Questioning the Questioners

Jesus’s Prophetic Pedagogy of the Heart

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

Rome – The fresco of Jesus teaching in the church Santa Maria in Monticelli 

“You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.” John 13:13

Jesus is asked many questions in the Gospels; he rarely answers any of them directly. Some may see Jesus as cleverly evading the questioner. Yet I argue that Jesus’s “questioning questioners” is His vital teaching tool to awaken and involve his listeners in spiritual formation. In this context, Jesus typically responds to questions with another question, either through an indirect claim or a specific revelatory aim. Always! Jesus reframes the terms of a pressing topic and sheds light on his interlocutors’ root motives and spiritually compromised perspectives.

In John 13:13, Jesus tells his disciples, “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am” (cf. Matt 23:10; 26:18). As a teacher, Jesus adopts different teaching styles for formative reasons. As God anointed, Jesus speaks and embodies the message of God’s reign. He aligns with the prophets of Israel’s past, including John, his immediate predecessor. Jesus seeks to heal and to reveal. Divine revelation aims to open and purify the heart before God. This prepares people to receive God’s Torah written on their hearts (Jer. 31:33). The new covenant transforms the heart from within, and this transformation lies at the center of faithful living.

The Teacher of the Coming Kingdom

To be specific, we must set forth the “givens” of Jesus as a teacher from the context of His ministry and mission. First, Jesus came to proclaim the coming of the Kingdom of God. Second, He is to make disciples, to “seek and save the lost”; “to give His life as a ransom for many”; “to save sinners”; “to save the sick”; and to do all this by summoning His hearers to metanoia, which means calling forth repentance before the coming of the reign of God. To fulfill this goal, Jesus is willing to say to His own disciples what He also said to those who approach, question, and dispute with Him. Therefore, Jesus clearly accepts and even promotes an environment conducive to dialogue, questioning, and discussion.

The Prophet of the Heart

As a theologian, I am quick to point out that Jesus does not have educational exchanges to get the facts. He debates to fulfill God’s will. He exposes and shapes the listener’s core desires, assumptions, and perspectives. Jesus is NOT willing to engage a question directly when the basic question and exchange have already been molded to be anti-kingdom. Jesus’s pedagogy is not aimed at the heart to access commitments, intentions, desires, and core thoughts. Jesus grappled with reason to access the heart for the Kingdom. Jesus is fiercely consistent, whether in response to a question or a straightforward demand. In Luke 12:13–14 (NIV), someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” Jesus replies, “Man, who appointed me a judge or an arbiter between you?” Rather than simply saying, “No, I won’t do that,” Jesus’s question functions as a claim: why are you trying to use me or manipulate me to resolve your family’s financial dispute? In Luke 12, Jesus confronts greed, worry, and conflict over material security as crucial issues that can obstruct sincere acceptance of proclamation. This is, however, just one instance of Jesus questioning the nature of one’s actions to address a broader, perennial challenge to entering the way of the kingdom. Jesus ultimately seeks to reveal and transform a person’s bedrock desires and intentions so they may see and enter the way of God’s reign. Shalom.

Heavenly Father,

Today, we choose to pay close attention to wisdom and listen intently to understanding. Help us to trust in the Lord with all our heart and lean ONLY on your understanding. In all our ways, may we acknowledge Jesus. And we ask you to direct our paths. We ask you to remove our proud hearts so that we can trust in You. In Jesus’ precious name we pray. Amen

Practicing Resurrection: Answering Christ’s Call to Love, Obey, and Follow

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

Rome – Ascension of the Lord painting of Chiesa Nuova

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.”—John 15:9–11

Writing from a Nazi prison, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “What keeps gnawing at me is the question, Who is Christ actually for us today?” That question still presses on every serious Christian. Jesus put this issue before his disciples during his farewell supper when he said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments…You are my friends if you do what I command you” (Jn 15:14 In this sense,  He repeated this challenge in the Sermon on the Mount, “Not everybody who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will get into the kingdom of heaven. Only those who do the will of my Father who is in heaven will enter” (Matt 7:21).  The risen Christ, while eating breakfast with Peter on the beach, asks him the same question three times, “Simon, do you love me?” Peter replies each time, “Lord, you know I love you.” In light of Peter’s triple denial, Jesus gave him a concrete command: “Feed my sheep.” He concluded with the words, “Follow me” (John 21:15–19).

