2024

Some may or may not know I took a year off writing (despite this, I’ve had the most views since I started writing). In 2023, I posted one blog (I felt compelled then). It is 2024, and I’m slowly emerging out of blogging hibernation. From my first blog in 2015 to my next, as is faithful with most things in life, my theology and thoughts on Christian spirituality have evolved. I look back on my first blog and chuckle. I’m sure I’ll look back on 2024 in another ten years and cringe. Since I started blogging, I’ve started and graduated from bible college. I’ve married and remarried. I’ve gone through different jobs, moved around, and gone through various churches (finally, I’ve found a nice one to rest in). I’ve had my doubts and struggles. I’ve wanted to walk away from the faith. I’ve wanted to give up and try other things. Yet here I am, still tripping after Jesus (good blog title).

So what does this year hold for Scribbling Theology? More meaningless ramblings of a guy who has literally no idea what he’s talking about (I guarantee that). We’ll discuss God’s creation, beauty and some of the not-so-traditional ways of engaging with God. On the flip side, we’ll discuss the importance of finding a healthy community of believers where you can flourish. We’ll talk about liturgy and the importance of ancient rituals and beliefs. We’ll talk about how stories, both new and old, can transform us and lead us deeper into ourselves (collectively and individually) and into the presence of God. I’ll review a book or two (to start you off read, “How to Know a Person by David Brooks”), a podcast or three and maybe spin a poem. I don’t know where I’ll start or finish. But as always, Scribbling Theology has been an outlet, a creative and even spiritual practice that has helped me to release and vent my own thoughts.

Jesus Wept: A Short Theological Reflection on Grief

The darker the night, the brighter the star. The deeper the grief, the closer is God!

Apollon Maykov

Jesus wept. John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the Bible and perhaps the most human. I love this verse because, as I’ve argued elsewhere, if you want to know what it means to be a human, look no further than Jesus. Here, we have permission to weep and lament over the brokenness around us. For Jesus, this was the death of Lazarus and the pain and anguish it caused those closest to him. Jesus didn’t stoically trust in God’s plan (despite knowing He would resurrect Lazarus shortly after). Still, neither did He lose all hope under the crushing weight of grief. Jesus responded as the perfect human should; He lamented with genuine tears without losing sight of the future hope. Like the Psalmist, Jesus cries out in distress as He trusts in God’s deliverance (Psalm 55:16-18).

John 11:35 doesn’t just permit humans to grieve; it also shows us who God is. He is the kind of God who steps into our darkest moments. Yahweh weeps when we weep and feels just as burdened with the brokenness as we are (even more so). Despite some people’s tendency to pit the New Testament God against the Old Testament God, we shouldn’t be surprised to find the grieving God revealed in Christ in the Hebrew Scriptures.

Perhaps the first time God explicitly grieves is during the flood account, where “the LORD regretted that he had made humanity on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart” (Genesis 6:6). Interestingly when I read this story earlier in my Christian journey, I always thought God was mad with everyone for being evil (which they were). So, he sends a flood to destroy the earth in a fit of rage. However, the passage suggests that the flood is in response to human sinfulness and God’s grief. Anger and grief aren’t mutually exclusive emotions. We can be highly irrational when we’re emotional, even when being emotional is the most rational response.

Nevertheless, it is essential to note here that the passage highlights God’s grief as the emotional response, not anger. One can only speculate why. Some of my most grief-filled times have been because people I deeply loved not just broke my heart but went down a path I knew wasn’t good for them, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Here I can imagine God breaking down over the choices of the world as they were dominated by sin and, in turn, perpetuated sin into the world. Now, there are a lot of ideas and interpretations of the flood account (Genesis 6-9). However, there is one place I can land on here, and that’s this story is a commentary on all of our lives. All of us have participated in the brokenness and evil that has dominated this world since Genesis 3. God grieves for each, and every one of us as the renewal of the world edges closer and closer.

God’s grief in the flood account may come as a shock to some. The destruction of the world and everyone in it doesn’t seem like an appropriate response to grief. This is difficult to reconcile with God’s character elsewhere in the Bible. I have no easy answers. I know that the Bible portrays God as one who is intimately involved with His creation (Genesis 1-3), that He is merciful, kind, and slow to anger (Exodus 34:6-7), and that He loves the world so much that He sent Jesus to rescue it (John 3:16). Yet, God deals justly with the problem of sin, and I believe that Genesis 6-9 is a window into what will happen when Jesus returns and ushers in the New Heavens and Earth. As I’ve argued here, the flood isn’t just about removing sin and the destruction of the world; it is about renewal and God rescuing humanity.

Another notable passage where grief is mentioned in the Bible is in Isaiah 53:3, where “the arm of the LORD” is said to be “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” In the New Testament, this mystery person is revealed to be Jesus the Messiah (Matthew 8:14-17; John 12:37-41; Luke 22:35-38; 1 Peter 2:19-25; Acts 8:26-35; Romans 10:11-21). Even a cursory reading of the Gospels will demonstrate how Jesus was acquainted with grief. Perhaps we see this clearly in the garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus says, “my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” The author of Hebrews fleshes this out when he says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15). Finally, we see in Revelation that the suffering servant is the one who wipes every tear from our eyes in the new creation (Revelation 21:4).

There is much to grieve about in one’s life—the death of a loved one, the state of the world, divorce. I have heard that life is just a series of traumatic events we learn to manage and grieve. You could have everything and still be “a man of sorrows.” As I survey the Bible, I see how God justly deals with sin but is genuinely grieved over the state of the world. In particular, I see Jesus in the Gospels, where God is most human, and humanity is most in touch with God – I am comforted to know that the grief I experience, the depression, and the sorrow, is not overlooked. It is shared in by a God who could easily transcend the sufferings of this life. Those who mourn are blessed, for God is near them (Psalm 34; Matthew 5:4).

Other related blogs:


Existential Christianity

When Doing Normal Christianity Just Doesn’t Work

BoJack Horseman: Nihilism and How the Gospel Heals Our Deepest Despair Part I


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