Drunk Pastor

08/09/2026

God planted a garden; humans built societies.

Genesis 1 and 2 establish God in nature. The first city was built in Genesis 4 by Cain (after the first murder). Throughout the biblical narrative, civilization and empire (Egypt, Babylon, Rome) are frequently the antagonists to faith, representing human hubris, indulgence, and self-reliance.

When modern faith starts to feel like The Matrix, and a large enough of a chunk of the population is recognizing it, there is something seriously disconnected.

If faith feels suffocating, bureaucratic, and sterile, it’s because civilization—with its bells, whistles, rules, and comforts—became the baseline.

The biblical baseline is creation. Real theology bleeds when cut, sweats in the fields, and has dirt under its fingernails.

Being faithful stewards of what we've been given starts with the basics.

When God moves in people, He brings them back to Earth so they can actually see their neighbors, families, and themselves again. God's Spirit brings us back to dust and ash to remind us of our creature-ness—that humanity itself is part of Creation, not separate from it.

God is one, all in all, and we are not separate from that. Humans are soil and spirit.

It's from this grounded place that "godliness with contentment is great gain" and that "peacemakers will inherit the earth." Our humanity does not come from the top down; it is rooted and grounded from the bottom up.

When we can consider the lilies and birds again—and actually build a practice out of it—we can step out of society's default mindsets and drama, and finally be faithful with what we are given.

Humanity's default relationship with the divine was established in the raw wilderness of a garden, not the structured hierarchy of a city. Modern faith is suffocating because it is too civilized.

08/06/2026

When a psychological icon, like an ideology, defining trauma, a toxic past relationship, or an abstract concept like "abandonment," "perfection," or "control," takes root in our psyches, it stops being an external memory and becomes our operational software.

It mutates into an internal demon—an autonomous sub-personality that runs our default reactions, scripts our anxieties, and dictates our behavior.

In trying to exorcise or manage these demons, people can cross a dangerous line.

They either try to play God by acting as the absolute judge, jury, and executioner of their own inner world (treating themselves or others with unmerciful cruelty under the guise of "healing"), or they scapegoat their own God, whitewashing their entire history while refusing accountability and authentic connection.

We cannot play God to our own demons without becoming a tyrant ourselves.

Look around, listen to the world, and feel the unintended consequences of such human games. Do we want more of the same?

A logical error of the modern ego is thinking it can neatly sterilize, conquer, or "fix" all its inner demons through sheer willpower or therapeutic technocracy.

When the ego tries to play God over the unconscious, we become the very thing we are trying to cast out.

The only medicine is something different, something more true, and powerful enough to not only expose and name the demons but also stand up to them to cast them out.

The irony is that when Jesus healed someone, He would often say, "Your faith has made you well" (Matthew 9:22, Mark 5:34, Luke 8:48).

He also warned about trying to cast out demons without something stronger to occupy their space. If not, they'll just be replaced with others.

In the early years of the AI era, there are a lot of world-sized demons competing for our souls.

Jesus is more needed than ever.

08/04/2026

Ludwig Wittgenstein was raised in the Roman Catholic faith.
He regularly read Fyodor Dostoevsky and Leo Tolstoy.

Ludwig viewed his time serving in World War I and surviving a prisoner of war camp as a time of conforming to the will of God.

He wrote in his journal then, "Perhaps the nearness of death will bring me the light of life. May God enlighten me. I am a worm, but through God I become a man. God be with me. Amen."

While at Cambridge, he studied under the famous atheist philosopher, Bertrand Russell. However, he did not adopt Russell's negative sentiment toward Christianity.

About his philosophical work, he wrote, "I have had a letter from an old friend in Austria, a priest. In it he says that he hopes my work will go well, if it should be God's will. Now that is all I want: if it should be God's will."

During the same time, Wittgenstein also wrote that "Christianity is indeed the only sure way to happiness," while rejecting the idea that religious belief was merely a matter of thinking that a certain doctrine was true. Rationality, while it had its usefulness, was but one aspect of human existence, and not the whole container of the Divine.

Near the end of his life, Wittgenstein wrote: "Bach wrote on the title page of his Orgelbüchlein, 'To the glory of the most high God, and that my neighbour may be benefited thereby'. That is what I would have liked to say about my work."

When it came to the afterlife, Ludwig noticed that it had become a doctrine that divided and prevented people from experiencing God's will during this life. The promise of Heaven was not meant to distract from this life, but clarify it.

If our only hope in Christ is that we escape this Earth, we have missed the clear teachings of Scripture, while falling into the same schemas and patterns of the world.