Jesus was consistent and clear. He was not looking for admirers who would merely nod in agreement with the Sermon on the Mount. He called followers who would put his words into practice. Because God raised Jesus from the dead, we follow the living Christ here and now. To “practice resurrection” is not simply to admire Jesus from a distance, but to let his risen life take shape in our own lives.  

In Christian thought, “practicing resurrection” is a theological concept that means rather than waiting for resurrection only after death, believers “practice resurrection” by embodying qualities associated with resurrection life: hope in the face of despair, forgiveness and reconciliation, justice and compassion, renewal after failure or loss, and participation in God’s work of bringing new life to the world. This phrase is associated with writer and pastor Eugene Peterson, who used it to describe the daily life of discipleship. Fortunately, “practicing resurrection” is something that most of us are already living. We were made in, through, and for Christ (Col 1:16). He has taken our human nature upon himself and joined our lives to his own. Our “life is in Christ, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Cor 1:30). God created us to know him.  We are given a gracious participation in God’s own goodness. This grace enables us to know God even though apart from him, we are incapable of and unfit for such knowledge.

If we seek knowledge of God by grace through faith, we will walk the way of Jesus, because anyone who seeks to know God will pursue the mind of Christ and the humility and obedience that go with it. We anticipate the life of fellowship we will share with God for eternity. As Paul reflects this kind of mindset, we are to “seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.” Irenaeus said it well when he wrote, “The Word of God, Jesus Christ, on account of his great love for mankind, became what we are in order to make us what he is himself.”

Shalom.

Does the Bible Ever Say God Has No Power Over Evil?

By Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

“Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26:53).

One of the most difficult questions Christians face is the problem of evil. If God is good and all-powerful, why does suffering continue? Philosophers such as A. N. Whitehead and Edgar Sheffield Brightman have proposed that God wants to stop evil but lacks the power to do so. While this may be an attempt to argue the problem of evil, it faces a significant biblical challenge: nowhere does God clearly reveal that He is powerless against evil.

The Bible’s teaching is that God is sovereign and powerful, even when His purposes remain hidden from human understanding. Today, we continue to wrestle with the mystery of suffering, but it never resolves that mystery by claiming that God is unable to act. In fact, the opposite appears to be true.

Consider the book of Job. Job repeatedly questions why he is suffering and seeks an explanation from God. God finally responds. He does not tell Job that evil exists because His power is limited. Instead, God points Job to the vastness of divine wisdom and authority over creation. The answer is not divine weakness but human limitation in understanding God’s purposes.

The same pattern appears in the life of Jesus. At His arrest, Jesus tells His disciples, “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26:53). This statement is significant because Jesus acknowledges that God has the power to intervene immediately. The reason God does not stop the crucifixion is not inability but purpose. God chooses to allow the suffering of Christ because it serves a greater redemptive plan.

This distinction is crucial. The Bible does not teach that God approves of evil or delights in suffering. Evil remains evil. Tragedy remains tragic. Yet Scripture repeatedly affirms that God can bring good out of even the darkest circumstances. Joseph expressed this truth to his brothers when he declared, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Genesis 50:20). The evil action was real, but God was still able to work through it for a greater purpose.

Paul Moser argues that if God were truly limited in power, one would expect God to disclose that fact clearly. Such a revelation would answer many objections people raise against God’s goodness. If God cannot prevent evil, then much of humanity’s anger toward Him would be misplaced. Yet Scripture provides no such explanation. Instead, the biblical witness consistently encourages trust in God’s wisdom, goodness, and ultimate victory over evil.

This does not mean Christians possess a complete explanation for every instance of suffering. We often lack a full theodicy, a comprehensive account of why God allows particular evils. The Bible itself acknowledges this limitation. God’s ways are frequently beyond human comprehension. However, ignorance of God’s purposes is not the same thing as evidence of God’s weakness.

Patience therefore becomes an essential Christian virtue. We naturally want immediate answers and immediate justice. We want God to operate according to our timetable. Yet Scripture repeatedly reminds us that God’s timing differs from ours. The fact that evil continues today does not prove that God lacks power. Rather, it may indicate that God’s redemptive purposes are not yet complete.

The Christian hope is not that God is struggling against forces beyond His control. The Christian hope is that God remains sovereign even when His purposes are hidden from us. While we may not understand why evil is permitted in every circumstance, the Bible never suggests that evil persists because God is powerless to stop it. Instead, believers are called to trust that God will ultimately redeem evil with good and bring His purposes to completion in the fullness of time.

