10 years ago, my family and I said goodbye to our lives in Canada and arrived at our first apartment in Tennessee. I’d accepted a job with a Christian publishing organization, successfully made it through the visa process, and was ready to start this new mission that I felt God had called me to.

Growing up in Canada, I knew as much about the United States as anyone who consumes a steady diet of America’s exported pop culture can. So a lot and nothing at all. After all, there’s a lot that you can’t know until you’ve spent a significant amount of time here. And this is doubly true of the South where animosities run deep, and you don’t know what you might have stepped in until it’s too late.

This is the place the Lord brought us, and I’m grateful for it in so many ways. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that, despite the thin veneer of Christianity that haunts the South, it is, in some ways, even harder to live faithfully than in the post-Christian land of my birth ten years ago.

Here’s what I mean by that: Little by little, the United States has become something other than what it was meant to be. It became a country that has lost its moorings, one that could no longer recognize the ideals that make it great: of freedom and opportunity for all people. Rich and poor. Young and old. Of any and every ethnicity. Where everyone’s self-evident equality is known and respected, and the inalienable rights endowed by our Creator—the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness—are recognized by all. Instead, we’re living in a moment where dehumanizing others has become mainstream. Those who once represented the outermost fringes of their sides of the religious and political spectrums were moving toward the center. And too many professing evangelical Christians moved with them.

The symptoms of the larger problem

It’s easy—tempting—to blame all this on the first Trump presidency. But that wasn’t the beginning—it was only an accelerant. Trump is a symptom of the problem, not the cause. We’ve already been isolated into ideological camps by algorithms for years. The President’s “us vs them” language tailor made for those algorithms. That isolation only increased with the COVID pandemic. And after a contested election led toan attempted insurrection, we never really found a way back to unity. Instead, we were met with the progressive virtue-signaling of the early days of the Biden administration, followed by the chaos and outrightcorruption of the second Trump administration.

I genuinely never thought I would ever see people publicly advocating for the repeal of the 19th amendment to the constitution (which recognizes women as having the right to vote). Or a case seeking to essentially strike down the 14th (birthright citizenship) making it to the Supreme Court. I never expected to see immigrants, migrants, and asylum seekers demonized, arrested at USCIS appointments and court hearings, and denied due process. (A constitutionally protected right for all people in the United States, regardless of citizenship or immigration status, by the way). Or that a convicted felon found liable of sexual assault with deep ties to the largest scale human trafficker and p*dophile, would hold the nation’s highest office, not once but twice. Or that so-called “Christian influencers” would flirt with and or embrace Nazi ideology and receive little pushback.

If you had said many evangelicals would not even blink at any of these, I don’t know that I would have believed you.

Yet, here we are.

The damage of dehumanizing others

Some mgiht write this off because I invoked the President’s name and his many disqualifying traits. But, again, he is a symptom of the deep problems in this nation I now call home, not the cause. And these problems go far beyond our simplistic and ineffectual “right vs left” debates. Because as much as it affects our political views, it is not a mere political issue. The problem is that we’ve lost our understanding of what it means to be human. We struggle to every man, woman, and child as God’s image bearer (Gen. 1:26–27). As people made with dignity, value, and worth that is theirs by virtue of being made like their Creator. And we desperately need to recover this.

At the heart of every debate we have in this nation, you’ll find this question: How do we see others—and ourselves? Are they first and foremost human beings, fearfully and wonderfully made as representatives of their Creator in creation (Psalm 139:14)? Calling immigrants and migrants “illegals,” burdens, and drains on society is to say they are something less than human. The same is true of labelling political and social liberals as “Demoncrats” or “libtards,” and calling political and social conservatives “transphobes,” “homophobes,” “Nazis,” or “Christian Nationalists.”

When we treat people as “other,” we don’t simply diminish them—we harm ourselves. We lose our ability to empathize, to grow, and to influence.

We must re-embrace humanity’s worth

And this is what the last decade has convinced me we need to recapture. It is what I see as the most significant need in this nation. It is the most significant opportunity for all of us who are Christians in the United States. We need to recapture, re-embrace, and defend the essential value of all people, at all time, in all places. To believe in our hearts what we affirm with our mouths.

