Tim’s experience is unique in that he holds six earned degrees. One is a master’s degree in Islamic studies from Islamic College in London, allowing him to study under Muslim scholars.
In the landscape of Christian thought, few figures appear as deceptively noble—and devastating—as Friedrich Schleiermacher. Applauded by academics as a brilliant theologian and revered in liberal Protestant circles as a reformer, Schleiermacher was, in truth, a theological arsonist.
Hell. It’s one of those words that can stop a conversation cold. Some hear it and scoff. Others wince. Still others avoid thinking about it altogether. But for Christians, hell isn’t just a theological footnote—it’s a sobering reality woven throughout the Bible.
Is heaven the final destination? Will we have bodies? Will we recognize each other? Is our eternal future spiritual, physical—or something else entirely?
A consistent tendency among Christian leaders—often with the best intentions—is to elevate MBBs into leadership positions far too quickly. Perhaps it’s because their stories inspire.
For most of my life, I carried wounds that no one could see—wounds buried so deep they shaped the way I thought about everything: God, myself, and others. These weren’t the kind of wounds you bandage or explain away with a story that makes people feel comfortable.
This tragedy teaches us that it's entirely possible to say we believe the gospel while inwardly living by our performance, reputation, or role in the church. We may sing “Amazing Grace” on Sunday, but we rely on our own faithfulness Monday through Saturday.
I grew up around people who looked like me but never felt like I belonged. My own culture felt like a jacket that never quite fit. I wore it because I had to. But it always felt tight in the shoulders, awkward at the seams.