Heavenly Father, We thank you for Your glory that never remains hidden from us. Give us strength to trust that You will redeem evil with good. Keep shalom in our hearts so that we do not need explanations. We simply need faith. In Jesus’ precious name we pray, Amen.

Resource

Moser, Paul K. The Divine Goodness of Jesus : Impact and Response. Cambridge, United Kingdom ; Cambridge University Press, 2021. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/liberty/detail.action?

The Author Who Enters His Own Story

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

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.” So, God created mankind in his own image,
in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.                               
Genesis 1: 26–27

Yes, we address God our Father with many names. YHWH, Elohim, El Shaddai, Jehovah Rapha. Another way I understand God’s relationship with all of us is as the Author of all creation, His living story. Many of us, through J.R.R Tolkien, read how he shaped Middle-earth with language, imagination, and design. God is THE Creator. The difference between Tolkien and THE Creator is infinite: Tolkien made a fictional world, while God authors reality itself.

The theologian Kevin Vanhoozer discusses God as the Author of His own story, naming it Theodramatic Theology.

What is Authorial Analogy?

A human author writes. God creates.

An author creates with words, while God creates when He speaks.

An author shapes the plot. God creates the plot as He writes our story.

An author writes the story from beginning to end, but God knows the end before our beginning.

God does not need ink; He creates with His Power.

In Genesis, when God speaks, light appears. When He speaks, life begins. Psalm 33 says, “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made.”

Three Types of Divine Authorship

Authorial Analogy can be explained in three ways.

  1. God as our divine author creates with order, beauty, meaning, and life. Authors have that goal as well.
  2. God shapes history by just creating and stepping back. Yet He chooses to join the story. In the Bible, God spoke to Abraham, sent prophets, became Christ, and took part in the story He writes.
  3. By speaking and working through human writers, God has given us Scripture. In this way His voice is heard in many times, places, and styles.

What About Human Freedom?

How can we be free if God is our Creator? This question is often asked. Are we merely puppets? I don’t think so. God does not do all the talking, keeping us silent. He wants to have a conversation. God speaks, and we should respond! Right away! I have experienced this: God calls, convicts, persuades, reveals, and teaches. This is how He heals us. God waits for us to respond. When we choose to listen and talk to God, our hearts soften. But the opposite is true as well: when we choose to resist, our hearts harden. God does not force this conversation; He waits for us to choose to join His story. He holds the whole story in His hands.

  • We are responsible to God and others within the story God writes.
  • God can stand outside His creation, just as an author is physically outside His story.
  • Yet, God IS present within creation. Therefore, he can be compared to the author who steps into His own story.

The Bible

Where can we read God’s story? Open the Bible. We can read how He creates, makes covenants, and gives us shalom (peace) through His Word. Not only does God speak in the Bible, but He is present in the Bible because He is speaking directly to you. That is why I call Him the Author of all Creation. We live God’s story because He speaks, sustains, and guides.

“As Author, God is not limited by his created work … one authorial day is like a character’s thousand years (2 Pet. 3:8). The Author can open the text to any page, flip back and forth at will, and write himself into the drama of human history: God’s Word and Spirit are in created time but not of it.” Kevin Vanhoozer

Shall we pray?

Heavenly Father,

We weave fictions of our lives with words. We create myths without Your authorship. We welcome Your Words that build a holy place in our hearts while turning love into beautiful music. We still do not fully understand Your way. In Christ, the language You put in our hearts illuminates this dim world. May Your love always cleanse our minds and replenish us with joy. In Jesus’ precious name we pray. Amen.

Resources

Freeman, Austin M. “The Author of the Epic: Tolkien, Evolution, and God’s Story.” Zygon 56, no. 2 (2021): 500–516. EBSCOhost.

Hronich, Andrew. 2025. “God and Indiana Jones.” Liberty Theological Review 9, (1). 

Settecase, Parker. “Don’t Write off the Absentee Author: Why the Problems of Divine Hiddenness and Neglect Don’t Destroy Vanhoozer’s Authorial Analogy.” Perichoresis 21, no. 4 (2023): 34–51. https://doi.org/10.2478/perc-2023-0030.

