a random, unfathomable horror. When reporting documented hundreds of abuse allegations tied to organizations built around children, we framed it as a handful of bad actors. Every time, we insisted it was an exception instead of admitting what it was: a pattern . Women have been managing men’s behaviour our entire lives. We do it constantly. We share names. We exchange looks across rooms. We text each other after dates. We walk friends to their cars. We plan how to leave before we decide how to arrive. We choose what to wear, what to say, how much to smile, and when to stay silent based on how a man might react. We learn how to say no in ways that will not get us hurt. We teach our daughters early too, whether we want to or not. We spend our lives trying to protect our children from what we already know, from what happened to us, from what we watched happen to other women, while pretending everything is fine because admitting the truth would mean admitting how unsafe this world actually is. Because deep down, we knew. We all knew. We especially knew when it came to children. That is why you do not leave your children alone with other men: not the neighbour, not a teenager, not the coach, not the teacher, and especially not the priest. We have always known. We need to stop pretending this is about rare monsters. It’s not. Every four minutes, somewhere in the world, a child is killed by an act of violence. In the USA, every 10 SECONDS , a report of child abuse is made. At least 650 million girls and women, one in four alive today , were/are subjected to sexual violence as children. At least 550 million children are growing up in homes where their mothers are victims of intimate partner violence. Fathers. Husbands. Coaches. Priests. Teachers. Doctors. Bosses. Billionaires. Brothers. Uncles. Grandfathers. The men who tuck us in at night. The men who walk us down aisles. The men who mean well. Every woman knows at least one man who crossed a line. Most know many. Some know so many that separating the memories feels impossible. The only difference between the men in the Epstein files and the men in your life is money. That is it. Abuse is not confined to the top or to a handful of powerful men. It exists at every level of society because it is maintained and protected at every level. Across every socioeconomic class, men protect one another and the systems that shield them. This happens inside families, in schools, in workplaces, in courts, in hospitals, in churches, in government, and in our homes. The scale may change, but the behaviour never does. They do not protect each other out of loyalty or brotherhood. They do it out of self-interest. Every man understands, consciously or not, that the system protecting other men is the same system that could one day protect him. They are not horrified by the abuse. Some are jealous because they lack the wealth and access to take their desires that far. This is the hardest part for most women to accept. It doesn’t make sense because even on your worst day, your most broken, angry, resentful day, you would not fathom anything like this. You could not do this to another person. You would never trade someone else’s body, mind, safety, or childhood for pleasure, status, or power. That gap in understanding is not confusion. It is basic humanity. What you are feeling right now is grief. Grief for the version of the world you tried to believe in. Grief for the hope that decency was the rule instead of the exception. Grief for the slow realization that there is no version of reality where men collectively decide to change, because this world works for them exactly as it is, and they want their turn. They are not going to protect us. They are not going to protect the children. So the only question left is: What are we going to do about it? © Caitlin Heine

February 22nd, 2025, I stared in shock at a Fox News article trending on my news app. “Wisconsin Democratic governor proposes replacing ‘mother’ with ‘inseminated person’ in state law.” In that moment, I knew a day would come when I would have to defend and fight for my right to say I am a mother in conversation. “So God created humans in his image. In the image of God he created them. He created them male and female.” Genesis 1:27 By His design and proclamation, we are created in His image, two genders equal but different. Both masterfully created to bring life into this world together, each holding a significant role. As women, we are honored to live unique experiences that only we can understand and be an equal counterpart in conception. My gender is not a trend to be picked out of a magic hat one morning and tried on, insulted or worse exterminated because our very existence is a threat that needs to be eradicated by those who wish to live in my reality. To offer up our existence as a sacrifice for your immoral purpose is a dehumanizing propaganda stain that I truly do not understand. To quote Brené Brown , “Dehumanizing always starts with language, often followed by images. We see this throughout history. During the Holocaust, Nazis