What I’ve Learnt After 100 Blogs and 7 Years

This is my 100th blog, so I thought I would look back and consider what I’ve learnt over the almost seven years I’ve been blogging.

1. Blogging isn’t always easy. There are days or weeks where I can smash out blog after blog, and there are sometimes months where I have no motivation at all. I had told myself that I’d only write when I wanted to, not when I “had to.” I never want blogging to become a chore; it’s always a therapeutic outlet.

2. When I consider the first blog I have ever written and contrast it to the many blogs I’ve done over the years, my writing style and theology have had an enormous but gradual evolution. When I first started writing and studying God’s Word, I believed the Earth was created in 7 literal days. I thought that the millennial Kingdom would be a literal future kingdom and that anyone who didn’t believe in the same atonement theory as I, was probably a heretic. However, now I think that Genesis requires a particular nuance and theological hermeneutic to interpret correctly. Now I believe that the Kingdom was inaugurated by Christ and carried on by His Church into the New Creation. Now I think that the atonement is about a lot more than Jesus taking on God’s wrath.

3. One of the things I’ve tried to learn and embody in my day to day life is that just because you disagree with someone or even if you think they’re a heretic, it doesn’t mean we’re not supposed to love them. We’re all heretics to someone, and while I believe there are orthodox ideas we all should hold to, I’m not arrogant enough to think I know anything but Christ and Him crucified (1 Cor 2:2).

4. Deconstruction is a friend, not a foe. Long before I became a Christian, I had always considered myself open-minded and willing to ask hard questions about anything and everything. When I became a Christian, I thought those days might have been over. However, they were only just beginning. Deconstructing some of what I thought were fundamental ideas in the Faith weren’t always easy. There were friends and other church members I was always afraid of offending. Most of what I worked through was done in secret, away from the people and places I feared would judge me the most. Looking back, these people and places should have been the safest, most embracing of all. Some were. Many were not. In the future, I would love to see churches planted that fosters a healthy deconstruction culture while still holding true to Jesus.

5. I still have so much further to go.

To wrap this short reflection up I will leave you with a tantalising degustation of my 5 favourite blogs:

  1. Salvation is Liberation: Part I
  2. Christian Deconstructionism: The Good and the Bad
  3. Existential Christianity
  4. The Deep Blue Church
  5. Gaining Wisdom

God in Infamous Culture

Recently, I was asked the question, “where do you see God in pop culture?” Here was my reply:


In pop culture? I’m not sure that I do see God per se… I know that I see God in infamous culture. What do I mean by that? …. well, the world has a severe rape culture, I see God meeting victims in their shame and brokenness and their victimhood healing those wounds in this life and the next. I see a racist culture where God works to reconcile the oppressed and the oppressor through the Cross. I see entire cultures and people riddled with mental health problems amid a pandemic to which God wants to give transformed minds.


I’m not a very good Christian. Sometimes my language gets the better of me, lust and sexual desires get the better of me, hatred, pain and anger overcome me. There are some good reasons as to why this is the case. Mostly, however, I am a broken-hearted man, a sinner that has been trapped by darkness, and perpetuates sin. I am a man that Jesus redeemed through His atoning sacrifice. But I can sniff rubbish a mile off. Where do I see God in pop culture? I don’t. God transcends it and walks intimately with those who desire Him in it and works to save those who are trapped by it.
We all jump on the next hype train, the new fad, the new bee’s knees when in reality they’re all meaningless distractions from that which matters most – God and real authentic spiritual connections with the people around us. Many of these people live in insufferable pain and hardship. At the same time, we toddle along to the movies and drink our lattes (something I do all the time).


The aim of life is to live it in such a way that we’re all moving from Genesis 3, longing for Genesis 1 and 2 while eagerly anticipating a more glorious Revelation 21. We lament the loss of our Garden and the separation we had with the Father, as we rejoice in the reconciliation we have in the Son. At the same time, we hunger and thirst for the final day where God will make all things new. The story of the Bible grounds me even if it’s sometimes snatched away from me. The story of the Bible pierces every culture, especially that of the infamous. God wants to partner with us in bringing the Gospel that saves, heals, and brings about new life to those who have none. Christian, it’s time to be different. It’s time to be not just counter-cultural, but in the infamous culture that we all like to turn a blind eye to and trivialise.

Deconstruction and Reconstruction: Questioning the Faith

This is the sixth and final part in a series on apologetics that I’ve written with my friend Doug Espie over at Bride and World. To view earlier articles in the series, click on the following links

Part I: What is Apologetics?