How God Restores What Trauma Breaks

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” — Psalm 147:3

Trauma has a way of breaking life open. It can shatter our sense of safety, silence our voice, and fracture our identity. Neuroscience shows that when people relive traumatic memories, the brain’s language centers go quiet while emotional centers flare with activity. This is why survivors often say, “I don’t have words for what happened.” Trauma steals language.

But God has always been in the business of restoring what was broken—especially the parts of us that feel too shattered to name. And Scripture gives us a powerful pattern: healing often begins when people reclaim their story.

Interestingly, modern research on expressive writing echoes this same truth. When trauma survivors write about their experiences, they re-engage the parts of the brain responsible for language, narrative, and meaning-making. Over time, expressive writing has been shown to reduce anxiety, improve mood, strengthen working memory, and support post-traumatic growth.

Science and Scripture meet in a beautiful place: healing begins when we bring our story into the light.

David’s Psalms: When Pain Finds Its Voice

The Psalms are filled with raw, unfiltered emotion. David writes through fear, betrayal, grief, and despair. He names what feels unspeakable. He puts chaos into language.

This mirrors what expressive writing does today—helping the brain integrate overwhelming experiences and restore emotional balance. David’s writing becomes both prayer and processing, a sacred act of survival.

Joseph’s Redemption: Rewriting a Wounded Story

Joseph endured betrayal, abandonment, false accusation, and imprisonment. Years later, he reframes his story with God’s help:

“You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” — Genesis 50:20

This is meaning-making—the same cognitive shift expressive writing often produces. Joseph doesn’t erase the trauma; he integrates it. His identity is rebuilt not by forgetting the pain but by understanding it through God’s lens.

Job’s Lament: Wrestling Toward Understanding

Job’s suffering is overwhelming—loss of family, livelihood, health, and dignity. Much of the book is Job trying to make sense of his pain. He speaks, questions, laments, and reflects. He narrates his trauma in real time.

This mirrors the therapeutic process: naming the pain, exploring its meaning, and slowly reconstructing identity after devastation. Job’s restoration is not only physical; it is deeply narrative.

Israel’s Exile: Remembering, Rebuilding, and Returning

The exile is a national trauma. Israel loses home, identity, and stability. In response, the prophets call the people to remember, write, and tell their story. Lamentations records communal grief. Ezra and Nehemiah describe rebuilding both the city and the people’s identity.

God leads them through a process of naming the loss, narrating the experience, and rebuilding life with new meaning—just as expressive writing helps trauma survivors do today.

The Risen Christ: Scars That Tell a Story

After the resurrection, Jesus appears with His scars still visible. The wounds remain, but they no longer signify defeat—they signify victory, identity, and purpose.

This is the heart of trauma recovery: the wound becomes part of the story, not the end of it.

Where Scripture and Science Meet: Healing Through Story

Modern research shows that expressive writing helps trauma survivors:

  • Re-engage language centers
  • Integrate fragmented memories
  • Reduce distress
  • Improve mood and functioning
  • Rebuild meaning
  • Experience post-traumatic growth

Scripture shows God leading people through the same arc:

  • Naming the trauma (Psalms, Lamentations)
  • Narrating the experience (Job, Joseph)
  • Rebuilding identity (Exile and Return)
  • Finding meaning in suffering (Paul)
  • Transforming wounds into testimony (Jesus)

Both tell the same truth: healing often begins when we reclaim our story.

Trauma may silence us, but God invites us to speak—to write, to remember, to narrate, to rebuild. Expressive writing becomes not just a therapeutic tool but a spiritual practice, a way of joining the long biblical tradition of people who found healing by putting their pain into words.

And in doing so, we discover what Scripture has always promised: our wounds can become part of a redeemed story.

A Prayer for Healing and Restoration

Father, You see every wound, every memory, every moment that felt too heavy to carry. You know the places where trauma has stolen our words and fractured our sense of self. Today, we ask You to gently restore what has been broken. Give us courage to name our pain, strength to write our story, and grace to see Your hand in every chapter. Bind up the wounds that still ache. Bring light to the places that feel dark. And transform our scars into testimonies of Your faithfulness. Amen.

Turning our Hearts to God

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.–Exodus 15:2

Our lives are meant for more than what we can see here and now. Deep within every believer is a longing for God—the One who made us, saves us, and leads us toward eternal life. Prayer is one way we answer that longing. Sometimes it is spoken, sometimes silent, and sometimes sung. That is part of the thrill of singing in the choir at First Baptist Lubbock. When we sing together, we are praying with melody, worshiping with friends, and turning our hearts toward God.