described Jews as Untermenschen — subhuman. They called Jews rats and depicted them as disease-carrying rodents in everything from military pamphlets to children’s books. Hutus involved in the Rwanda genocide called Tutsis cockroaches. Indigenous people are often referred to as savages. Serbs called Bosnians aliens. Slave owners throughout history considered slaves subhuman animals.” I call out to the religious who stand beside the crisis our nation is spiraling through and support the dehumanization of both genders and wish to strip away my motherhood. Your religion is not Christianity, it is time to relinquish the use of that word to those of us who truly follow Jesus and the Word of God. In your quest for inclusion and indulgence, my gender is being expunged and the Bible is being trashed and rewritten before my eyes. It is torn apart page by page, and verse by verse because of it. Pride is now the word of the day that hangs negligently from your lips. You may think you are making wonderful progress, but you don’t look behind you and see the carnage in your wake. The soul you are destroying, your own. Christians are instructed to be separate from this world for a reason. “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:2 You are seduced by this world and blind to God’s word, only wanting your own because you are fat with slothful hearts. You are a destroyer of Christianity, twisting Scripture for your means. “Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Matthew 16:24. You religious are not capable of denying what is going on in this nation because you would then have to deny yourself of your worldly labels, those badges you wear in pretend honor. Your religion excels at propaganda and forced labels, you create new ones each day and often leave the rest of us slack-jawed at the new definitions, redefinitions, and word rearrangements you come up with each week. But my faith does not require any redefinition and is not a PR stunt to steal from. The Bible does not need New Age dissection or inclusive interpretations. You’ve bloodied the waters long enough, let those of us who believe in God be separated from your religion. You are of this world, not God’s kingdom. I do not deny or hinder your free will to believe as you wish, identify as you want, or force my beliefs on you, yet you steal from my Bible. You claim to want inclusiveness but I see, you only want that as long as you can take our free will, force us to identify, change our faith, and strip our genders. Do you see it yet? For as long as you keep trying to appropriate Christianity and the Bible, you are always going to get pushback from those of us who hold fast to it, understand it, and follow it. You have no right to claim you are of the Christian faith, any Christian faith. It is time you release my faith from your lips because it’s not in your heart. But then I see the dilemma you have created for yourself. You truly believe you can rewrite science to change chromosomes, fix genders with a swipe of ink, and think away my motherhood as though I don’t exist. That’s when I see the root problem you created for yourselves and why you still defiantly try to convince us you are a Christian. In your blurred realities, you can identify as anything you want; therefore, it becomes fact. You still want heaven. “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ judgment time. Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!” Matthew 7:21–23 “You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.” Psalms 139:1–4 No matter how hard you try to convince yourself of your lie, it is still, by definition, a lie. © Jane Isley First published in Biblical Christian Worldview. Revision published in Christian Wisconsin News , vol 25; issue 10.

In a society that is increasingly willing to blur moral lines for the sake of justifying evil, Isaiah 5:20 doesn't sound crazy anymore. “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.” A Minnesota State Representative sparked outrage by suggesting that LGBTQ youth should have access to pornographic websites for “educational” purposes. “They’re almost jubilant about being able to use these laws to ban young people from accessing content that could be educational if they are queer,” they said, commenting on a bill that would require age verification for adult websites, a measure intended to protect minors from sexually explicit content. The argument that pornography could serve as an educational tool for children is morally and spiritually wrong on so many levels. This representative also claimed that queer youth are not receiving adequate sex education. First, regardless of how one identifies, the basic realities of human anatomy remain the same in how body parts work and are discussed in sex education. Second, the scientific literature is clear: " One factor that may play a role in risky sexual behaviors is pornography viewing. [...] condom use is rarely depicted in pornographic scenes [...] Viewers who consume pornographic content – especially younger viewers – may learn from and model these behaviors ( 10 ), contributing to less condom use among sexually active populations at risk of STIs." Finke's argument is utterly demonic. Pornography is destructive to begin with. It distorts sex by separating it from covenant, intimacy, and responsibility. It distorts consent by portraying performance over mutual respect. It distorts relationships by reducing human beings, made in the image of God, to objects for consumption. Now imagine a generation of children being told to go to porn sites to “learn” about sexuality. What will they learn? That intimacy is transactional. That bodies are commodities. That aggression is normal. That self-gratification replaces self-control. That love is irrelevant as long as desire is satisfied. That is not education. That is conditioning. When children are exposed to pornography, it doesn’t “educate” them; it shapes them. It trains their brains before any moral compass can be formed and bypasses their ability to learn boundaries. It teaches them scripts for behavior long before they understand covenant, responsibility, or spiritual consequences. Scripture consistently emphasizes purity, self-control, and living honorably: "It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality;   that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable,   not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God;" 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5 And Psalm 82:3-4 commands: " Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked." Exposing children to sexually explicit content is a direct contradiction to this divine instruction. From a moral perspective alone, society has the solemn duty to protect those who cannot yet discern right from wrong. Attempting to frame pornography as “educational” inverts good and evil. Exactly what Isaiah warned against. Proper guidance fosters righteousness; exposure to adult content fosters confusion, desensitization, exploitation, and spiritual harm. How Did We Get Here? Part of the reason people are feeling so empowered to even suggest such demonic things and honestly believe they can get away with it is that accountability has been utterly eroded in society. High-profile cases involving powerful elites have shown that influence and money can bend justice with nothing more than a few words and a few dollars thrown in the right direction, while twisting moral and legal boundaries for their own gain. When those at the top appear untouchable, moral lines begin to erode everywhere else. At the same time, too many churches, spiritual leaders, and Christians have fallen away from Biblical principles, adding to this demonic corruption bleeding over this world. They are compromising with the world instead of standing firm in truth. They should be ashamed of themselves, and I hold them to higher standards than this and accountability for not checking under the fur. ( Matthew 7:15 ) When right and wrong, morals, and common sense are disregarded, it emboldens others to push boundaries in more and more harmful ways. These people believe they can bend morality, definitions, and common sense without consequence because they are allowed to. And if that is continued to be allowed. The question becomes: where does it end? Does it end when children are harmed under the banner of “progress”? When innocence is sacrificed to ideology? This is not a partisan issue. It is not left versus right. It is good versus evil. It is innocence versus Satan Pornography is not education. It is exploitation dressed up as enlightenment, and our children deserve better than this. © Jane Isley Sources: New York Post National Library of Medicine

"And there was a cloud that overshadowed them: and a voice came out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son: hear him." ( Mark 9:7 ( KJV)) Photo by Steve Gribble on Unsplash There are events in history that only a handful of men were permitted to witness. One such event confronts us on the Mount of Transfiguration. The three disciples, who would later become apostles, were chosen by Jesus to accompany Him up the mountain. They were privileged. There is no indication they knew what awaited them; Peter’s reaction alone gives it away. Yet up on that mountain, they were confronted with one of the most striking moments in their walk with Christ. Peter later writes: “ …And this voice which came from heaven we heard, when we were with Him in the holy mount…” (2 Peter 1:18). Before the eyes of three Jewish men stood Moses and Elijah; the very sum of the Law and the Prophets. James and John were stunned; Peter, being Peter, tried to speak. And while they struggled to process what they were seeing, a cloud descended, covering the two elders. Then came the voice: “This is my beloved Son: hear Him.” The point was unmistakable. They had followed Christ up the mountain, but seeing Moses and Elijah conversing with Him, perhaps they assumed equality or precedence or even superiority of prophets of old. Heaven corrected the thought. The dispensation of the Law and the Prophets had served its purpose; now the Son stood alone. He