Opinion
Kanye West draws upon the storied history of black communal worship and gospel music.
And yet, despite these positive global examples, our situation in the United States is not unique. There are autocratic would-be strong men all over the world. They're rising, and none of them are known to practice servant leadership. They’re known as corrupt. They’re known as unprincipled. They’re known as perpetual liars. They’re known as people who are serving themselves, people who are serving their own wealth and power, but not serving those around them. And while we are in a time where this authoritarian style is on the rise, it’s as old as humanity itself.
Jim Wallis, in conversation with William Matthews and Allison Trowbridge, explores the themes of Chapter Five, “The Power Question” from his new book Christ in Crisis: Why We Need to Reclaim Jesus.
It's impossible to use the language of lynching without calling to mind horrors like those visited upon George Taylor.
I have the right degrees from the right institution and I hold the right theological positions. I’m an inerrantist, I hold to the Baptist Faith and Message 2000, and I am gravely concerned that our history of political maneuvering has cloaked a love for power in the language of right theology.

Image via Flickr/Ecco Homo
Autocrats and strongmen all over the world attack the free press and the idea of objective truth because they want you only to be able to listen to their truth. As Trump always puts it, “Believe me.” It's a way of governing that holds people captive because they depend on the strongman to tell them what the truth is. So when you take away the truth, you are purposely trying to take away people’s freedom.
Julián Castro recently announced policy to end state-sponsored discrimination against LGBTQ families.
Jim Wallis, in conversation with William Matthews and Allison Trowbridge, explores the themes of Chapter Four, “The Truth Question” from his new book Christ in Crisis: Why We Need to Reclaim Jesus.
The message we’re sending to people in power is possibly not the Gospel message.
This challenge to dismantle white supremacy and build a beloved community is one that white Christians need to undertake for the sake of their own obedience to God. Those of us who are white need to realize that this challenge and calling isn't for other people. It isn't for people of color who white people need to help.
The Bay Area will be without electricity for at least a day and a half in order to prevent power lines from sparking wildfires.
Our greatest prophets took the time to ask that question often, and we can follow in their footsteps.
As people of faith, our blood should boil when we hear people try to say our God is for marriage segregation.
Most everyone I grew up with near Goodman Street in northeast Rochester attended Corpus Christi. A post-Vatican II parish complete with folk group and food pantry to help a neighborhood of mostly single mothers, the church was a rare source of sustenance and light. Still, by the time we hit our twenties, most of us had escaped the urban neighborhood and along with it, left the church. I returned a few years ago — first for Christmas Mass, then to interview a parishioner for a story, and then for no good reason at all. This unmoored me. Even as I sang the Psalm, I surveyed the rows of empty pews.
How do we maintain hope when our earth is brutalized daily by the climate disasters brought on by human greed, denial, and consumption?
It’s a tragic fact that 75 percent of white Americans have no people of color in their social circles outside of work. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s observation that 11 o’clock on Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week is still largely true. And if you’re only in a world that looks like you, then you aren’t going to understand Jesus’ answer to the question “And who is my neighbor?”