Reflections & Writings
Enjoy this emerging collection of writings that cover a variety of different kinds of Christian experiences. Some are related to spiritual direction, some are more theological in nature. Feel free to write me with your impressions, questions, or feedback.
Is Truth Enough?
Remembering Our Imago Dei
By Grace Rhee
“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them.” – Genesis 1:27
At different stages of our lives, we are tempted to lean more heavily on one side of the Gospel. At times, we are heavy on truth—as in biblical standards and convictions. We want something concrete that we can believe in. And when others don't see "truth" the way we do, we want to put people in their place, don't we?
At other times, we drift into a niceness, disguised as "grace" for conflict avoidance, which is not really grace at all. This dynamic shows up in how we treat others, especially in tense moments. In these moments, we need to return to our common denominator: our shared humanity as image bearers of God where every person matters.
Genesis 1 says we are God’s image bearers. We are even part of his shining glory, like stars in the universe. Yet throughout history, and in this current moment in time, we are being pitted against one another in so many ways. In God's eyes, we all have equal dignity and worth.
We love to applaud those who speak "truth." Some boldly say, "Prove me wrong." I wonder if there is love in that kind of approach. Further, truth alone misses at least half the Gospel. John 1:17 reminds us: “For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.” Jesus didn’t just come to drop truth bombs; the truth of Jesus came wrapped in grace. If he were to underline one of these words, it might have been grace, because that’s the part that saves us.
Jesus says in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Jesus not only spoke truth; He is truth. Truth is not a personal conviction or a subjective thing—Jesus is truth. Let’s let that sink in for a moment. And when we treat truth as a weapon instead of a person, we end up cherry-picking verses to make our point instead of pointing to Christ. Truth, as defined by Christ, sets people free (John 8:32, 17:17). The whole Gospel is one of grace and truth made possible by Jesus.
This is why remembering the Imago Dei (image of God) is so crucial. Without it, the two greatest commands—love God and love one another—become impossible. Jesus said anyone can love those who love them back. And without seeing people as God's image bearers, we have a hard time loving or humanizing them.
The Love That Binds
“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies… Nothing… will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 8:33, 38–39
We are increasingly suspicious of one another. Social media was meant to connect us, but it thrives on division and separation. But here’s what it doesn’t say: The love of God binds us to him and to each other. Romans 8 reminds us that we are inseparable from his love. If only we knew how deeply God longs for us to know his peace amid conflict… (John 16:33).
We now have too much information overall about what we're supposed to fear. We’re over-informed online and under-informed in person. We don't mean to judge, but somehow social media makes it easy to judge. Uncertainty and fear can make us want to grab control. But they can also lead us to the cross.
The Apostle Paul constantly spoke about a redefinition of power and weakness. While the Romans sought political power and status, Paul's gospel spoke of weakness as the currency of a saving faith. Salvation is by God's grace, not by human effort, even when it's good.
Yet, I see narratives that fuse self-advancement with Christianity. They say that God wants us to elevate ourselves because that is our calling. This could not be more contrary to the Gospel. We are called to a life of humility and a righteousness that is more hidden than bragged about.
How do we work against the culture of self-advancement? What would it mean to have a life that is hidden with Christ? (Col 3:3). Let's accept God's invitation to use our currency of weakness to experience God's steady strength. Let Jesus form us into a calm and peaceful presence.
A Cross-Shaped View of Human Suffering
By Grace Rhee
We all face seasons of grief, doubt, and waiting. A cruciform theology teaches that our suffering is not meaningless. Suffering can draw us closer to God and shape us toward hope in the resurrection life... that is, if we let it.
What Is a Cruciform Theology?
T.S. Eliot penned: “Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” Suffering is a universal human experience. Yet for Christians, suffering is not merely a confusing experience, but it is interwoven with our faith. Still, many people, including churches, often struggle to navigate suffering well. We are quick to proclaim victory, but do not know how to be present with ourselves and with God in the midst of dark times.
A cruciform theology, a theology shaped by the cross, invites us to hold together the death and resurrection of Christ as one inseparable reality. The cross reveals a God who fully enters into the depths of human pain. The resurrection reveals that suffering, when united with Christ, can become the place of transformation and redemption.
When we separate these two, we risk distorting the gospel. Without the cross, resurrection hope becomes triumphalism. When we carry the hope of the resurrection, a greater story is being told even while we are suffering.
We Will Not Be Abandoned
God's story of incarnation means that God does not remain distant from our pain, but Jesus, the Son of God, entered the cross out of pure love and obedience. He took the cup of suffering for our sake.
In Christ, God took on our flesh — our sin, our brokenness. I believe that Jesus' cry at the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” is not a cry of actual abandonment, but the lament of the Son who felt physical and spiritual tension. His connection to the Father remained unbroken. Jesus's last words were, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." Jesus's spirit was one with the Father, even in that moment of death. This was the extent of Jesus' commitment to us, to never leave us, even when we're at our worst.
Participating in Christ’s Suffering
New Testament theologian Michael Gorman speaks about a life with Jesus as "Participating in Christ." It's not about becoming a better person with Jesus's help; it's about embodying the person of Christ and his character. Paul also describes this as "imitation," but "participation" also describes what Paul is saying.
Paul writes, “I want to know Christ, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings” (Phil. 3:10).
Our culture gives us strategies to avoid pain, to numb it, or to fix it as quickly as possible. But the gospel calls us to something different— to remain in the tension, to meet God there in the murky middle.
This participation in Christ is not a glorification of suffering— the kind that can lead to pride, but a transformation through it. We become re-formed by Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Reclaiming the Practice of Lament
The Psalms show us that lament is faith expressed through honesty. In lament, we bring our whole selves before Him — our grief, confusion, anger, and longing. In lament, there is always room to "tell it like it is" to the Lord. He can handle it. Maybe it looks like agreeing with God about how bad things are.
In the Ancient Near East, lament was practiced communally and not alone. In the modern-day West, lament is often experienced in secret or in private therapeutic spaces. The Psalms show us that we can be brutally honest about our pain, even in the same breath we utter our desperation for God
In lament, our wordless groans have a place to land. It allows us to be honest about our grief and sadness. Lament is a place where we can cry out without seeking immediate answers or explanations. God meets us in lament, as he did for our ancestors generations ago in the Scriptures. Lament is a necessary practice that most of us never learned in our discipleship to Jesus. Instead, we learned to look for silver linings, but often prematurely.
Let us cling to hope, a hope grounded in a certain future, even as we face uncertainty here on earth.
“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast (1 Peter 5:10).”