was the One to Whom they all pointed. The charge was simple: “Listen to Him!” It echoes Mary’s counsel at Cana: “…whatever He says to you, do it.” I have heard someone call that “the greatest advice ever given to man,” and I agree. Perhaps if the church paid attention, truly listened, we would be in a better state. Rather than exalting our: denominations doctrines biases orders hierarchies and “anointings,” We ought to exalt His voice and His leadership through the Spirit. The believer should be seeking out His voice, His leading, and obedience to it. What is the Spirit saying? For the Spirit never leads beyond the written Word, and the believer must be grounded in that Word, especially now that many false prophets have gone out into the world. The directive then, as now and always will be: Listen to Him. This is the heart of the Book of Revelation: “He that has an ear , let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” And that includes the church that is today. If this reflection resonated with you, you might also appreciate these other pieces I’ve written: Exploring the deeper meaning of light in Scripture. The Kingdom: First Is Authority before Territory Thank you for reading © KenbrianPhos

I’ve been thinking about this a lot, especially in light of the numerous excellent articles about shifting our mindset. There’s one mindset, in particular, I want to call attention to. On the surface, there’s technically nothing wrong with this layout. But, alas, we are human, and humans love to apply “value” where God did not. Let’s look at Genesis 2:21–22 “So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.” Then let’s walk back to Genesis 1:26 for a second. “Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.” Emphasis on that they part. Men and women were created equal and given shared dominion over the earth. Ever wonder why a rib? Of all the bones in the body, he picked the rib. The rib is on the side. God didn’t take a bone from Adam’s foot; He purposely pulled the bone from his side. That symbolizes partnership and unity, not a hierarchy to be trampled on. Here is my point of view, perspective, mindset, or whatever you’d like to call it on this situation that I want to share. As a mother, I can tell you from experience, this is also a good way to look at this. There is such joy in giggling and conspiring with your child to pull off a surprise for their father, grandparents, or best friend, and they see and understand more than you will ever realize. You will share moments with them when they come up gently next to you and support you, usually in secret. A child’s hug when times are tough is all it takes to hold onto hope. I think parents would be left speechless at all the little things that go unseen that their children do in the effort to help their parent(s). No one was ever placed under another in the way humanity has interpreted and abused. Humanity built that chart of hierarchy and fed it to the world for so long that it’s gone beyond damaging families and Christianity; it’s fractured them. Turn on the news, and you’ll see the proof. There was never a bone taken out of Adam’s foot. It’s time to change the mindset and rewrite the chart the way God intended it. © Jane Isley

"Scripture is a portal, not a prison. It opens us up to God’s movement, not a static system of control.” Rob Bell For a lot of us, the Bible has felt more like a rulebook or a history archive than anything alive . I grew up hearing that it was the “Word of God,” but it sounded more like a slogan than something real. I don’t know how many times I heard: B .asic I .nstructions B .efore L .eaving E .arth It’s not that the Scriptures don’t give us practical guidance and wisdom. They do. But here’s what I’ve come to see.The Bible isn’t dead ink. It breathes. It nudges. It comforts and confronts and whispers and roars. Not because the pages themselves are like a magic potion. But because they have the ability to inspire the reader to living a wise life.Think about it like this. A song can be inspired when it’s written, right? But doesn’t it also become inspired again when someone hears it at just the right moment? There are lines in Scripture I’ve read a hundred times. But then one day, in the middle of a mess, or a moment of quiet, or a hard conversation with God, I’ll read that same line again, and it lands different. It breathes. A Snapshot, Not the Whole Portrait Now, it’s important to realize: the Bible isn’t the entirety of God. Paul’s letter to pastor Timothy says all Scripture is inspired of God and is profitable. He doesn’t say ONLY scripture is profitable. He’s emphasizing the importance of Scripture for our daily lives. But, he’s not limiting God’s “voice” to only be found in the Bible. If God’s fullness could be crammed into 66 books, we’d be in trouble. He’s not that small. I’ve come to believe that Scripture is a snippet, a living snippet, of God’s personality. It’s not a full biography; it’s more like a collection of letters, journal entries, love poems, raw prayers, and prophetic dreams that are stirrings of His breath