Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
Lent is a forty-day wilderness season that echoes the many forty-day periods in Scripture—especially Jesus’ time in the desert—reminding us that fasting and self-denial are not punishment but God’s way of strengthening us and drawing us closer to Him.
The temptation of Jesus Christ in the wilderness is one of those passages Christians nod at politely and then immediately ignore when Monday morning rolls around. Forty days of fasting, a barren desert, and Satan offering three proposals that look suspiciously like modern self-help advice. If you think it’s a children’s Sunday school story about resisting candy, you’ve missed the plot. It’s a masterclass in how power, identity, and survival actually work in the real world.
Some of the sharpest minds of the last century sensed the reductionist story was missing something. Carl Jung looked inward and saw conflict. The ego — the conscious “I” — wants control, moral self-justification, narrative dominance. It insists on sovereignty. Jung recognized the ego was not the whole self and that something beyond it pressed inward, demanding humility and reordering. He called that pressure the “Self.” He diagnosed the tension correctly. He simply refused to name the external authority behind it.
We are here because…choose your own reason. I believe there is a power, presence, province – a god – that has created the universe and that we, humans on planet earth, are merely an infinitesimally small part thereof and we are here for only an equally tiny span of time.
When Missler said we may be living in something like a simulation, he meant that physical reality functions like a user interface. We experience the front end. The underlying code — the laws, constants, and constraints — operate beneath our direct perception. Just as you don’t see the binary code behind your screen but interact with its output, we interact with a physical world governed by informational architecture we didn’t write.
Carrie Prejean Boller is a very attractive young lady with a very ugly soul. She claims to be a Roman Catholic, but I have to ask: is her Bible just one of those small New Testaments that the Gideons leave in hotel nightstands? Does she cover her ears during the first reading on Sunday Mass, …
There is a quiet anxiety baked into much of modern American Christianity: if you don’t support Israel—always, loudly, and without qualification—God might notice. Entire churches treat Israeli foreign policy as a third sacrament. Question a settlement policy or a military response and someone will reach for Genesis 12 like it’s a theological panic button. This fear wears the costume of faith, but it isn’t biblical. It’s superstition with a study Bible.
How do we navigate in such a complicated, corrupt world? The answer is in Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God.”
So we keep building Towers of Babel—just with better branding, larger budgets, and more acronyms. Corporations, governments, military bureaucracies, international institutions—all convinced that if we just add one more layer, one more committee, one more compliance office, the tower will finally reach heaven.
Did Jesus know where His journey to Jerusalem would lead? Yes! And He did it for you and me and for our “everlasting life!”
If you get 50% on a test, you fail. In marriage, 50% also equals failure, and not just the failure of one, but the failure of both partners, and then the failure of the marriage itself.
Author’s Note: This is the latest message I delivered at First Baptist Church of Montana. It is part of a series based on Hebrews 10:23 and focuses on the “Let us” verses throughout the book. In 10:23, it is written, “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” …
Below the marble statues and museum mythology, the Greek and Roman “lesser gods” look suspiciously like something the Bible already warned us about: rebellious spiritual beings posing as divine authorities, corrupting humanity, and manufacturing a counterfeit religion of power, lust, blood, and “enlightenment.”
If you strip away politics, slogans, and culture-war noise, the Bible gives a simple answer to why Pride—specifically the ideology of self-defined identity—is against God’s will.
For centuries Christians have fought to defend the Bible from skeptics, critics, and cultural drift. But very few have noticed the far more subtle intruder that reshaped their theology from the inside out. It wasn’t a philosopher or a heretic. It wasn’t Darwin, Nietzsche, or any modern movement. It was a poet.
The old preacher sipped his thermos of coffee, holding a fishing rod in the other hand. He asked what I wanted most in this life. I stared at the lake surface and told him I wanted peace. I was young, I came from a broken home. Peace was all I wanted.
Polygamy, in Scripture, is recorded, regulated, and relentlessly shown to be spiritually and socially destructive.
Winter cleaning, whether of our homes or our hearts, invites us to slow down, reflect honestly, and allow God to renew our hearts with grace.
Do you ever wish there were at least some things in the world that didn’t change? At least some things that were not destroyed by the ever-twisting depravity of our modern culture? I do.
One of the quiet tragedies of church history is not that Christians rejected the Bible, but that—at a critical moment—they reinterpreted it to survive cultural pressure. Instead of allowing Scripture to challenge the assumptions of the age, parts of the Church chose to soften the Bible’s worldview so it would sound reasonable to the world it was trying to convert. Over time, that accommodation didn’t just adjust emphasis; it changed how entire passages were understood.