And this why I still feel compelled to be here. It’s one of the main reasons I ultimately chose to become a citizen of this nation. As an immigrant, I know the realities we face coming here and establishing a new life. As a Christian, I have a duty to defend the dignity of all people, regardless of their beliefs. And as a naturalized citizen, I have the opportunity to use my voice to make this nation a better place for all people. To do my part in reminding this nation of what actually makes it great. Because this is how I can love the Lord—by loving my neighbor. And I’m going to keep doing that here until the Lord calls me elsewhere, or until the end of my days.

Photo by John Warg on Unsplash

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

Okay, I admit it: It’s a bit of a strange time to be recommending different books for people to read when it turns out Americans have stopped reading. But this is the world in which we live. And, also, I love books because they’re awesome. Chances are I’m preaching to the choir here, but just think about the benefits:

• Reading reduces stress and encourages cognitive development
• It helps us sleep, increases empathy (which we need more of)
• Reading improves our communication skills
• And reading might even help us live longer

So yeah, reading is awesome.

Even though the summer break is about half done here in the South (I know), there are still plenty of opportunities for downtime, whether with a long weekend or a leisurely Saturday afternoon. With that in mind, here are a handful of “lighter” books that I would recommend reading in whatever downtime you have to enjoy.

The Teacher of Nomad Land: A World War II Story by Daniel Nayeri

Set in 1941, this is the story of two Iranian orphans making a journey to join a nomadic tribe on its annual trek to the mountains. With their father’s chalkboard and a satchel of textbooks, Babak, hopes to prove his usefulness to the group as a teacher. Along the way they meet a young Jewish boy, with a Nazi spy in pursuit. This is a terrific read for both you and your entire family—highly recommended.

The Greatest Sentence Ever Written by Walter Isaacson

This book is a deep dive into the first sentence of the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” Word by word, Isaacson reminds readers of just how radical the values at the heart of this statement were at the time of their writing—the values that underpin the concept of “America”—and how they continue to be revolutionary today.

Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow by Tom King and Bilquis Evely

The inspiration for the recent Supergirl film, this book is also heavily inspired by the Charles Portis novel True Grit, along with its own film adaptations. Tom King does a masterful job of using its basic set up—a reluctant hero and companion embarking on a quest to hunt down a killer—in order to explore the psychological weight Kara Zor El carries. And Bilquis (pronounced Bilks) Evely’s art is breathtaking. Well worth your time.

You Have a Calling: Finding Your Vocation in the True, Good, and Beautiful by Karen Swallow Prior

Many of us think about calling extremely narrowly. In Christian circles, “calling” usually is only ever discussed in the context of pastoral ministry. Outside of that context, we might use the word in relation to our jobs. But Prior encourages us to think about calling in the sense of how we are to live in light of what is good, beautiful, and true, and out of love for God and neighbor.

These are just a few of the books I could recommend. I could even suggest a few headier ones (like Flood and Fury by Matthew J. Lynch, but I’ll save that for another time). But honestly, because I’ve been doing so much reading for school and writing projects, I’ve also needed some “lighter” material for myself. So, if you’re looking for a few meaningful reads you can finish relatively quickly, these are the ones I’d recommend.

Photo by Christin Hume on Unsplash

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

I don’t want to be internet famous. But I know how to do it. It’s easy:

1. Play to an algorithm.
2. See step 1.
3. Repeat.

If you think I’m oversimplifying, I’m really not. This is what it takes. More than anything else, you have to pay attention to what the algorithm on your chosen platform rewards—what incites engagement—and act accordingly. And what does it reward most consistently? Anger. Rage. Hostility. These things the Bible calls “works of the flesh” (Gal. 5:19–21).

Anger, especially, moves fast. It is a high arousal emotion that immediately triggers our flight or flight responses. So if we want to be famous, all it takes is pulling that trigger.

The Allure of Fleeting Fame

Anyone can do it. Even you. Even me. And many people do. There are people that you’ve only ever heard of—literally the only reason—is because they play to the algorithm. Some have built massive online platforms, podcasts, and social followings. Others have mega-selling books. They got what they wanted. Or what they think they wanted.