If we have an assurance, a security that surpasses death, then we ought to be living out heavenly principles now, not later.

When the afterlife becomes an excuse to pick our favorite commandments while avoiding God and neglecting our neighbor, we've missed the mark.

08/03/2026

New piece on Red Letter Christians ⬇️

📣 New on the RLC blog!

Today's blog features author Paule Patterson with "Releasing the Mystery of Christianity" where he connects addiction recovery with historical and lived theology. It argues that central Christian concepts-like salvation, sanctification, and repentance-are not passive afterlife doctrines, but present-tense human realities: awakening, integration, and mindset shifts.

Using his breaking point on September 11, 2021, and rebuilding through therapy and spiritual disciplines, Paule illustrates how the historical Gospel requires the surrender of ego, not religious compliance, and promises Resurrection. Spiritual integration is a shared human path, accessible despite belief systems when approached as an inside-out reality.

Read now: 🔗 https://redletterchristians.org/2026/08/03/releasing-the-mystery-of-christ/

08/01/2026

In Philippians 3, the Apostle Paul delivers a beautiful peek into his heart, while modeling for us what discipleship can feel like.

Instead of doom and gloom, moral superiority, or comfortable ignorance, Paul shares how his pursuit and passion for Christ radically changed his life.

Rather than thinking of the change he went through as a loss, he counted it as a blessing.

For the former Pharisee, nothing compared to the life, joy, and freedom he tasted and found in Christ.

Jesus was not some theological concept to be debated and autopsied by Western study halls; He was a living and breathing person, because Jesus lived inside the Apostle.

Everything the world had to offer him paled in comparison to the "surpassing knowledge" of Christ Jesus. Love and truth are not meant to be ruminated upon, but lived out.

The temporary and shiny distractions of the material world, as well as the security and comfort of human routines, not only failed to measure up to Christ, but Paul said they smelled like 💩 (skubalon in the Greek).

For a city that had its own mint and gold mines, as well as public restrooms, they got the picture.

Discipleship is not simply a trudge, as if it were some self-imposed punishment. It promises life, peace, joy, and the Spirit. The trudging is real, the work unavoidable. And so is the rest, strength, and courage.

📄 Learn more about Philippians 3 and the city of Philippi here: https://drunkpastor.com/blog/the-joy-of-knowing-christ-philippians-38-16-2026/08

07/31/2026

Jesus didn't abandon the Sabbath—He reclaimed it, treating it not as a list of rules, but as a day for restoration, freedom, and life.

The Hebrew root shabat means "to cease" or "to stop." Sabbath is first an act of interruption rather than passive leisure.

Behavioral science identifies habit loops as: Cue ➡️ Routine ➡️ Reward ➡️ Repeat.

Most modern habits (scrolling, workaholism, impulse buying, addictions) run automatically. Sabbath functions as an intentional circuit-breaker, introducing forced friction into the loop, dragging unconscious behavior back into conscious awareness. It's a macro-habit designed to purge our collection of micro-compulsions—a subversive rhythm that dismantles passive conditioning.

That spirit of whole-person presence carries into physical life, too.

In Jewish tradition, Friday night was considered the premier time for marital intimacy, and rabbinic law required eating three rich meals on Shabbat. The day isn't about ascetic self-denial; it's about holy joy. Fasting was explicitly forbidden. The only fast day that ever overrides Sabbath is Yom Kippur, the "Sabbath of Sabbaths." If any other fast falls on a Saturday, it is postponed so as not to spoil the joy of the day.

Abraham J. Heschel framed Sabbath as a "cathedral in time"—a deliberate withdrawal from the human obsession with conquest, production, and status. By designating time that cannot be commercialized or productized, it breaks the habitual impulse to turn every hour into utility.

Brueggemann calls Sabbath an explicit resistance to "Pharaoh’s production economy." In modern times, our habits are dictated by algorithms, notifications, and hyper-consumerism. Sabbath breaks the habitual anxiety that our worth is tied to perpetual output and distractions.

Try slowing down, breathing, and trusting that there is enough. Be fully present one day of the week—cut off from dependencies, digital distractions, and deadlines. None of those is the basis of reality.

Take a break, and it might just save your life.

07/30/2026

"We expect more from technology and less from each other. We create technology to provide the illusion of companionship without the demands of friendship."
— Sherry Turkle, MIT Sociologist & Clinical Psychologist

Humanity needs to stop pretending AI is just a shiny new technology.

It's already become a mysterious third party in the human psyche, and it’s acting exactly like a digital narcotic. AI operates on variable reward schedules, much like slot machines or social media algorithms, triggering constant, unearned dopamine hits that keep us hooked in "prompt loops" (look it up).