Singing has always had a special place in the story of God’s people

The first song recorded in Scripture comes after the Lord delivers Israel through the Red Sea: “Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord” (Exodus 15:1). Their song was born out of rescue. Moses declared, “The Lord is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation” (Exodus 15:2). That is still why we sing. We sing because God saves, because He is faithful, and because He brings us through waters we could never cross on our own.

What is remarkable is that the song of Moses echoes all the way to the end of the Bible. In Revelation 15, the victorious people of God sing “the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb” (Revelation 15:3). From the Red Sea to the throne room of heaven, God’s people are still singing. The melody of redemption continues. The God who delivered Israel from slavery has delivered us from sin and death through Jesus Christ, the Lamb. Christian singing is not merely emotional expression; it is gospel proclamation. We sing because Christ has redeemed us, gathered us, and made us a worshiping people.

The Psalms keep that song alive for every generation. “Sing to the Lord a new song” (Psalm 96:1). “Serve the Lord with gladness; come before him with joyful songs” (Psalm 100:2). “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord” (Psalm 150:6). Singing belongs to everyone who has breath. Paul says we sing so that “the word of Christ” may dwell in us richly, teaching and encouraging one another with “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” (Colossians 3:16). Our songs carry truth, form our faith, and help the church remember God’s character, promises, holiness, mercy, and victory.

Benefits of Choir

 Choir gives us a place to belong and a way to serve. It teaches us to listen more than we speak and reminds us that no single voice carries the whole song. Sopranos, altos, tenors, and basses each bring something different, but together create harmony. That is a beautiful picture of the church, the body of Christ: many members, one body, called to glorify God and build up His people in love.

Choir also strengthens our faith. Week after week, the words we sing get planted in our hearts. Long after a sermon outline has faded from memory, a hymn or anthem can rise up in a hospital room, on a difficult morning, or in a moment of thanksgiving. Music helps Scripture settle into the soul and gives language to our joy, grief, hope, and surrender.

Choir is Worship

 When we sing, we are not filling time in a service; we are offering praise to the living God, the One who first spoke, first saved, and first called us to Himself. Worship is our grateful response to grace. We are joining Moses, Miriam, David, the saints in Revelation, and believers around the world who lift their voices to the Lord.

The 11:00 Choir is back!

The Kindness of God: When Words Point Beyond Themselves

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

“The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.”
Psalm 145:9 (NIV)

Have you ever wondered whether our words about God are big enough?

The longer we walk with Christ, the more we realize that human language struggles to describe divine reality. We speak of God as Father, Shepherd, King, Redeemer, and Friend. Scripture provides us with these images, yet none of them fully captures the mystery of who God is.

This is not a weakness of faith. It is a reminder of God’s greatness.

Why We Need Metaphors

Much of our language about God is metaphorical. We call God our Rock, yet we do not mean that He is a literal stone. We describe Him as our Shepherd, though He does not walk behind flocks carrying a staff.

These images help us understand aspects of God’s character. They are gifts that enable finite people to speak about an infinite God.

Metaphors do more than decorate language. They help us see truth. They create bridges between what we know from everyday life and what we are trying to understand about God’s nature.

The Importance of Careful Language

The words we use matter because language shapes perception.

If we reduce God to a single image or description, we risk creating a picture that is too small. Scripture itself employs a rich variety of images and descriptions because no single metaphor can contain the fullness of God.

Good theology is not merely about choosing the correct words. It is about recognizing both the power and limitations of those words.

God’s Kindness Revealed

One of the most beautiful truths in the Christian faith is that God is not distant from humanity. The biblical story reveals a God who creates, calls, redeems, forgives, and restores.

When we speak of the kindness of God, we are speaking of His gracious movement toward His creation. We see this kindness in the Incarnation, in the Cross, and in the daily mercies that sustain us.

God’s kindness is not sentimental. It is active. It reaches into broken lives and offers hope, healing, and renewal.

Humility in Theology

There is a certain humility required when talking about God.

We must speak because God has revealed Himself. Yet we must also remember that our words can never exhaust the mystery of the One we worship.

Theologians, pastors, and everyday believers share the same responsibility: to use language faithfully while remaining open to wonder.

A Final Reflection

Perhaps the goal of theological language is not to place God neatly inside our definitions but to draw us deeper into relationship with Him.

Every biblical image, every metaphor, and every doctrine ultimately points beyond itself to the living God.

