Advent's hidden power: How Christ restores what sin destroys



As we enter the season of Advent, let us reflect on Jesus’ work, through his incarnation, of restoring God’s image within his followers.

The divine image and idolatry

Psalm 115:2 asks: Why should the nations say, “Where, now, is their God?” The reply? “But our God is in the heavens; He does whatever He pleases” (v. 3).

Indeed, Yahweh is “Maker of heaven and earth” (v. 15). By contrast, the gods of the pagan nations are lifeless:

Their idols are silver and gold, the work of man's hands. They have mouths, but they cannot speak; they have eyes, but they cannot see; they have ears, but they cannot hear; they have noses, but they cannot smell; they have hands, but they cannot feel; they have feet, but they cannot walk; they cannot make a sound with their throat (vv. 4-7).

Then we come to the arresting line: “Those who make them will become like them, everyone who trusts in them” (v. 8).

New Testament scholar G.K. Beale notes in his book "We Become What We Worship: A Biblical Theology of Idolatry" that as we compare such a text with Genesis 1, we find ourselves encountering a key theme in biblical theology: God created humans as “imaging beings who reflect his glory.”

Christ, who is the very image of the invisible God, came to restore that image that had been tarnished and obscured by sin.

As we see in Psalm 115, humans’ failure to commit themselves to God will result in their reflecting not him but something else in creation. We’ll either reflect the Creator or the creature. Idolaters resemble what they worship: “What people revere, they resemble, either for ruin or restoration.”

In Martin Luther’s Large Catechism, he writes:

A god is that to which we look for all good and where we resort for help in every time of need; to have a god is simply to trust and believe in one with our whole heart. As I have often said, the confidence and faith of the heart alone make both God and an idol. If your faith and confidence are right, then likewise your God is the true God. On the other hand, if your confidence is false, if it is wrong, then you have not the true God. For the two, faith and God, have inevitable connection. Now, I say, whatever your heart clings to and confides in, that is really your god.

Where we find our ultimate security and whatever claims our deepest loyalty, that is our god.

According to Old Testament scholar Christopher Wright in his book "The Mission of God," gods and idols may be gateways to the demonic world, but primarily the Scriptures view them as “the work of human hands, constructs of our own fallen and rebellious imagination.”

Wright adds: “The primal problem with idolatry is that it blurs the distinction between the Creator God and the creation. This both damages creation (including ourselves) and diminishes the glory of the Creator.”

Concerning Exodus 20:3-6, Beale asks: Do we have two commands or just one?

After all, having “no other gods” before the Lord meant not making “an idol, or any likeness” of anything in the world in order to be worshipped “since it was believed that the divine presence was to be contained in that image.” And even an image that represented the Lord — like the golden calf (Exodus 32:1-9) — was an assault on the Creator-creature distinction; such images were prohibited in order to “maintain a continuing consciousness among God’s people that there is a distinction between the Creator and the finite creation.”

To represent God in creaturely form was to idolatrously misinterpret him. God’s presence couldn’t be localized in an object; any attempt to do so diminished his incomparable glory (Isaiah 42:8).

The divine image and the Incarnation

This brings us to the point of the Incarnation and the mission of God.

In Wright’s words:

Since God’s mission is to restore creation to its full original purpose of bringing all glory to God himself and thereby to enable all creation to enjoy the fullness of blessings that he desires for it, God battles against all forms of idolatry and calls us to join him in that conflict.

Thus, we “need to understand the whole breadth of the Bible’s exposure of the deleterious effects of idolatry in order to appreciate its seriousness and the reason for the Bible’s passionate rhetoric about it.”

The church father Irenaeus wrote: “He who was the Son of God became the Son of man, that man … might become the son of God.” That is, Christ, who is the very image of the invisible God (2 Corinthians 4:4; Colossians 1:15), came to restore that image that had been tarnished and obscured by sin. He is the most true human, the very archetype of humanity — the second Adam who came to undo the damage of the first Adam.

