Light into the dark.
Clarity for our lives.

More than a nice teacher — who was this man really, and why does he still divide the world?

More than a nice teacher from Nazareth. More than a character in a novel. Jesus made claims about himself that nobody can simply walk past: he called himself the Son of God. He forgave sins, something that in Jewish understanding only God may do. He promised that everyone who trusts him has eternal life.

C. S. Lewis put it like this: Jesus was either a liar, a madman, or exactly who he claimed to be — God in the flesh. There is no harmless third option (“a good man and teacher”).

Who Jesus really was is decided by his resurrection. The eyewitnesses were willing to die for it, not for an idea, but for something they had seen.

The question “Who is Jesus?” is therefore not an academic one, but a deeply personal one.

When a child dies, a marriage falls apart, a diagnosis arrives — where is God then?

We know the question ourselves.

The Bible does not dodge this question. In the book of Job a man accuses God, without receiving an explanation, but with an encounter instead. The Psalms are full of cries against God. On the cross, Jesus himself called out “My God, why have you forsaken me?”

What the Bible promises is not a world free of pain, but a God who comes right into the suffering. Who does not watch from the outside, but suffers himself, dies himself, rises himself.

That does not make suffering small. But it keeps faith from being a plaster over open wounds, and makes it a hand that goes in with you.

Do the two rule each other out, or do they belong together?

The idea that faith and science rule each other out is fairly recent, and it does not hold up. Many of the greatest scientists were convinced Christians: Newton, Kepler, Maxwell, Mendel. There are countless researchers who believe today as well.

Science asks: how does the world work? Faith asks: why is it here, and what does it mean? Both questions are legitimate. Both answers complement each other, they are not in competition.

The Bible is not a physics textbook. It does not set out to explain how stars come into being, but who made them. Whoever can tell the one from the other lives more calmly, and with a larger picture of reality.

A question everyone asks at some point, and nobody can answer from their own experience.

What we know: near-death accounts, dreams, guesses. What we do not know: everything else.

The Bible says plainly that death is not the end of anything. There is a resurrection, a judgment, a life with God, or without him. Jesus himself raised the dead and rose himself. That is the ground of Christian hope: not wishful thinking, but a historical event with hundreds of eyewitnesses.

What you experience after death depends on what you do with Jesus now. That sounds hard, but it is consistent. Whoever wants to live with God gets that. Whoever wants to live without him gets that too.

Is faith a private matter, or do other people necessarily belong to it?

Being a Christian is not a club membership. You do not become a Christian by joining a church, attending a course or getting a membership card. Being a Christian is a relationship, with Jesus, personally.

But whoever follows that relationship ends up in community anyway. Not because they have to, but because they want to. Faith without other Christians is like a fire made of a single log, it goes out quickly.

So the question is not “do I have to go to church?”, but: where do I find people I can believe alongside? That may be a large congregation, a small house group or two friends at the kitchen table. The form is secondary, the community is not.

If God is alive, why do we notice so little of it? Or are we simply overlooking it?

Yes. Just rarely in the way we expect.

The Bible describes God as someone who has not let go of history. Empires come and go, governments are put in place and removed again, and he stands above it all (Romans 13:1; Daniel 2:21).

Most clearly, though, God acts where people open themselves to him: through his Holy Spirit, who convicts, comforts and changes. And through his church, meaning ordinary people who are there for one another, who share, forgive and pass on what they were given themselves.

Those who look for it usually find it not in the headlines, but close to home.

An old book, a historical source, or more? Why we make it our foundation.

For us the Bible is the foundation. Not one guidebook among many, but the standard by which we measure everything else, ourselves included.

It came into being over centuries, written by very different people, and yet it tells a single story: God is looking for us. Christians believe that God speaks through these texts, and that in them we can see who he is and who we are.

That makes it our benchmark. Where our opinion, our feelings or the spirit of the age point in another direction, it has the last word, not we.

The best way to test that is to read it. Start with Mark’s gospel — a few chapters are enough to begin with.

Israel divides opinion, even among Christians. What does the Bible say about God's plan for this people?

Above the cross stood the words “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews”, in three languages, so that everyone at the time could understand. This shows that God’s relationship with Israel cannot be separated from the person of Jesus. His sacrificial death on the cross and his expected return as judge of this world and of every single person are directly bound up with it.

The Bible says it plainly: Jesus, the Lion of the tribe of Judah (Revelation 5:5), has the power and authority to bring the future of the world and the judgement to completion in Jewish kingship.