Part II: People and Apologetics

Part III: Christianity and the Questions of Right and Wrong

Part IV: Reflections on Why the Biblical Story Makes Sense

Part V: The Historical Evidence for Christianity

and this is Part VI on Deconstruction and Reconstruction. Enjoy!

Deconstruction is the scary and sometimes liberating process of taking apart traditional theological ideas and seeing if they hold up under scrutiny. Reconstruction is the reformation of those ideas, and where they end up are sometimes different and sometimes the same. For me, a big de-reconstruction was around the age of Earth and debates on Genesis 1-2. When I first became a Christian, I was told by many people around me that the Earth was roughly 6000 years old. Genesis 1-2 was a proof text that God created the universe out of nothing in 6 literal days, with a literal Adam and Eve being our first two parents and that no one else existed until they had Cain and Abel. I attended seminars and was taught that evolution was one of the biggest enemies that the Church faced. We had to protect the Church and future generations from this scientific and biblically false worldview. There were nights during street evangelism where I would spend hours debating atheists, agnostics, and people with an evolutionary/Darwinian worldview believing that if I could poke holes in their arguments just enough, it’d save them from Hell. Unfortunately, in my time during those arguments, I never succeeded in converting anyone to Christianity. I went home week after week feeling deflated and frustrated that these people couldn’t see the world as I could. Eventually, I stopped debating with atheists and others from outside of the Faith. Instead, I endeavoured to learn more deeply about my own, to grow in wisdom and knowledge so that I could know more about the God I claimed to worship, myself, and the world around me.

In 2014 I entered into the wonderful world of biblical studies. I knew right away that my experiences at bible college would profoundly affect me in ways I wouldn’t even anticipate. My academic and spiritual mentors, coupled with other influences like the Bible Project (and books I was reading and podcasts I was listening to), unravelled an entirely new world of thought and personal development that I thirsted for. It was scholars such as Tim Mackie, John Walton, Tremper Longman III, John H. Sailhamer, Walter Brueggemann, J. Richard Middleton and even classic giants like Augustine of Hippo made me realise that Genesis 1-2 wasn’t so cut and dry as I had once been taught. Some of these scholars were evolutionary creationists (or theistic evolutionists) and trusted in mainstream science. Organisations such as Biologos facilitated collaboration with these faithful biblical scholars and Christian evolutionary scientists. Needless to say, my world was turned upside-down. Slowly, reluctantly, but surely, I began to embrace that a faithful reading of Genesis 1-2 didn’t need to be at odds with anything mainstream science advocated for. All in all, I fell head over heels in love with Genesis and after much wrestling, reading and praying, I finally settled on two things. 1. Genesis 1-2 isn’t a scientific retelling of the material origins of the universe. Instead it’s a theological narrative that makes sense of the purpose and meaning of the world the author was in. 2. Eventually, and even somewhat unwittingly, I became convinced that evolution made the most sense of the scientific data.

It’s a little strange for some; I suppose to end a series on apologetics by seemingly advocating for evolution. To be clear, I’m not. Evolution may come and go, and I’m definitely not a scientist. My point in this is that there are good deconstruction stories out there. Just because someone takes a different position on these ideas doesn’t mean they’ve abandoned the Faith. Yes, some do. Too often, we hear stories of once faithful Christians rejecting the Faith and even ferociously attacking it. These stories break my heart. My experiences with deconstruction (and I’ve had a few) have only deepened my faith and love for God. I would eventually become committed to reconstruction rather than letting the doubts and questions destroy everything I loved and held dear. Deconstruction can be a friend to the Christian, not a scary foe. During your time with serious apologetics, many questions that might challenge your faith will come your way. So here are some of my suggestions around dealing with deconstruction.