His incarnation, death, and (especially) resurrection have ushered in a new creation. As a result, we who have put on the new self are “being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of [Christ]” (Colossians 3:10).

As Advent is upon us, we are reminded of these themes. Charles Wesley’s hymn “Since the Son Hath Made Me Free” puts it this way:

Heavenly Adam, life divine,
Change my nature into thine;
Move and spread throughout my soul,
Actuate and fill the whole;
Be it I no longer now
Living in the flesh, but thou.

And in his “Let Heaven and Earth Combine,” he writes:

He deigns in flesh to appear,
Widest extremes to join;
To bring our vileness near,
And make us all divine:
And we the life of God shall know,
For God is manifest below.

And again in “All-wise, All-good, Almighty Lord”:

Didst thou not in thy person join
The natures human and divine,
That God and man might be
Henceforth inseparably one?
Haste then, and make thy nature known
Incarnated in me.

This article is adapted from a post that originally appeared on the Worldview Bulletin Substack.

“I Was Living a Double Life:” Breaking Free from LGBTQ Sin | Guest: Richard Matthews | Ep 1106

“I Was Living a Double Life:” Breaking Free from LGBTQ Sin | Guest: Richard Matthews | Ep 1106

Campus Crusade for Christ’s ‘Diversity Team’ sent a ridiculous post-election note — to BIPOC only



Campus Crusade for Christ, also known as Cru, is a college organization whose mission is reportedly to connect people to Jesus Christ. However, as of late, it seems that it's been more interested in connecting students with the woke agenda.

“They were basically presenting theological liberalism, political liberalism, as a viable option for their ministry leaders, things like pronoun politeness, they even presented affirmation of transgenderism, not as Cru’s own position, but as a position that some Christians might hold, and, of course, they have been very supportive of the social racial justice movement over the past few years,” Allie Beth Stuckey of “Relatable” comments.

After Donald Trump won the 2024 presidential election, things got even stranger — specifically with Cru’s “Oneness and Diversity” national team.

“After the election, they kind of played this mushy middle role that they’ve been playing for a while, pretending that voting for Kamala Harris is like a viable option for Christians and that we should refer to the sadness of Christians and feel for the sadness of Christians who are disappointed that Kamala Harris — who rabidly and enthusiastically supported abortion through all nine months of pregnancy — lost,” Stuckey says.


This “Oneness and Diversity” team also reportedly sent out a post-election letter, reportedly addressed only to its list of minority and BIPOC staff members. The letter was titled “Oneness is a truth and a journey.”

“The letter sought to help them with the spectrum of feelings following Trump’s victory but mostly focused on feelings of anger and grief. So the problem is first that they sent it out to racial minorities only, and this is just something that we see in the legacy of 2020,” Stuckey explains.

“A lot of Christian leaders doing this, pretending that black and brown Christians have to get one message, and it’s a message of comfort and I would say coddling, and then the white members have to get another message and that is a message of ‘You bear all of the sins and the responsibilities of everyone who has roughly the same skin color as you,’” she continues.

“Which, of course, is just not the gospel. The truth is that both sides need to hear, ‘You are responsible for your actions, you are not responsible for the sins of your ancestors, you’re not responsible even for the victories and successes of your ancestors, you are not judged by these things, but you are judged by your own heart,’” she adds.

Want more from Allie Beth Stuckey?

To enjoy more of Allie’s upbeat and in-depth coverage of culture, news, and theology from a Christian, conservative perspective, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution, and live the American dream.

Cru’s “Diversity Team” Sent a Ridiculous Post-Election Email | Ep 1105

Cru’s “Diversity Team” Sent a Ridiculous Post-Election Email | Ep 1105

Lions Kicker Jake Bates Glorifies God After Nailing Game-Winning Field Goal

In the National Football League’s Sunday night finale, Detroit Lions kicker Jake Bates used his platform to glorify God after nailing the game-winning field goal during the team’s matchup against the Houston Texans. “I think it just shows how good the Lord is. He’s so faithful,” Bates said in his post-game interview. The Lions’ new […]
The Christian Obligation to Vote Against Kamala I Guest: Jonny Ardavanis | Ep 1088

The Christian Obligation to Vote Against Kamala I Guest: Jonny Ardavanis | Ep 1088

JD Vance declares what Kamala mocks after Christian interrupts speech: 'Jesus is King'



Republican vice presidential nominee Sen. JD Vance unequivocally declared Sunday that "Jesus is King."