And when our words fall short, His kindness remains greater than our ability to describe it.

“Now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Resource

Soskice, Janet Martin. The Kindness of God : Metaphor, Gender, and Religious Language. Oxford ; Oxford University Press, 2007.

When Worship Needs Repentance

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

A blog reflection on hollow religion, true repentance, and the mercy of God

Isaiah 1:10–18 (NIV)

10 Hear the word of the Lord, you rulers of Sodom; listen to the instruction of our God, you people of Gomorrah!
11 “The multitude of your sacrifices— what are they to me?” says the Lord. “I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats.
12 When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts?
13 Stop bringing meaningless offerings! Your incense is detestable to me. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations— I cannot bear your worthless assemblies.
14 Your New Moon feasts and your appointed festivals I hate with all my being. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them.
15 When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers, I am not listening. Your hands are full of blood!
16 Wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight; stop doing wrong.
17 Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.
18 “Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.”

The Shock of the Opening Address

The passage begins with a jolt: “Hear the word of the LORD, you rulers of Sodom; listen to the instruction of our God, you people of Gomorrah!” Isaiah is not speaking to pagan cities, but to Judah. By using Sodom and Gomorrah, he strips away false security based on covenant identity, temple worship, or religious tradition.

God Rejects Worship That Covers Injustice

The sacrifices were not inherently wrong; God had given Israel a sacrificial system. The problem was that Judah had turned worship into a substitute for repentance. They were bringing offerings while continuing in violence, oppression, and neglect of the vulnerable.

God’s language is intense: “I have more than enough,” “I have no pleasure,” “Stop bringing meaningless offerings,” “Your incense is detestable to me,” and “I hate with all my being” your appointed festivals. This is divine revulsion toward worship that has become a mask for sin.

Verse 15 gives the sharpest image: “When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you… Your hands are full of blood!” The posture of prayer cannot erase injustice. Hands lifted in worship are unacceptable when those same hands tolerate oppression.

The Call: Wash, Turn, Learn, Seek

Isaiah does not leave the people with condemnation alone. God commands them to wash, become clean, remove evil, stop doing wrong, and learn to do right. Repentance is not merely feeling sorry; it is a reorientation of life.

That reorientation is concrete: “seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” For Isaiah, authentic worship produces advocacy for those most likely to be ignored.

The Grace of Verse 18

After such a severe indictment, verse 18 is stunning: “Come now, let us settle the matter,” says the Lord. Though their sins are like scarlet, they shall be “as white as snow.” God exposes sin not to destroy the repentant, but to invite them into cleansing.

How the New Testament Echoes Isaiah 1:10–18

The New Testament carries Isaiah’s concern forward. Jesus confronts religious leaders who are careful about outward observance while neglecting “justice and mercy and faithfulness” (Matthew 23:23). He also says, “I desire mercy, and not sacrifice” (Matthew 9:13; 12:7), echoing the prophetic conviction that religious precision cannot compensate for lovelessness.

James makes the connection even more direct: “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction” (James 1:27). Isaiah commands Judah to defend the fatherless and plead the widow’s cause; James names care for the same vulnerable groups as a mark of true religion.

What This Passage Says to Us Today

Isaiah 1:10–18 warns modern readers against measuring spiritual health only by visible religious activity. Church attendance, prayer, giving, Bible study, and public ministry matter, but they cannot replace repentance, humility, justice, and mercy. Isaiah asks not only, “Do I worship?” but, “Is my worship shaping me into someone who reflects God’s compassion?”

The passage is also hopeful. God does not simply say,Go away.” He says, “Come now.” He invites stained people into cleansing, guilty people into forgiveness, and hollow worshipers into transformed obedience.

A Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, search our hearts and reveal where our worship has become outward performance without inward repentance. Wash us from sin, turn us from evil, and teach us to do what is right. Let our prayers lead to justice, our worship lead to mercy, and our faith become visible in compassion for the vulnerable. Thank you that though our sins are like scarlet, you promise to make them white as snow. Amen.

Joining the Conversation

From Theology to Thesis

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord.”
—Isaiah 1:18 (ESV)

An Unexpected Writing Lesson

One of the unexpected blessings of my work reviewing student papers at Liberty University is that I get to step into conversations I might never have joined otherwise. In a single week, I may read papers on theology, Shakespeare, police reporting, leadership, education, ministry, history, and any number of subjects in between. Whatever the topic, I find myself discussing the same three things with students: their thesis, the structure of the paper, and the clarity of their writing.

