Faith

Not died. Dying. The Great Commission was a command, not a suggestion. The market-captured megachurch model replaced proclamation with performance. We diluted the message until it became just another lifestyle option.

A man found naked behind a Burger King with no memory of who he is raises a question nobody is asking: how does a person disappear so completely from community that no one comes looking? The answer is uncomfortable.

Pew's spring report on church attendance shows another quiet year of decline. The numbers are smaller this year than last. The deeper story is what the people who stayed are doing.

Pew's longitudinal data on faith transmission across generations tracks a pattern that scripture itself warned about. The pattern is not new. The work to interrupt it is the work in front of every Christian family.

AI systems are engineered to replace what faith once provided: comfort, answers, and the sense of being heard. Christians who can't name functional idolatry when it ships with a product launch are making the same mistake as Israel at the foot of Sinai.

Kathie Lee Gifford says God made her famous so she could be bold about Jesus. That's a coherent theology of purpose, and a rebuke to every celebrity Christian who retreats into vague spirituality the moment a camera gets pointed at them.

Silicon Valley's AI industry is building systems it openly describes as god-like in capability and redemptive in purpose. Christians cannot stay silent while a new golden calf is assembled in server farms, funded by venture capital, and worshipped by the tech elite.

Kathie Lee Gifford says God made her famous specifically to be bold about Jesus, not as a decorative sentiment but as a doctrinal conviction held publicly for 40 years in entertainment. After real loss and no career left to protect, she's the kind of witness that can't be dism...

In an industry that celebrates every identity except sincere Christian faith, Kathie Lee Gifford walked back onto television and said God made her famous to be bold about Jesus. Without apology.

Pope Leo's first Easter as pontiff called for hope amid war and division. Some will dismiss it as naive. They're missing the entire argument.

Google searches spike every year. Churches fill. Families gather. And our institutions act like none of it is happening.

When a folk singer becomes the progressive movement's choir director, the music stops being music and starts being a sermon nobody asked for.

The crowd that waved palms on Sunday called for crucifixion by Friday. The lesson for the church isn't about popularity, it's about faithfulness when the crowd turns.

Fewer women are traveling for abortions because more are getting pills in the mail. The medical system calls this innovation. People of faith see something else entirely.

Somewhere out there, Nancy Guthrie's family is still fighting for answers. When families refuse to quit, the least the rest of us can do is listen.

Declining attendance isn't a demand problem. It's a supply problem, of courage, conviction, and willingness to preach the whole Word without apology.

When a man kneels to pray in an end zone, the world mocks him. When he stands before Congress to defend children, he deserves to be heard.

When Silicon Valley promises AI will solve death, cure disease, and end human suffering, they're not making a tech pitch. They're making a theological claim. And they're wrong.