But here’s the problem: You have to keep feeding the beast. As the saying goes, what you win people with is what you win them to. And if anger is what won you an audience, that’s what you need to keep offering. So you might start with genuine righteous indignation about a particular issue, but over time, it becomes performative. It turns to manufacturing controversy. (Which is also why you see so many pastors saying foolish things on the internet for clicks.) And eventually, inevitably, the audience you build will turn on you.

The allure of fame, of making a name for ourselves, is nothing new. It’s a tale as Babel (Gen. 11). We know how it worked out for the tower builders. And we know how it’s worked out for every other builder since. Yet we keep trying. We keep thinking that, just maybe, it’ll be different for us.

But it never is. In the long run, it lets us down.

Why Do We Think Too Small?

Unsurprisingly, Jesus had something to say about this. Near the end of his incarnate ministry, he told his disciples:

If anyone desires to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul? For the Son of Man will come in the glory of his Father with his angels, and then he will reward each according to his works. Assuredly, I say to you, there are some standing here who shall not taste death till they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom (Matt. 16:24–28 NKJV).

Many people struggle with these words. After all, it sounds like what Jesus is saying is that what we want doesn’t matter at all. Our desires, hopes, and dreams in life don’t matter. But this isn’t exactly what’s happening. Remember, this occurred immediately after Jesus predicted his death and resurrection. And Peter, being Peter, of course rebuked Jesus for it. “Far be it from you, Lord; this shall not happen to you,” he said (Matt. 16:22). Peter and the other disciples did not understand that the Messiah—the long-awaited king of Israel—would die. They assumed, as so many did, that the Messiah would be a conqueror who would rule over an earthly kingdom. And when he came into his glory, they would come into theirs too.

To this, Jesus said, they were thinking too small. Jesus was and is a king, without question. But the path to his kingdom was through self-sacrifice, not self-preservation. And those who follow after Christ must know that doing so comes with a cost. Sometimes those costs are substantial. Others, the cost is discreet, something only we might be aware of. But it’s always there.

What Does it Profit to Court the Algorithm?

Which brings us back to the matter at hand: Internet notoriety and the questions at the heart of Jesus’ rebuke of his disciples: “For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?”

These questions challenge us to look at what we’re doing and consider the benefit and the cost. What does it profit to court the algorithm? What will a person give to be “famous,” even if it’s only for a moment?

I’m concerned too many of us are too willing to give up our character and integrity for something that really doesn’t matter. To act in ways that are contrary to the fruit of the Spirit—to be short on love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22–23). And for what? For likes and clicks and comments. And I write this as someone who feels the temptation toward taking the easy path toward building a following. (After all, I am a writer, and writers need engaged and invested audiences.) But do I want to build an audience in a way that violates my conscience and character? Not even a little.

For me, the cost is too great, and the “reward” is too small. Better to be faithful and overlooked by the algorithm. To do what’s right and trust God to bring about the fruit at the right time, according to his purposes. Because that’s what really matters.

Photo by Prateek Katyal on Unsplash

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

Father’s Day comes with complicated feelings for many of us. Usually, this is because of our relationships with our own fathers. We didn’t have the kind of dad we needed, he was a danger to us, or he wasn’t in our lives at all. So Father’s Day can be a reminder of the pain that exists because of broken relationships and sins committed against us.

And for many of us in the church, Father’s Day hurts for another reason: shame.

The Comparison Game We All Play

You try not play the comparison game, but you can’t help it. You look at families in your congregation, where all the teens are sitting with their parents and listening and singing. Social media reminds us of how blessed some dads feel. But your kids, despite your best efforts, don’t follow Jesus. Maybe your spouse has walked away from the Lord, or, perhaps, from you. You sit alone, with Fathers Day does reminding you that you are a failure.

But are you? I’m not so sure.

See, the older I get, and as my children get closer to living on their own, the more I am tempted to feel like a failure. I experience the unwanted moments of jealousy, the loneliness on certain Sundays, all of it. Even though I know that appearances only tell a part of a story, it’s hard not to. After all, right now, only one of my kids has openly chosen to follow Christ. One is open about not being a Christian (though she is not rude or disrespectful in her disagreement, which I appreciate). The other is… well, it’s hard to say with that child. But it’s where we are.