through human authors. It’s the kind of book you can read one day and hear grace. Read it another and feel conviction. Come back again and notice an invitation you missed the first ten times. Not because it changed. But because you did. And because God knows how to meet you right where you are, again and again and again. That’s why I also believe it’s important to understand cultural context and what the ancients “heard” as it was spoken or read. HOWEVER… If one isn’t careful, the argument of ancient context can become a prison. It’s important to do one’s best to understand the ancient context. But God’s Spirit can also use modern applications to speak to the reader. Hebrews 4:12 Hits Different When You’ve Lived It “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any double-edged sword…” I used to think that verse just meant “you better watch out or it’ll cut you.” Like Scripture was some kind of razor blade wrapped in leather. But now? I see it differently. That verse is saying: These words move. They work on you. They discern motives, bringing hidden things to light, and don’t sit quietly on the shelf. Both for correction and encouragement. It has a way of showing up when you’re down and saying just what you needed. Or calling you out when you’re headed down the wrong path. It’s not tame. It ’s not stale. It ’s not retired. The Bible still moves because God still speaks through it. A Personality Comes Through Think about it like this, when someone you love leaves a handwritten note for you, it’s not just about the ink. It’s them. It carries their tone, their humor, their quirks. You can almost hear their voice when you read it. That’s how we can experience Scripture. Not all the time. Not every day. But more often than not, when we stop reading it like a textbook and start reading it like a conversation… we catch glimpses of God’s personality shining through. God’s humor can be found in the donkey that talks to Balaam.His heartbreak in the weeping prophets.His wild joy in the Psalms that dance between agony and praise in the same breath. He’s not a monotone God with a clipboard. He’s not a theology professor. He’s a living Presence who said, “I’ll walk with you through this book so you can learn My ways.” Jesus Is the Word & the Word Has Skin On John said it best: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” (John 1:14) The Bible’s ultimate message isn’t “follow these instructions.”It’s “look at Jesus.” He’s the living Word, the walking, talking, healing, laughing, table-flipping embodiment of God’s heart. So when we read the Bible, we’re not just chasing verses. We’re chasing Him . And we’re reminded that God wanted so badly to be known that He stepped into our mess, wore our skin, and told stories that still cut through cultural fog two thousand years later. Why It Still Works You can have a day where your heart feels dry, your prayers feel stuck, and you open the Bible not even expecting much. And boom, one line, one image, one phrase jumps out and lights a fire in your soul. Why? Because it’s not about how spiritual you are in the moment.It ’s about how faithful God is to keep showing up. As Rob Bell once said, “The Bible is not a static work, but a dynamic conversation.” And the conversation keeps going. It Doesn’t Always Say What We Expect Sometimes the Bible offends us. Challenges us. Convicts as well as encourages us. And that’s a good thing. Because if this book only ever confirmed what we already believe, it wouldn’t be holy, it’d be a mirror of our own opinions. Instead, it stretches us. Breaks our boxes. Rewrites our definitions of power, love, justice, and grace. Not easy. But real. Not always clear. But always present. It’s an Invitation, Not a Report Card Too many of us were taught to use the Bible like a grading scale. You know what I mean: Read more, do better, follow tighter, or God’s gonna be disappointed. But now I read it like a letter from Someone who wants to be close. Not Someone who’s out to bust me. God didn’t give us Scripture to trap us. He gave it so we’d have something to cling to, wrestle with, return to, and breathe in on our worst days.It ’s not a measuring stick. It’s a doorway. And behind it is Someone worth knowing. Final Thought: Open the Letter Again Maybe you’ve drifted. Maybe it’s felt boring. Or too confusing. Or like it was weaponized against you. But here’s what I’d say: Try again. Not to earn anything. Not to impress anybody. Just to connect. Open the Psalms and let someone else’s ancient cry match your modern ache.Read a gospel and let Jesus interrupt your assumptions. Sit with a letter from Paul and hear a man who once murdered Christians now cry over them. Let the Bible remind you that God didn’t stop talking. Even now, it’s not finished. Because everytime it speaks to you in a new way, it’s alive again. A small snippet of God’s personality on paper…So we’d never forget He wants to be known. © Gary L Ellis Gary L. Ellis (1944–2026) served as an editor and contributor to this publication. His work remains part of our archive in grateful remembrance.