Speaking at a campaign rally in Wisconsin, Vance denounced Vice President Kamala Harris for spewing "anti-Christian rhetoric" and promoting "anti-Christian" public policy. That's when a rally-goer interrupted Vance's speech, shouting, "Jesus is King."

'We're going to respect Christians.'

But instead of admonishing that attendee — like Harris did last week when some of her rally-goers declared the kingship of Jesus Christ — Vance stopped his speech and affirmed the declaration.

"That's right! Jesus is King!" Vance said.

Vance is an outspoken Christian, having been baptized in 2019 as a member of the Catholic Church.

— (@)

After affirming Jesus' kingship, Vance excoriated Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer (D) for a "sacrilegious" viral stunt in which she appeared to mock communion.

"I don't think that we've seen anything like this in modern American politics," Vance said. "Gretchen Whitmer does this really bizarre thing where she acts like she's giving somebody communion, but it's a Dorito. And of course, Gretchen Whitmer isn't like a minister of anything — except for a church I don't necessarily want to talk about — but think about how sacrilegious that is, and think about how offensive that is to every person."

"Frankly, whether you're a person of Christian faith or not, Donald Trump and I are going to fight for your right to live your values because that's what the First Amendment protects," Vance continued. "And I think whether you're a Christian, a Catholic, or any other faith or no faith at all, when you see an American leader, when you see a surrogate of Kamala Harris insulting people of the Christian faith, I think that we should say to every single one of those people, 'You're fired! We're not giving you any more power.'"

In a second Donald Trump presidency, Vance promised, "We're going to respect Christians."

Vance's reaction to hearing "Jesus is King" was completely different to that of Harris when she heard the same declaration at a campaign rally last week.

While speaking at the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse, a pair of students shouted, "Jesus is Lord" and "Christ is King," resulting in what they said was heckling from Harris' supporters.

But the moment went viral on social media when Harris paused her speech and appeared to address the students.

"You guys are at the wrong rally," she jeered. "I think you meant to go to the smaller one down the street."

— (@)

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Jesus Christ's cross-shaped strength resists muscular Christianity



Jesus’ triumph over the powers of darkness is one of the great doctrines of the Christian faith. As a Christian, I take great confidence and comfort in his conquest. Sin and death no longer hold power over me because of the devastating victory secured over them by Jesus. Every time we proclaim that Jesus is Lord and Christ is King, we are reminded that “he disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him” (Colossians 2:15, ESV).

Yet there is an emerging attachment to Christus Victor that looks far more like Nietzsche than Christ, to the extent that I wonder if we’re talking about the same Jesus.

The victory of Jesus, to these folks, is permissive rather than formative; it is a call to aggression rather than cruciformity. This shift is taking place most clearly in the Christian nationalist circles, where the evidence is regular, if you’re looking for it.

What's the big deal?

Let’s back up. What’s the problem? After all, none of us are keen on losing. None of us want to be made to look the fool. Being a Christian in the open isn’t what it used to be. With secularism in the cards, the deck is stacked against Christians in the public square.

Every time we try to make Jesus more explicable, we make him smaller. And in his grace, he just won’t let us do that.

Isn’t growing a spine a good thing? Shouldn’t we be celebrating Christian strength in an antagonistic world?

Sure. Maybe. Well, it depends.

The Gospels are filled with people trying to make sense of Jesus by categorizing or locating Jesus in their religious-political-cultural schema. And they're littered with the wreckage of their failed attempts, as Jesus deftly explodes each one. Don’t take my word for it; see Matthew 16:32; 19:10, 13; Mark 6:52; 10:26; Luke 9:54; 18:34; John 4:27.