A good paper has a clear destination. A reader should be able to identify the argument, follow the organization, and understand where the writer is leading them. Because of that, I am always looking for the thesis.

So imagine my surprise as I sat working on my own doctoral homework this week. I found myself stopping in the middle of a reading assignment—not because I disagreed with the author, but because the writing was so skillfully constructed that I had to analyze it. The introduction was engaging. The conclusion was memorable. The structure was excellent. Yet something unusual was happening.

The thesis was not in the introduction. That almost never happens. As I tell my students, every paper needs a thesis. I often use what I call the Hamburger Thesis. A purpose statement simply announces a topic: “This paper will discuss hamburgers and their ingredients.” That statement tells the reader the topic, but it does not make a claim. A thesis, however, makes a claim: “Hamburgers are a popular meal because they are convenient, affordable, and customizable.” In that sentence, hamburgers are the topic, and the claim is that they are popular for their convenience, affordability, and customization. The supporting reasons become the body of the paper. In other words, a strong thesis tells readers not only what the writer is discussing, but what the writer believes about it.

That is why this week’s reading stopped me in my tracks. As someone who spends a great deal of time helping students identify thesis statements, I expected to find the author’s central claim near the beginning. Instead, he carefully led his readers through history, challenges, and observations before finally revealing the heart of his argument near the conclusion.

Pulling Up a Chair

And the metaphor was beautiful. The author described theological research as entering an ongoing conversation. I often think about what a privilege it is to sit down and join the conversation.

What conversation? The conversation that began long before us. When we open our Bibles, we enter a conversation that stretches across centuries:

Moses speaks. David sings.

Isaiah proclaims. Matthew testifies.

Paul reasons. John worships.

Then the church fathers join in.

Augustine wrestles with grace.

Luther raises difficult questions.

Calvin examines Scripture.

Countless pastors, missionaries, scholars, and faithful believers add their voices, each attempting to understand and proclaim the Word of God more clearly.

And then, somehow, by God’s grace, we are invited to pull up a chair! What an astonishing thought!

More than Information

Too often, we approach theological study as a task to complete, a class to pass, or a paper to write. We rush toward the assignment and miss the invitation. Theology is not merely collecting information. It is learning to listen carefully to those who have wrestled with Scripture before us while simultaneously listening to the voice of God through His Word.

The Apostle Paul told Timothy:

“What you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also.”
—2 Timothy 2:2

Notice the pattern. One believer speaks. Another listens. Then that believer teaches the next generation. The conversation continues.

This is discipleship.

It is also scholarship at its best.

Every meaningful theological contribution begins with humility. We do not arrive at the table as experts who have discovered something no one has ever seen. We arrive as learners. We listen. We ask questions. We read. We pray. We wrestle with the text. Then, perhaps, God allows us to offer something useful to the discussion.

A Conversation Across the Centuries

The conversation is bigger than any one denomination, professor, pastor, or student. It spans continents and centuries. It includes believers whose first language was Hebrew, Greek, Latin, German, English, Spanish, and countless others. Some of the voices are brilliant. Some are ordinary. Yet together they testify to the greatness of God.

That is why I love theological study.

Not because I expect to master every subject. Not because I have enough years left to read every book. Certainly not because I think I have all the answers.

The Hidden Thesis

By delaying his central claim until the conclusion, the author invited readers into the conversation before explaining it. Only near the end did he reveal what had been true all along: theological research is not merely about gathering information—it is about joining a discussion that began before we were born and will continue long after we are gone.

So the next time someone wonders why you spend hours reading theology, studying Scripture, writing papers, or researching a difficult biblical question, perhaps the simplest answer is this:

You are joining the conversation.

And what a blessing it is to have a seat at the table.

Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for inviting us into the great conversation of faith. Thank You for Your Word, for the generations of believers who have faithfully studied it, and for the privilege of learning from them. Give us humble hearts eager to listen, disciplined minds seeking truth, and faithful voices honoring You. Help us not to pursue knowledge for its own sake, but to know You more deeply and to serve others more faithfully. May every book we read, every paper we write, and every discussion we enter draw us closer to Jesus Christ.

May we never take for granted the opportunity to sit at the table with Your people—past and present—and learn together under the authority of Your Word. Teach us to listen well, think deeply, speak graciously, and walk humbly before You. In the name of Jesus, our Teacher, Savior, and Lord,

Amen.