If you grew up in church like I did, you probably heard John 14:6 quoted more times than you can count. You may even have it underlined in your Bible, circled, highlighted, maybe even on a coffee mug. It’s the most well-know and quoted verse from the Bible “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” If you were raised in Evangelical circles, (as I was) that verse likely became the backbone of the salvation message: “If you don’t believe in Jesus exactly like we do, you don’t get to go to Heaven.” Note: I’m not writing this article because I backslid (as they say) or left Christ behind. Not at all. He is my Savior on many levels. But, I discovered getting the most from Scripture is to learn its context, or else you may miss the actual point. John 14:6 is treated like a line in the sand. You’re in or you’re out. Jesus said so. End of discussion. But here’s the thing: that’s not what Jesus was saying. Not even close. And if we stopped yanking this verse out of the middle of a very intimate, emotional conversation — if we actually slowed down and listened to what was really happening — we might hear something much more human. Much more hopeful. And far more powerful than a doctrinal threat. The Upper Room, Not a Podium Let’s set the scene. John 14 doesn’t take place in a stadium or temple or courtroom. This is the night before Jesus is arrested. The room is dim, the air is heavy, and His friends are scared. Jesus has just told them He’s leaving — and they can’t come. They’re confused. Anxious. Trying to make sense of what’s coming next. Thomas even says what they’re all thinking: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going. So how can we know the way?” That’s the question Jesus is answering when He says, “I am the way.” This wasn’t a theology class. This wasn’t Jesus laying out a step-by-step conversion plan. It was a moment of comfort, not correction. “I Am” — Not Just What, But Who In John’s Gospel, Jesus uses the phrase “I am” repeatedly. And it’s never casual. Every time He says it, He’s pulling from something ancient and sacred, echoing God’s name given to Moses: “I AM.” But when Jesus says, “I am the way,” He’s not handing out a password to Heaven. He’s saying: You don’t need to know the roadmap. Knowing Me is enough. The disciples were looking for directions. Jesus gave them Himself. Totally Ignoring the Context Now, I get why they grabbed hold of this verse. It sounds exclusive. It sounds like Jesus is drawing lines. And that’s what we did. We drew lines in the sand. We basically were saying (and say today), “If you interpret Jesus’ words like I do, you’re in (because we’re the real Christians). If you don’t, then you’re out (because you’re a God rejecting heathen). Here’s the problem: that interpretation totally ignores the context. This wasn’t Jesus preaching to the masses or debating a Pharisee. He wasn’t holding an altar call. It was a heart-to-heart. A pastoral moment. And we’ve twisted it into a doctrinal checklist. No One Comes to the Father Except Through Me…? Let’s talk about the second half of the verse. That’s the part that gets wielded like a sword. “No one comes to the Father except through me.” My church read that as a narrow gate. But what if Jesus wasn’t narrowing access? What if He was revealing access? Think about it. Jesus is telling His friends, You don’t need to go through a temple. You don’t need a priest. You don’t need a sacrifice. You already know the Father because you know Me. You see, the common teaching of the day was Torah obedience. It was know and the way and the truth. Jesus was saying, “Nope. I’m the way.” What the Disciples Heard Try to hear this like a disciple in that room. The one who just left everything to follow this strange Rabbi. The one who’s suddenly being told He’s going away. You’re scared. You’re confused. You’re not sure what comes next. And Jesus leans in and says: “I’m not giving you a five-step plan. I’m not telling you to memorize the Torah better. I’m telling you — stick with Me. You’ve already seen the Father. You’re already on the way.” That’s not a warning. That’s comfort. When Doctrine Becomes a Detour We’ve taken this gentle, intimate moment and turned it into a gatekeeping slogan. “Believe this or else.” But what if John 14:6 isn’t about belief versus unbelief? What if it’s about presence ? Jesus didn’t say, “Believe in the way.” He said, “I am the way.” He wasn’t inviting people to a belief system. He was inviting them to trust a person. Him. As Peter Enns puts it, “Faith isn’t about certainty. It’s about trust in the midst of uncertainty.” Beyond the Verse Here’s what we miss when we reduce this to doctrine: the very next verses in the chapter are just as rich. Jesus says, “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father.” He says, “I will not leave you as orphans.” He promises the Spirit. He promises peace. He keeps pointing back to