It seems we’re still struggling to make sense of him today.

Why? Because Jesus is punk rock and doesn’t like to be labeled? No. Because he’s God, and every time we try to make Jesus more explicable, we make him smaller. And in his grace, he just won’t let us do that.

A muscular Jesus for a muscular Christianity

It seems to me that many people, particularly the Christian nationalists and many on the far right, want a more muscular Jesus for a more muscular Christianity. Tired of a weak religion, these folks crave something more vibrant, more directed. And really, I don’t begrudge the effort. We still haven’t figured out what to do with modernity. And we certainly haven’t figured out what to do with men and masculinity in a modern world. Many Christians are hungry for someone, anyone, who can point them toward a meaningful vision of constructive and creative strength.

As Christians, we know we should point them to Jesus. But perhaps Jesus has a bit of a PR problem? Is it really a good idea to tell your constituents not only to take one on the chin but to willingly offer the other side? And then to go model it by getting crucified? The last thing we need in our masculinity crisis is a teacher who tells men to become more meek and make peace a priority. And then there’s that deeply problematic episode where Jesus does the slave work of foot-washing and then tells his elite crew to follow suit.

Perhaps, then, we need to rehabilitate Jesus’ image — to give him a slightly tougher edge, a bit more grit, maybe some red laser eyes. With the revisionist’s flair, we recut this film to include the scene where Jesus flips temple tables while wielding a whip, then cut to the one where he stills a storm with a single word and finally to the exquisite takedowns: “whitewashed tombs,” “children of hell,” “brood of vipers.”

This seems to be the thrust of a recent article that invokes Nietzsche to frame the pitiful state of contemporary evangelicalism. While admitting that he doesn't agree with Nietzsche’s conclusions about Christianity (I should hope), the author argues that the American church has become a “pacified church obsessed with soothing our pitiful state.” What we need, he argues, is an invigorated passion for virtue, honor, and “manly warfare.” Or to put it differently, we need a muscular Jesus for a muscular Christianity.

Seeing Jesus rightly

The problem — as you’ll have anticipated by this point — is that in doing this, we’re not really pointing people to Jesus but to a magazine-cutout collage of what we desire Jesus to be.

Jesus spends so much time exploding malformed notions of himself because sin has twisted our understanding of what humanity is supposed to be. The experience of redemption is not simply about escaping the penalty for our sin but about being remade, or reformed, into humanity as God intended.

This is why Paul tells us that we’ve been predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son (Rom. 8:29). Through sin, we’ve lost the plot on what it means to be human. In Jesus, we rediscover it.

True greatness is found in humble service. That true triumph is had through suffering. And that true power is gained through weakness.

Which means we have got to see Jesus as he presents himself. The whole Jesus, the complex and three-dimensional Jesus.

We must hold together what feels like tension to us: the King riding into Jerusalem with the abused and crucified Christ; the sharp-tongued destroyer of hypocrisy with the King who welcomes wild little children; the all-knowing man who would not entrust himself to humanity with the suffering servant who asks his friends to stay up while he prays in agony; the mighty stiller of storms with the healer who has compassion on the relentless, crushing masses bringing their most vulnerable to him.

Or perhaps the vision in Revelation 5 puts it best: “‘Weep no more; behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has conquered, so that he can open the scroll and its seven seals.’ And between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders I saw a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain” (Revelation 5:5-6, ESV).

The conquest of the Lion is effected only in the sacrifice of the Lamb. And so they remain, indivisibly bound together.

I’m convinced that Nietzsche grasped the true outlines of the gospel. He understood what it meant for God the Son to die for the sins of the world. But he hated that vision. He was disgusted by the weakness and apparent inconsistency of it all. He wanted a vision of strength — a self-sufficient humanity that took the chaos of the world by the horns and made something glorious out of it.

It seems he’s finding company once more.

But Nietzsche missed the real beauty of the gospel. My hope is that Christians trying to find their footing in this tumultuous world won’t, that they will instead see that true greatness is found in humble service. That true triumph is had through suffering. And that true power is gained through weakness.