We did all the things we were “supposed” to do as parents. I did my best to teach them about Jesus and to model what it means to follow him as best as I’m able. And of course there are so many ways I could have done things differently with our kids. I know I have fallen short of my own expectations, and where I’ve let my kids down. So when I look around, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve failed—to see myself as a failure.

Why We See Ourselves as Failures

But failing and being a failure are different things. Here’s the thing: To say, “I’m a failure,” is to take on a responsibility that does not belong to us. We are prone to see ourselves as responsible for kids’ salvation. So we read Proverbs 22:6—”Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it” (NKJV)—as a command rather than wisdom. We look at Ephesians 6:4 and Deuteronomy 6:6-7’s commands to teach our children diligently, to teach and admonish them in the ways of the Lord, and forget that they say little about our children’s response.

We look at these and see ourselves as responsible for the results.

The Hard Work of Trusting the Lord With Our Kids

But that responsibility is not ours. We are responsible for our faithfulness, our teaching and modeling what it means to follow Jesus to our families. That’s it. Everything else ultimately belongs to the Lord. Why? Because our children are people. They are not extensions of ourselves, but distinct individuals with their own thoughts, feelings, and struggles. Their lives are a story that we play a role in, but we are not the main characters.

This might be the hardest part of parenting: Knowing all the ways we have fallen short, but trusting the Lord to do what only he can do. That, at the right time, the Holy Spirit will move, and our children will see their need for Christ. That, at the right time, they will believe, no matter how long it takes or what they have to experience to get there.

You and I are not responsible for making our kids Christian. That is a power that does not belong to us. And when we try to take that responsibility upon ourselves, we can’t not feel like failures.

But that is not who we are. Our children’s fate belongs to the Lord, and we can trust that—and them—to him.

You are not a failure.

Neither am I.

Photo by Road Ahead on Unsplash

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

As each year goes on, I try to take an opportunity to assess my ministry plans in light of present reality. And this is iimportant because, over the last two plus years, my ministry plans have turned out to be more aspirations or wishes. My desires and reality haven’t lined up, and the efforts I made didn’t change that.

Which means, clearly, the Lord had other plans. And that’s okay.

With 2026 nearing its halfway point, I have a few important tasks ahead of me from a ministry perspective, which I pray will lead to more opportunities to serve the broader church.

Will teach and travel (for any who will have me)

Since Refuge Church ended at the end of 2024, I’ve been largely out of the pulpit. I want to change that. One way I’m doing that is by reaching out to churches in my area to meet with pastors and see how I might be able to serve. But that’s not the only way. I’m also speaking at two conferences this fall, which I’m thrilled about. (More details to come.)

I want to be doing more of this through the rest of the year. And this is not something I say lightly because I know how serious a responsibility it is. But if you’d like to help with this, here’s what I would ask:

1. Connect me with a pastor you know (bonus points if they’re in the Nashville area)
2. If you are a pastor and would like to talk about how I might be able to serve your congregation, let’s talk
3. Pray that the Lord would bring the right opportunities at the right time

One book in need of readers (and another in need of a publisher)

In my brief reflection on the one-year anniversary of Faith Simplified‘s release, I shared that sales haven’t been quite what we hoped. That’s just one of the unpleasant realities of publishing in 2026. My publisher believes in the book. Those who have read it largely seem to love it. But it could use more of them.

Also, back in January, I finished writing a book that my agent(s) and I have been pitching. This book is a careful exploration of a not-at-all controversial subject in our day: immigration. This book is deeply biblical, compassionate, and very honest about what it’s really like to be an immigrant—even an invisible one like me. (Expect to see more articles on the subject here in the very near future.)

So here’s what I would ask by way of your support:

1. If you’ve not already read Faith Simplified, please order a copy.
2. If you have read it, please review it. I would love to see it reach 50 Amazon reviews before the summer is through.
3. Please pray that this next book would find the right home soon.

Working toward a masters’ degree

The final thing I will note for now is that I am roughly halfway through my program with Redemption Seminary. This program (Masters in Biblical Studies) has been one of the most life-giving things I’ve done in recent years. I’m what some would call a doxological researcher. Few things delight my heart more than learning—wrestling with a tough bit of theology or exploring a big idea. Continuing my education, as much as it is work, is an act of worship. So here’s what I would ask:

1. Pray that it would continue to be fruitful
2. Pray that I would have all the stamina I need, especially given that I also have a full time job, want to engage with my family, and serve my church (and all the other things too)

As always, thank you for all your support in all of these endeavors. I don’t take it lightly that people choose to support the work I do. Your reading, sharing, commenting, and prayers mean a great deal.

Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

One year (and a couple of days) ago, my most recent book, Faith Simplified, was released. This book introduces new Christians and those curious about what we believe a look into the truths at the heart of our faith. This book isn’t a systematic theology textbook or an apologetics handbook. It’s an invitation to explore what we believe alongside someone who knows what it’s like to be new to the faith.¹ To know what we believe and why it matters so much.

Releasing a book is never easy

Releasing a book is never easy. And this one hit in the middle of a tumultuous time in our home (the details of which are not really mine to share, despite it all affecting me—but if y’all can be praying for our household, I’d appreciate it). But the Lord was kind, and gave me the time and energy I needed to focus on doing what I could. There are a number of things that didn’t go the way that I expected, or, frankly, hoped. And, realistically, the sales have not been what any of us hoped, which is disappointing, but also the difficulty we face in publishing today.²

The response is encouraging

But, like I said, the Lord has been kind through it all. Sales aside, the response to the book from readers confirmed that it is a needed resource, especially for those new to the faith or curious about about what Christians believe:

• Several people have described it as being accessible and down-to-earth, yet meaty.
• They find its stories engaging and love that it’s exploring these big truths in a way that anyone can understand.
• One even described it as feeling like “the wisdom of a big brother.”

But it’s not just individuals who are reading this book. I know of at least two churches that are using it in their ministries—one as part of their youth ministry, and another as a churchwide summer reading program. I’ve also personally led two online discussion groups around the book. And this is exactly what I’d hoped would happen.

May their tribe increase in the year ahead.

Thank you for supporting this book—and my hope for its future

I am so grateful to the team at Harvest House Publishers for believing in this book enough to give it a chance. I’m also grateful to Jenaye Merida, who has served as my literary agent for the last several years, for her efforts and encouragement in finding creative ways to put this book in the hands of people.

Thank you to each of you who has supported this book by purchasing a copy, sharing it with others, and leaving reviews. I know that subscribers (and social followers) probably get a little tired of authors talking about how important this is, but still. Truly, it means more than you know.

As this book enters its second year, I’m excited to see how the Lord will continue to use Faith Simplified. My hope is that even more people will explore the truths at the heart of our faith through this book. That more churches will introduce this resource to their communities. And as they do, I pray what they read will fuel their love for God and others.

And if you haven’t gotten your copy yet, I hope you will be one of them.

1. And it’s great for longtime believers looking to take a fresh look at these truths as well. ︎
2. Remember, 90% of books sell fewer than 2,000 copies over their lifetime. As someone who has worked in publishing for a decade now, I have many thoughts as to why that might be, as you can imagine. ︎

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

I’ve recently started writing for my friends over at Gospel Centered Discipleship, which focuses on cultivating writers and resources that make, mature, and multiply disciples of Jesus. My latest contribution is all about overcoming the mindset that trips us up as we seek to make disciples. Here’s how it begins:

Don’t freak out. 

That’s what I wish someone had told me when I was a new Christian and was first realizing that every believer’s role in making disciples also meant I had a role in making disciples. It’s not like this was a big secret, of course. After all, Jesus commanded his followers to teach others to “observe all things” he had commanded (Matt. 28:20 NKJV)—to make disciples. But when it hit home, it just felt like a lot. I didn’t know where to start. And what could a new believer like me offer others anyway? I didn’t know the first thing about the end times or election. I couldn’t tell you the difference between Arminians and Armenians.

Then it happened—a younger man asked me if I’d be willing to disciple him. Did I feel equipped or qualified? No. But I was willing to give it a shot. At that point, I was mostly familiar with Christians reading and discussing books together. So, that’s where I started. The problem was this guy wasn’t much of a reader. We tried talking through our progress in basic spiritual disciplines. That was a struggle too. We liked hanging out, and when we talked about Star Wars and pop music, conversation flowed easily. But the “discipleship” side of our relationship didn’t seem to be happening, at least as far as I could tell. I was frustrated, not with this younger man, but with myself. What was I doing wrong?