  1. Embrace the doubt. Don’t run away from doubt or use it to fuel some crusade against any particular brand or tradition of Christianity. List down your questions, and make sure they’re logical and concise. It is essential to know what it is you’re wrestling with and deconstructing. Don’t let abstract feelings and ideas cloud what it really is you’re wanting answers to. Do you struggle with the idea that people will burn for eternity in Hell if they reject Jesus? Great! List it down. Let the question sit with you. Don’t let your emotions around the idea (many of which may be valid) lead you to dismiss anything before seriously considering it.
  2. Research! Read widely and deeply. Listen to podcasts. Go to a bible college or seminary. Books are your friends. Don’t just Google it and find a random blog on the idea by some theological hack (ironic, I know). Go to reputable sources on both sides of the debate and weigh them. Give them time to work through you. A single question might take months or years to properly work through. That’s ok.
  3. Meditate on the Word. The Scriptures are the foundation for everything. It’s how we know who God is and what the Gospel is. “Blessed is the one who… delights in the law (teachings) of Yahweh. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither…” (Psalm 1). You may have questions about the Bible, about how to interpret it, about its validity. Good! You probably wouldn’t be human if you didn’t at some point. The Bible is meant to be wrestled with throughout your whole life. So sit with it. Let your questions bounce off the Scriptures and give it time to work. God is not afraid of your questions.
  4. So pray. I’m not very good at prayer. There’s something about talking into the air that feels unnatural to me. Nevertheless, some of the sweetest times of prayer I’ve ever had have been me looking back at when I felt God wasn’t there, but in hindsight, I saw Him working even when I couldn’t at the time. Suffering, pain, and brokenness often cloud our experiences of God (I’d also say so can joy and excitement). Yet, often they are the times when God does His best work.
  5. Time. I can’t stress this enough, time is your friend here. It can be very tempting to allow your frustrations and angst to get the better of you. “Idiots! how can they not see what I see? are they blind?” Probably, but you could be too. The best advice is, to be honest with yourself, allow the questions to sit with you, and let God do His work. Treat everyone around you as though God is using them to teach you. Slowly, with grace and love, ask questions with those around you whom you can trust. Go to your pastor and let God use the church to sanctify you (that’s its job, after all). Don’t have a point to prove or an agenda but let time do its thing. Let this be a season of growing in wisdom rather than a season of growing in bitterness and rejection of the beauty of the Gospel.
  6. Friends and pastors, chill out! In my experience, the most isolating experience in the world is having those who love you, the church God has called to grow you, push you away because you’re asking a few scary questions. The absolute worst thing you can do is dismiss and reject the deconstructing person. The church should be the safest place for these things to occur, not the enemy (as it is often perceived). These doubts and questions don’t happen in just a rebellious vacuum of heresy. They’re real people with genuine reasons and stories behind these burning doubts that they’re wrestling with.
  7. Commit to reconstructing. Pushing through the doubt (that never really leaves you – that’s fine) and reconstructing will, and I promise you this, leave you with a more robust and deeper faith than you ever had. It might take some time for you to get here. That’s to be expected. I can say without a doubt that I am more Christian than I have ever been on this side of my experiences, and I thank God for every one of them.

Apologetics is about defending the Faith and giving good reasons why we believe what we believe. One cannot defend a Faith that they haven’t genuinely wrestled with themselves. For those of us who wrestle harder then others, it’s my prayer that your deconstruction would be fruitful and Spirit led.

A faith without some doubts is like a human body with no antibodies in it. People who blithely go through life too busy or indifferent to ask the hard questions about why they believe as they do will find themselves defenseless against either the experience of tragedy or the probing questions of a smart skeptic. A person’s faith can collapse almost overnight if she failed over the years to listen patiently to her own doubts, which should only be discarded after long reflection.

– Tim Keller

Where are You Lord?

How long O’ Lord


How long must I wait?


What are you trying to teach me?


What are you trying to say?


What are you, Lord?


I cannot see you.


Are you in the green grass?


The mountain air?


A lover’s embrace?


Emptiness and pain are often louder than Your words,


Uncertainty and loss blind me to Your presence.


Yet, there is a stirring inside of me,


a flicker, a lump of coal, smouldering – gently within.


Tenderly blow upon these embers and awaken this old and dying heart.


Breath from Your nostrils – life.


Where are You, O’ Lord?

Reflections on Why the Biblical Story Makes the Most Sense

This is part IV in a series on apologetics. If you want to read the other articles click on the following links:

Part I What is Apologetics?
Part II People and Apologetics
Part III Christianity and the Questions of Right and Wrong

Enjoy!

“The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by ‘the veil of familiarity.’ The child enjoys his cold meat, otherwise dull to him, by pretending it is buffalo, just killed with his own bow and arrow. And the child is wise. The real meat comes back to him more savory for having been dipped in a story…by putting bread, gold, horse, apple, or the very roads into a myth, we do not retreat from reality: we rediscover it.”

― C.S. Lewis, On Stories: And Other Essays on Literature

Life is full of myth, lore, and drama that ensnares the imagination and catches us up within the rich tapestry that makes up our human story – that makes sense of our existence. Every one of us has this deep sense of our life, meaning more than it does, from the Sun rising in the East to the birds singing in the early morning. From the kettle boiling, our stomachs rumbling, the caress of a brisk winter wind, or the smell of saltwater in the Summer. The high pitched cry of a newborn baby and the roof of your mouth burning after taking a bite from a slice of hot pepperoni pizza. The gutted feeling you get over betrayal or the stress of paying your bills on time. The weariness one feels after a long day at work or looking after the family. For some, depression, for others, worse. Finally, the contentment (or excitement) of being in the arms of a lover – these are all paragraphs in the chapters to the book that makes up our existence.