Having Babies Might Cure Depression | Guest: Dr. Catherine Pakaluk | Ep 1079

Having Babies Might Cure Depression | Guest: Dr. Catherine Pakaluk | Ep 1079

AI has shown us the face of Christ. Will it bring more to the faith?



Every generation gets to choose whether or not to abandon Christianity. In 2,000 years, no generation has fully walked away.

The irony is hard to miss: The very tool we feared might render faith obsolete has given us the most human image of Jesus yet. Science, thought to replace God, is now part of the process that brings us back to Him.

Christianity isn’t merely a story that’s been retold for millennia; it is the story. It’s the one that never grows old, never fades with the times.

Sometimes, the new chapters of this story come in the most unexpected ways. A recent example is how the Shroud of Turin — a centuries-old relic long thought to be a medieval hoax — found its way back into the public conversation.

Best of all, it wasn’t a miracle that rekindled interest in the cloth. It was science.

From skepticism to wonder

For decades, modern skepticism relegated the Shroud of Turin to the realm of medieval forgery, debunked by carbon-dating tests in the 1980s.

Science was supposed to bring clarity, to expose the myths that faith had built. But here we are again. The Shroud has returned, and this time, it is technology itself that has reignited the mystery.

Former "Saturday Night Live" star and recent Catholic convert Rob Schneider was so inspired by his encounter with the relic that's he's making a movie about it. "It breathed life into me," he explains.

It’s not just Schneider. The Shroud’s reappearance on the world stage reveals something far bigger.

Science, which was once so sure it could unmask religion’s mysteries, is now revealing new layers. Tiny particles of pollen, identified through advanced equipment, suggest that the cloth’s origins trace back to the Middle East — specifically Israel. New scientific methods like wide-angle X-ray scattering dated the Shroud far earlier than previously thought — around A.D. 55.

The lines between myth and reality are blurring. Science, once believed to be Christianity’s greatest adversary, is suddenly taking a seat at the table of faith.

AI gave us the face of the Lord

But it’s not just relics like the Shroud that are undergoing a digital transformation. Technology is now playing a central role in how we encounter faith.

The face of Jesus — something people have dreamed of, imagined, and painted for millennia — has been recreated by artificial intelligence. Using data from the Shroud and other sources, AI systems have attempted to render what may be the most accurate depiction of Christ’s face.

It’s a face that’s both familiar and new. The long hair, the beard, the haunting eyes — eyes that seem to look into not just the world but each of us, individually, deeply.

The irony is hard to miss: The very tool we feared might render faith obsolete has given us the most human image of Jesus yet. Science, thought to replace God, is now part of the process that brings us back to Him.

As we hurtle deeper into the digital age, we’ve been conditioned to seek meaning in data, in pixels and screens, in algorithms that shape our reality.

And yet these same tools are leading us back to questions that are profoundly ancient. The face of Christ, now digitized and rendered in high definition, serves as a reminder: The divine is not so easily replaced.

Back to the heart of belief

For centuries, the Christian faith has thrived on a core paradox: to believe without seeing. When the apostle Thomas doubted the resurrection, Jesus appeared and offered his wounds as proof. "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed," He added (John 20:29).

He was talking about us. You and me.

Now, in the 21st century, science is offering glimpses of what once seemed impossible to prove.

While we may never confirm the Shroud’s authenticity beyond a shadow of a doubt, the mere possibility forces us to grapple with something bigger. Faith isn’t about what’s seen — it’s about what transcends sight. And sometimes, when technology allows us to glimpse the mysteries of old, it invites us to marvel rather than dismiss.

The resurrection has always tested human comprehension. It’s a story of victory over death, a promise at the heart of the Christian faith.

As AI constructs the face of Christ and science re-examines ancient relics, the digital world and the divine collide in unexpected ways. We aren’t abandoning faith; we’re rediscovering it through the very tools meant to replace it, tools that allow us to stare deeply into that unmistakable face, those never-ending eyes.