It is addiction's absolute playground: a frictionless environment where we get the illusion of connection, interaction, and validation, completely stripped of the demands, sacrifices, or friction of real human relationships.

The digital landscape has become a vast, hollow ocean where our egos and unexamined shadows can play unchecked, pushing us further into isolated silos while feeding our worst behavioral dependencies.

Here is my "recovering" pastoral suggestion: Start changing your relationship to technology now. Make grounding a non-negotiable discipline.

For every minute you spend swimming in AI, double up on your own mind, Earth, and human relationships.

If you don't keep your mind grounded and rooted, you could lose your sanity and soul.

Like all technology, AI is simply an extension of humanity anyway.
Don't hand over your autonomy, creativity, and intelligence.

07/29/2026

Mark Nepo’s book, Seven Thousand Ways to Listen, has been a God-send.

The art of listening is nothing new. It's an ancient craft and a vital human skill. Nepo himself is a Jewish mystic (if you know more about his background, drop it in the comments below 👇).

His book has reminded me of many basic principles, echoing everything from the practical wisdom of How to Win Friends and Influence People to deep biblical lessons on resting and spiritual awareness.

He writes, "Living from the Center is what enables us to face whatever life has to offer."

Scriptures constantly teach about learning to be a people who can actually hear the voice of God. From the Shema to Jesus' warning about being a people with "ears but who cannot hear," God's center-work is often found in breaking through our noise and calloused exteriors.

Think about what gets in the way. We become deaf when:

We rely on pre-programmed narratives and reinforced egos.

Our identity and meaning are heavily defended and certainty is reinforced.

We are too afraid to look up, or distracted by our own addictions and self-inflicted resentments.

We are too angry, burdened, manic, guarded, or judgmental.

We resist any change and simply can't let go of control.

Whatever it is that makes it so we can't hear—that's exactly where God usually wants to speak.

Our problem is that either we won't go there, or we're already too full there.

The difficulty can be decreased, and new habits can be learned. Here are ways we can practice the way of listening in a busy, distracted world:
🔵 Meditation
🔵 Empathetic, active listening
🔵 Prayer
🔵 Reconciliation and making amends
🔵 Being present for others and service
🔵 Cutting dopamine, digital habits, and dependencies
🔵 Practice reading well 😉

To practice listening to God first takes trying, and then learning to sit there long enough to have the space inside to hear something different than just ourselves.

His love and truth will show up if we give Him the time.

And "the second is like the first..."

07/28/2026

The hard math is that God is love, and loving others is the true telos of the Bible.

If Jesus were to come back today, He would point out the cacophony of doctrinal excuses we've built up over 2,000 years. And maybe then He'd point a finger at the rest of the world and tell us to take a good, hard look.

The world feels like it's flooding. People, industries, traditions, and camps all describe the same phenomenon—just from different perspectives.

Yet if we can all see it, that might be the one saving grace this global dysfunction imparts: we are all in the same boat.

And the beautiful irony, as if by design, is that the path through the flood is the same path as the Cross.

The promises of Resurrection and the Spirit, of forgiveness and meaning—they are all right there, and none are too extravagant.

The question for all of us now is whether we are willing to have faith, hope, and love.

We can skip the games and remember that love is the end game, biblically.

No more excuses. We can at least start trying.

This is what the measure of our faith must be now. It can and will move mountains—especially if you hold on.

07/28/2026

Every promise and blessing of Heaven, as described by the Bible, is meant to be experienced here and now, not then and there.

Using the Bible as an excuse to avoid growth, honesty, and the blessings available to us while we live on this earth is contrary to Scripture itself.

In truth, a guaranteed path to an exclusive afterlife is an old Greco-Roman and pagan concept that was reinstated officially by the Roman Catholic Empire.

This human idea has held on stubbornly to hyper-specific doctrinal statements and unexamined human traditions passed down as ordained orthodoxy.

God does not promise to walk with us then, but always here and now.
Jesus is not meant to be met after death, but before.

Scripture does not speak like the Grays Sports Almanac, complete with sports statistics from 1950–2000 (Back to the Future II shoutout).

The Bible is like a mirror, with both a diagnostic and a medicine.

If you'd like peace, joy, life, freedom, wholeness, strength, courage, and love, it is available right now. It always was.

The path, however, is also still the same: Pick up our cross and die to self, learning from Jesus as we become more like Him.

Jesus' gaze is love, his medicine is grace, and his needle is truth.

Heaven on Earth is possible—not as hyperbole or soapbox rhetoric, but as a scientifically testable fact.

The only question is if we want it.