The greatest stories ever written are told so that humanity can make sense of themselves. So that we can all slowly stitch together those chaotic, beautiful and terrifying chapters that we’ve all starred in. The world’s oldest stories, from the Enuma Elis (The Epic of Gilgamesh), The Hermopolis Egyptian creation myth, and The Eridu Genesis, to the Aboriginal dream-time stories and the Native American Creation myths, every culture and civilization has within their memory a story that defines who they are and why they’re here. For the modern West, we look to science and western philosophy to make sense of our humanity. According to evolutionary biologists, humanity (Homo sapiens) evolved from Homo heidelbergensis somewhere around 100 000 years ago. All life (a biologist might argue) evolved from the big bang event approximately 13.7 million years ago, and humanity is the latest in the evolutionary chain (that we know of). In light of this, philosophers like Fredrick Nietzsche and scientists in the neo atheist movement such as Richard Dawkins, and socio-political critics such a Christopher Hitchens might argue that life has no intrinsic meaning or value (this is called existential Nihilism). As Dawkins famously said, “the universe we observe is precisely what we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference.” However, for most of us, this bleak commentary on the nature of existence remains unsatisfactory. Most of us, perhaps even Dawkins himself (though he might never admit it), have a deep-seated sense of “something more.” One cannot look at oneself in the mirror of the cosmos and not have their heart leap as it longingly grasps for something greater than themselves. We want to be known, we want to be loved, but we must first know ourselves and our place.

Herein lies the power of the biblical story (i.e. the Gospel – the Good News). The unfolding drama of the biblical story compellingly peels back the lays of the human existence and uniquely relates them to God, to one another, and the world in a way no other story does. Why is this story significant? Because of the way we live, relate to one another, and the world around us, the way we relate to God profoundly depends on how we comprehend, perceive and understand all of these things; otherwise, Nihilism may be true. Let us then explore this narrative so that we may judge for ourselves how this story makes sense of our existence.

  • God gives meaning and purpose to all that exists and orders it out of a chaotic state (Genesis 1:1-25)
  • Humanity is endowed with God’s image (Genesis 1:26), and they’re tasked to multiply and subdue the earth (Genesis 1:27-28)
  • This image that God gives humanity is two things. It is 1. an ontological reality (a part of their nature) in which every human somehow shares in, participates, and retains something of God (separate but related to His likeness). 2. It is a task or vocation that God bestows upon humanity to live out this ontological reality. That task is to multiply, subdue the earth, and guard and keep the Garden (Genesis 2:15), the dwelling place of God.
  • Humanity fails at walking in God’s image. Instead of guarding the Garden, Adam and Eve allowed the serpent to enter God’s dwelling place and corrupt it. Adam and Eve, therefore, chose for themselves wisdom apart from God and decided to rule themselves apart from God’s love and wisdom (Genesis 3).
  • God takes Adam and Eve and removes them from His dwelling place, stopping them from eating from the Tree of Life. Humanity has now chosen spiritual death and disunity with God, and as a result, they are disconnected from one another and the creation around them.
  • However, God doesn’t let the world fall into chaos. He promises that through the line of Eve, humanity will be saved by crushing the serpents head even at the risk of the seed’s own life (Genesis 3:15).

In just the first three chapters of the Bible, we have a densely rich narrative that paints humanities reality. We were created and chosen by God for good things. For unity, for love, peace and joy. Yet we went our own way. From Genesis 3:15 onwards, the entire Bible is story after story of God rescuing the world through chosen individuals and people groups, eventually culminating in the person and work of Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:3-8). In the final pages of the Bible, the Apostle John tells of a world where through Jesus the Messiah, there will be no sickness or death. There will be no separation from God, life, each other, and the world around us (Revelation 24).

At the end of the day, it is up to the individual to decide which stories they want to believe in, and which they don’t. The Bible is a big book, and it isn’t something that’s supposed to be read and understood in a day, week, or even a year. It’s complex, gritty, raw, alien, but all too familiar at the same time. I believe, if we wrestle with every page and let the Scriptures speak for themselves, this metanarrative we call the Bible makes the most sense of who we are (image bearers made to be in relationship with God, one another, and the created world), where we are (in an unjust fallen world that we all contribute to), and where we’re going (new creation free from the tyranny of sin and death). My invitation to you is to consider its message carefully, reflect, and ask yourself this critical question “does this make sense of our story?” Whether you realise it or not, you’re a character in its unfolding drama.

How will your chapter end?