Why Does Discipleship Feel Difficult?

According to a 2022 study, 37 percent of American Christians don’t feel equipped or qualified to make disciples. Why? I suspect it’s because we’ve reduced our understanding of discipleship to structured education and obeying biblical commands. 

In the first case, making disciples becomes teaching a Bible study, seminar, or Sunday School class. These are all good things, and I’m thankful for all the resources that exist to support them. But if we haven’t shown aptitude for formal teaching, it’s natural that we feel unqualified or ill-equipped. 

In the second case, a caveat is required: Jesus does command us to teach people to obey his commands. Obedience to Christ isn’t optional. But we can focus on it to such a degree that if we struggle in any area of obedience—if we’re painfully aware of how prone our hearts are to wander—we consider ourselves unqualified to encourage others to pursue holy lives. 

Start With—and From—the Heart

This was my problem: I was looking at discipleship from the wrong perspective. It hadn’t yet clicked that discipleship is more than education and obedience to biblical commands. Discipleship is a matter of the heart. It is about helping others love Who and what we love; learning to delight in the God who delights in us (Zeph. 3:17) as we become like Jesus from one degree of glory to another (2 Cor. 3:18). We want to help people not just know about Jesus but to abide in him (John 15:4). We want them to be deeply connected to the One who is our life (Col. 3:4). To be satisfied with him as we would be with the finest of foods (Ps. 63:5). This means discipleship starts with the heart—specifically, ours as disciple makers. 

Keep reading at Gospel Centered Discipleship.

Photo via Deposit Photos

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

On Saturday, April 11th, I spent the day at Plenty, an independent bookshop in Cookeville, Tennessee, where I talked about Faith Simplified with customers. It was a good experience, especially because it gave me the chance to introduce this book to people entirely unfamiliar with it. Some even bought copies.

It was a long day. Cookeville is a nearly two hour drive from my home. I didn’t sell through all the books I brought. (But, to be fair, I brought a case.) But that’s okay. I didn’t expect to. I didn’t have a specific target, or a return on investment I was looking to achieve. My goal was to introduce my book to people to people entirely unfamiliar with it—and with me.

That’s what you do when you’re an author.

De-romanticizing the Author Life

Over the last several decades, we’ve been sold a romanticized vision of what it means to be an author. It’s all about the art—the work of writing, and the procrastinating we all do to avoid actually doing it. We might also have images of glitzy readings, bestseller lists, press tours with national TV interviews, and maybe even multi-city tours dancing through our heads like sugarplums.

And there’s some truth to all of this. Press is part of the gig (and publicists work hard making it all happen). In-store events can happen, even if you’re usually the one doing the work of setting it up. And while I have no idea what’s involved in these multi-city tours I see some folks pulling off, if someone wants to help me figure it out, I’m down.

But the glitzy side of it is less the norm than we realize. And writing is maybe a third of an author’s work. The rest is helping people discover your work. It’s selling the book. Which makes most of us cringe. The idea of marketing or selling our books, for some reason, feels dirty. Inauthentic. And it can be—if we do it inauthentically. If we think we have to do things that are inauthentic, that clash with our personalities and convictions, then we’re doing it wrong. Marketing our books also isn’t something that requires us to have a background in the marketing field. It’s all about talking about this work that we’ve invested our time and hearts into in a way that reflects our hearts.

Connection is the Point

This is what I’ve tried to do with every book I’ve written so far—in a way that invites people into a conversation. It’s a vulnerable kind of work, because it can make rejection, which includes someone not buying your book, feel personal (even if it’s not). The risk doesn’t always feel worth it, especially when we don’t see things turn out the way we expected or hoped. When we do all the things we’re asked, we try all kinds of ideas, and be ourselves, and… nothing. Social media engagement is virtually non-existent. Sales aren’t what we’d hoped. Instead of selling hundreds the first week, we sell tens, and every copy thereafter seems hard won.

But just because we can’t see what’s happening doesn’t mean nothing is. And when there’s so much noise on the internet, and we’re prone to be terminally online, we can mistake social media for reality. That’s where the hard work comes in: Sending emails. Making phone calls (ugh). Arranging talks and in-store meet-and-greets and book clubs everywhere you can. Driving sometimes two or three hours to sell a handful of copies of your book, and celebrating every single one. Why? Because you are making human connections. Talking to real people. That’s who we write for; that’s whose lives we’re trying to affect in some way with our words. People.

