In American contemporary Christian culture the word “saved” gets thrown around quite often; so often in fact that the concept of salvation to which it refers seems to have become minimized to refer solely to the moment of one’s mental conversion to Christianity.  The term has become overused within a fixed paradigm with very limited vocabulary in which a preaching individual presents the gospel or lays out the plan of salvation, to the point that

Back in January, I wrote an article about the dangers of individualism, warning that the dignity and agency of human beings is at risk in a society where we are required by law to treat others as black boxes and consider sacrosanct the freedom to close ourselves off from people and ideas. The recent controversy over the Indiana Religious Freedom Restoration Act brought these thoughts back to my mind. Since then, I’ve again been wondering

In 19th century Europe, industrial capitalism was quickly reshaping economic and social relations, resulting in massive influxes of wealth to the capitalist class and leaving in its wake “the utter poverty of the masses.”1 Sociologist James Fulcher characterizes that time period as the stage of “Anarchic Capitalism,” in which those who owned the means of production faced little regulation from the state or pressure from organized labor.2 The Dutch poet Willem Bilderjdijk put the plight

Happy weekend, dear readers! Here is a round-up of different religion, theology, and current events articles from our own authors and across the internet. The following articles do not necessarily reflect the views or mission of Conciliar Post. These articles have been selected based on their prevalence across popular blogs and social media and their relevance to current events. We invite you to engage in friendly and positive discussion about these articles. If you read a thought-provoking

Fresh morning sun peered into my eyes as I swung my car onto the main road in town. I cruised toward a church I had never entered, realising—as I pulled between the mustard-coloured lines to park—that I did not know where to go. I stood uncertainly, looking back and forth between the looming church and the sad-looking parish centre behind it. I made the decision to poke my head in at the parish centre, as

Two weeks ago I was witnessed to. An evangelical armed with a King James Bible and a million dollar smile didn’t ask me if I knew where I would go if I died today. I wasn’t given the latest edition of The Watchtower by a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I wasn’t stopped by a couple of clean-cut young men in white dress shirts, sporting backpacks and the Book of Mormon. No, I wasn’t proselytized by

I have seen the purity and beauty of thy perfect law, the happiness of those in whose heart it reigns, the calm dignity of the walk to which it calls, yet I daily violate and contemn its precepts. Thy loving Spirit strives within me, brings me Scripture warnings, speaks in startling providences, allures by secret whispers, yet I choose devices and desires to my own hurt, impiously resent, grieve, and provoke him to abandon me.1

            ! risen is Christ and we are left looking up and lifting up the exclamation to a point It can be easier to affirm in languages not our own because he has gone to a foreign land Throughout Bright Week we are blinded from standing and staring too closely at the Son We return to eating vicarious deaths after our own death has been vanquished by the blood Old habits