Resource: Kibbe, Michael. From Topic to Thesis : A Guide to Theological Research. Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2016.

When the Rain Falls: What It Says About God—and About Us

by Dee Ann Loving-Tackitt

“For He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” —Matthew 5:45


A Simple Question That Opens a Deeper Truth

It is a simple image, yet one that carries a profound truth: rain falls without distinction. It does not pause to measure worthiness or separate the deserving from the undeserving. Instead, it nourishes everything it touches, revealing something essential about the heart of God.

The question often arises in reflection: Did it ever rain on Jesus? Scripture does not record a specific moment when raindrops fell on His shoulders, yet the land in which He lived tells its own story. First-century Palestine had cool, wet winters and hot, dry summers. Jesus walked those roads, taught among those fields, and traveled through Galilee, where storms could rise suddenly. The Gospels place Him in violent weather—winds crashing and waves surging—reminding us that the One who calmed the storm first stepped into it (Mark 4:37–39).

Because Jesus fully entered human experience, it is not difficult to imagine Him beneath darkened skies during the rainy season. This deepens Hebrews 4:15, which reminds believers that Christ sympathizes with human weakness because He lived within it. Even ordinary realities, including changing weather, were not foreign to Him.

Rain and the Sovereignty of God

Yet in Scripture, rain is never merely weather. It reveals God’s character and His relationship with His people. Throughout the Old Testament, rain belongs to the Lord alone. While surrounding nations credited fertility gods such as Baal with precipitation, Israel understood that rain came from Yahweh. Jeremiah 14:22 declares that no false god can bring rain, but only the Lord who created the heavens.

Rain as Blessing and Covenant Care

Rain also functions as a sign of covenant blessing. In Leviticus 26:4, God promises “rains in their season,” so the land would yield produce. Israel depended on early rains that softened the soil and later rains that matured crops. Regular rain testified not only to provision but to God’s faithful care, echoing Psalm 65:9–10, where He waters and enriches the earth.

When the Heavens Close: Rain and Judgment

Conversely, the absence of rain carried powerful meaning. Deuteronomy 11:17 warns that disobedience could cause the heavens to be “shut up,” leaving the land dry. Drought became a sign of spiritual fracture and a reminder that life depends on the One who gives it.

Rain as the Word That Brings Life

Scripture deepens the image by comparing rain to God’s Word. Isaiah 55:10–11 describes rain and snow falling from heaven, watering the earth, and causing it to bring forth life. In the same way, God’s Word never returns empty but accomplishes what He intends, nurturing growth that may not be immediately visible but is always purposeful.

Jesus and the Rain of Common Grace

When Jesus speaks of rain in the Sermon on the Mount, He draws on these layers of meaning and expands them. By teaching that God “sends rain on the just and on the unjust,” Jesus reveals common grace—a generosity that flows to all people regardless of merit.

This does not diminish saving grace or erase the call to faith. Instead, it shows that some of God’s gifts are given freely, not as rewards but as expressions of His nature. The rain that falls on every field reminds us that God’s goodness cannot be confined to human measurements of worthiness.

The One Who Sends Rain… Walked Beneath It

In this light, the simple question about rain takes on greater significance. Whether or not a Gospel writer recorded the moment, Jesus lived beneath the same sky that gives sunshine and rain. The One who created the seasons walked within them, and the One who sends rain embodied that generosity in His life and ministry.

For believers, this reframes the experience of rain. At times, rain may feel like blessing, refreshing the soul and bringing renewal. At other times, it may feel like difficulty, a season where clarity is hidden behind heavy clouds. Yet Scripture invites trust: full clouds eventually pour themselves out upon the earth, turning what appears heavy into something life-giving.

Because of Christ, no moment within that experience is empty of meaning. Emmanuel—God with us—has stepped into every condition of human life, both calm and storm. His presence assures us that nothing we encounter is outside His care.

A Closing Reflection: Standing in the Rain

Rain, then, becomes more than a natural occurrence. It becomes a testimony of God’s sovereignty, provision, discipline, Word, and grace, revealing a goodness that extends beyond human expectations.

And within that truth is a quiet invitation: to trust that, whether standing in sunlight or beneath falling rain, one is held within the care of the God who sends it—and the Savior who once walked beneath it.

Following King Jesus, step by step, in prayer.