I’ve got another book event on April 26th in Franklin, Tennessee, this time during its annual Main Street Festival. It’s going to be another long day. I’ll probably bring more copies of Faith Simplified than I’ll need. I have no idea how many I’ll sell. But that’s okay. As long as I can talk to some real people, if I can invite them into a conversation through this book, it’s worth it.

But if you’re in the area, I hope I’ll see you there.

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

To be a Christian is to embrace some pretty challenging beliefs. And I’m not just talking about the nature of God, or that Jesus is both human and divine. There’s one belief that we hold that is especially difficult, but one upon which our entire faith stands or falls:

The resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

But why does the resurrection matter so much? Simply because with out the resurrection, Christianity isn’t worth believing.

Where did the belief in a resurrection come from?

The belief in a resurrection from the dead for God’s people is one that developed over time as God gradually revealed throughout the Old Testament. By the time of Jesus, it was generally accepted that, on the Day of the Lord, the dead would rise, some to everlasting life and others to everlasting judgment.

But when it came to the Messiah, the long-awaited Rescuer of God’s people, the idea that he would have to die to rescue his people was unheard of. The Messiah was a king, the Son of David, who would lead them to victory. So when the Messiah actually showed up, they didn’t recognize him. He more closely resembled the suffering servant of Isaiah 53 than a conqueror.

Jesus was a humble man about whom there was seemingly nothing special, at least as far as outward appearances were concerned. And he kept talking about how he was going to be “handed over to the Gentiles; he will be mocked, mistreated, and spat on. They will flog him severely and kill him.”

But death wouldn’t be the end. Instead, he said, “on the third day he will rise again.”

Jesus’ followers didn’t understand what he was talking about. Even the teachers of the Law, those who were supposed experts in the Scriptures, didn’t seem to get it either. But this is what happened during the Passover all those centuries ago: Jesus was arrested. He was mocked and beaten. He was crucified. And he was dead, and his tomb was sealed.

The first witnesses on the first Easter Sunday

But on the first day of the week following his death—the third day—the tomb was found empty (Matthew 28:1-10; Mark 16:1-8; Luke 24:1-12; John 20:1-9). Jesus’ body was gone.

A group of women—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and Salome—were the first to find the tomb empty. An angel spoke to them asking, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?” before issuing the command: “Go and tell his disciples.”

And tell them, they did. In fact, Mary Magdalene was likely the very first to see the risen Jesus alive in the flesh. But she wasn’t alone in seeing him. Hundreds more saw Jesus after his resurrection. Many of them were still alive when Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, roughly 30 years after the events of that day.

Doubts about the resurrection

But even so, that didn’t stop alternate explanations for the empty tomb from springing up. Perhaps Jesus’ disciples—a ragtag group of fishermen and social outcasts—had overpowered the trained guards who stood watch over the tomb. Maybe people were so overcome by grief that they had a mass hallucination—something that defies the extremely private nature of hallucinations. Or maybe Jesus wasn’t really dead, but only very badly injured.

Despite all of these alternatives stretching credulity to its breaking point, they still circulate today. But what if the best explanation is the simplest—that Jesus really did rise from the dead?

Why does the resurrection matter?

Because here’s the thing: if Jesus didn’t rise from the dead, then Christianity has nothing to offer. It is worthless, and everyone who believes the gospel is a blasphemer. And if you think I’m overstating, that’s actually what the Bible itself says in 1 Corinthians 15:14-19.

The reason Paul was so emphatic on this point is that he and the other Apostles knew that Jesus’ death was the atoning sacrifice needed to pay for our sins (1 John 4:10). And more than that, his resurrection was the proof that he actually did it: that he saves “completely those who come to God through him” because he is alive (Hebrews 7:25 NET).

So is this hard to believe? Absolutely. It’s a miracle, after all—the power of God breaking into the world in a profound way. But as you continue to explore this truth for yourself, I hope that you will see how important it is.

Because Jesus is alive, sin no longer has the last word. Because Jesus is alive, death has no sting (1 Corinthians 15:55). And because Jesus is alive, all who believe are alive in him.