relationship. Not once does He say, “Make sure to sign the correct doctrinal statement.” He simply says, “Abide in Me.” So What Now? Maybe it’s time we stop using John 14:6 as a battering ram. Maybe it’s not a test of orthodoxy but an invitation into intimacy. When we yank it from its context and frame it like a courtroom declaration, we miss the whisper behind the words: “You’re scared? I’m the way forward.” “You’re confused? I am the truth you’re looking for.” “ You feel dead inside? I am life itself.” Not someday. Not in heaven. Right now. A Better Way to Read It Let’s stop reading this verse like lawyers. Let’s read it like friends sitting at that table with Jesus. Let’s hear it like scared people who aren’t looking for a loophole or a threat, but for hope. Because that’s what it was. And it still is. Takeaway We’ve been taught to read John 14:6 as a line in the sand. But Jesus meant it as a bridge. Not a formula. Not a threat. But an invitation. He’s not saying, “Get your theology right or you’re out.” Let’s stop misquoting Jesus to scare people into heaven. Let’s start listening to Him the way His friends did that night — scared, honest, and leaning in close. Because maybe the truth isn’t a proposition or transaction at all.Maybe it’s the Person who sits with us in the dark and says, “There’s no need to fear. I’ll be with you always. © Gary L Ellis Gary L. Ellis (1944–2026) served as an editor and contributor to this publication. His work remains part of our archive in grateful remembrance.

Photo by Wesley Tingey  on Unsplash The Gospel: Good in Nature, News in Power There is a reason it is not called “Good History.” History is a record of the past, but news is a report on the present. Real news is fresh. It is information so urgent that it changes your circumstances the moment you hear it. If the Gospel feels like an old story, you have missed the “news” of it. It is not meant to be a memory of what happened back then. Instead, it is a live announcement of what is happening today. That makes it just as newsworthy this morning as it was two thousand years ago. The Question That Made It Click Before we dive in, we must acknowledge that only God can give us true understanding. I remember watching a video where a specific question was asked to reveal what people truly believe about salvation: “If you believe Jesus died for your sins today, but then you sin three more times and suddenly die, where would you go?” For a long time, my answer would have been “Hell.” I believed that if I hadn’t at least confessed or said sorry for those specific sins, I was no longer covered. I was treating repentance like a checklist and confession like a safety net. But here is the problem: If my salvation depends on me saying “sorry” for every single mistake before my heart stops beating, then I am not actually trusting in Jesus. I am trusting in my own memory and my own ability to stay “confessed up.” After all, if I save myself, I don’t need a Savior. For all these years, I thought I understood the work of the cross, but I now realize I had no idea what God truly saved me from. When Jesus died on that cross 2,000 years ago, He did not just die for my past sins. He paid for them all. That is why He said, “It is finished,” because the debt has been fully paid. Just as it says in Colossians 2:14: “He canceled the record of the charges against us and took it away by nailing it to the cross.” Why it is “News” If the Gospel is truly News, it means the verdict has already been handed down. On the cross, Jesus didn’t just pay for the sins you have already confessed. He paid for every sin you would ever commit. We often confuse the process of repentance with the payment for sin. The Process: Repentance is a lifelong journey of turning away from sin and toward God. It takes time to bear fruit. Saying “sorry” or confessing is only the beginning of that heart change. The Payment: Jesus’ death is the only thing that pays the debt. Our biggest fight is not trying to be a better person. Deep down, most of us already desire to be better than we are. Our biggest fight is to actually believe the Gospel. This is why Isaiah 53, in describing God’s plan to save us, begins with the question: “Who has believed our report?” The Sin That Blinds The devil’s primary goal is to make you miss your Savior. He does this by tempting you toward sin, but the most dangerous sin is often the one we don’t notice: pride . This is why 2 Corinthians 4:4 warns that: “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” This blindness often looks like “goodness.” The devil does not mind your religious duties as long as you trust in them rather than in Christ . We see this clearly in Luke 18:9–14, where Jesus speaks to “those who trusted in their own righteousness”. He tells the story of a Pharisee and a tax collector who went to the temple to pray. The Pharisee stood and thanked God that he was not like other men, boasting that he fasted and paid tithes. He had plenty of good deeds, but his sin was trusting in those deeds. In contrast, the tax collector stood at a distance, unable to even look up to heaven, and simply cried out, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner!” Jesus tells us that it was the tax collector, not the religious man, who went home justified. The Pharisee was doing “good things,” but he was using them as a shield against his need for a Savior. The Gospel is only News to those who realize they cannot save themselves. © Mikiyas Astatke