This article features a companion video for my book, Faith Simplified: What We Believe and Why We Believe It. To learn more about the book, or order your copy, visit faithsimplifiedbook.com.

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.

What is God like? Everyone has an opinion about him—not just who and what he is, but thoughts about his character. But what are we basing our opinions on? Before I believed in him, my barely existing opinion was based more on pop culture and (usually negative) news stories about people claiming to follow him than on any kind of experience. So what little opinion I had wasn’t all that positive.

Maybe you’re like I was and haven’t given it much thought. Or maybe you’re someone who has had some terrible and tragic experiences that have led you to believe that he must be pretty terrible. And I get that. But I want us to all consider whether or not what we think he is like reflects what he’s shown himself to be like.

The Bible helps us describes several different attributes or characteristics of God that help us to know what he is like. He is loving, trustworthy, faithful, just, gracious and merciful, unchanging, and so much more. But there’s one in particular that, depending on who we are, either intrigues or repulses us: God’s holiness.

What God’s holiness means

But what does it mean to be holy? We’re all familiar with this word, even the ordinary way we hear is as one-half of an expletive. But we also use it as an honorific for people we see as being particularly morally praiseworthy. And we use it when we are in specific places that have a certain quality. They are set apart and distinct from the world.

And that is, in one sense, what holiness means. It is to be separate or set apart from others. That’s certainly true of God, who is unlike any other. But to call God holy isn’t just to refer to this aspect of this nature. It describes God’s moral character. To call God holy is to say that he is ethically and morally perfect. Everything he does, everything he says, and everything he is, is good and right. There is no hint of wrong motive, selfishness, conceit, or any other sinister intent.

This is important for us to try to wrap our heads around because holiness is the central attribute of God’s character. This complete moral perfection is his default mode. And every other attribute we see in Scripture—love, mercy, graciousness, justice, and trustworthiness, to name but a few—is best understood in light of it.

God’s love is holy. It is perfect, pure, and good love, reflecting his very essence, the perfect love that resides and resonates within the Trinity—Father, Son, and Spirit.

God’s faithfulness is holy. He always keeps his word. He always keeps his promises, both on a grand, cosmic scale and in the everyday, seemingly insignificant moments of our lives.

God’s trustworthiness is holy. He always and only speaks the truth. He does not lie like human beings do. And it’s not simply that he always tells the truth. It is that truth exists because God exists. God is the embodiment of truth—he is the source of all truth (John 14:6). And we can believe him, even if we don’t understand what he has said—or, more often, even when we don’t like what he has said.

God’s justice (and justness) is holy. His judgments are always right and align with his righteous standards (Psalm 119:137).

His grace and mercy are holy, unlike anything we’ve ever seen or are even capable of, as he delights in showing unmerited favor to undeserving people like you and me, and showing compassion toward us—and to every person who has ever lived.

Recognizing God for who he is

To call God holy is to recognize his absolute perfection. But to recognize his holiness also troubles people. His holiness, his perfection, reminds us that we are not. It shines a light on our failures, impurities, and sins. It forces us to realize that our self-image is entirely different than our reality. We are people of “unclean lips” as Isaiah 6 says—prone to speak, think, and act in profoundly unholy ways.

And so we are tempted to downplay or even deny it to make him easier to approach or to reject. But if God were not holy, if he were not perfect the way he is, we wouldn’t have a God we can have confidence in. At best, we might have a well-meaning, but impotent deity. At worst, we would have one who we cannot trust to do what he says he will do because he’s prone to change his mind.

But that’s not who God is. The God who rescues and forgives through faith in Jesus doesn’t change his mind. The God who gives rest to those who are weary and heavy-laden won’t suddenly throw their burdens back upon them. He isn’t going to give up on his plan to rescue the world until every last point of it is completed, and to that end, even now he is calling people out of darkness and into his marvelous light. This is the good news that lets us sleep at night.

And, as you explore and consider what the Bible says about God’s holiness and his character, I hope you will see that it is good news worth believing.

This article is based on a companion video for my book, Faith Simplified: What We Believe and Why We Believe It. To learn more about the book, or order your copy, visit faithsimplifiedbook.com.

Photo via Deposit Photos

Read more at Aaron Armstrong.