“Why would God give us four Gospels that don’t even agree?” It’s the kind of question that unsettles new Christians and delights skeptical TikTokers. The Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, tell the same broad story but often differ on the details. One has shepherds, one has wise men. One says two angels at the tomb, another says one. Jesus flips a table at the start in John, but near the end in the others. For some, these variations are proof of error. For others, they’re an embarrassment to be explained away. But what if they’re the very feature we should be paying attention to? The beauty of difference We’ve been trained to want a single, authoritative camera angle. We want one feed. One voice. One perfect version of events. But God gives us four. Four voices. Four angles. Four portraits of Jesus, all telling the truth, but none pretending to tell the whole truth. They overlap, diverge, harmonize, and occasionally jar — not because they’re flawed, but because they’re faithful. Like a set of eyewitness testimonies in court, it’s their very difference that makes them trustworthy. If four people described a public event in exactly the same words, we’d suspect collusion. But if they highlight different moments, different emotions, different meanings — we lean in. That’s how memory works. That’s how life works. And that’s how God chose to reveal his Son. Not a documentary. A declaration The Gospels aren’t security-camera footage. They’re not 21st-century journalism. They’re more like banners, declarations, personal portraits of Jesus for different hearts and histories. Matthew speaks to the Jewish longing for a Messiah, the one who fulfills the law and prophets. Mark writes with breathless urgency, dragging us into a Jesus who disrupts and demands. Luke tells it with compassion and order — a historian’s heart for the poor and outcast. John writes like a poet, pulling back the curtain to show us glory in the flesh. Do they sometimes place the furniture differently? Yes. Do they sometimes rearrange the order of events to make a point? Absolutely. That’s not trickery — it’s theology. Each Gospel is telling the truth on purpose — not flattening it into sameness, but deepening it into multidimensional glory. What if you’re the one who needs all four? Let’s be honest: we don’t read the Gospels that way. We skim. We search for our favorite verse. We memorize the Christmas story from Luke and quote John when we’re evangelizing. But maybe the very differences that bother us are the ones we need most. Because we’re not one-dimensional either. There are days you need the Jesus who weeps. Other days, the Jesus who warns. Some days you’ll identify with the confused disciples. Other days, the bold woman who just touches the edge of his cloak. Each Gospel has a different path into his presence. And taken together, they help us not just know about Jesus — but know him . And what if God wanted it this way? We assume a perfect Bible would be uniform. Seamless. Linear. But maybe God values something else. Maybe truth — the kind that grips the heart and changes a life — needs room to breathe. Maybe God wanted the Gospel to feel less like a script and more like a song: the kind you can’t stop playing because every time you listen, you hear something new. Jesus is not a brand. He’s not a curated persona. He is the truth made flesh. And the Gospels don’t just describe him, they reveal him. In different voices, different rhythms, different textures, but the same Jesus. This is where devotion begins Devotion isn’t about finding a perfect answer. It’s about lingering in the presence of a perfect Saviour. It’s about returning again and again to the same Gospel stories, not to master them, but to be mastered by the One they reveal. That’s why the Gospels are different. Not to confuse us — but to draw us deeper. Not to test our precision — but to soften our hearts. If you’ve only ever read one Gospel, maybe it’s time to open another. Read them all. Slowly. Side by side. Let them clash a little. Let them correct and complement. You might just see Jesus more clearly than ever. © Nathan Cole Want help seeing Jesus more clearly, one day at a time? Download a free 3-day sample of Identity in Christ , a devotional designed to help you sit with Scripture and let it speak into your heart.