Between royal boast-inscriptions, shattered stelae, and clay bullae stamped into wet earth nearly 3,000 years ago, the Bible’s world occasionally snaps into sharp historical focus. This article follows that trail—ten names from the Old Testament that can be checked against extant records.
Brilliant dive into how material evidence grounds biblical narratives. The way the gypsum panels and clay bullae work as primary sources rather than just artifacts is exactly what separates solid history from speculation. I always found it fascinating how assyrian administrative records treat Jehu's tribute so matter-of-factly while the biblical text frames it as prophetic fulfillment, same event different framings. Really shows why we need both archeology and textual analysis to get close to what actually happend.
I sat wrapped in my fleece quilt looking out my apartment window. Snowflakes fell onto the thick blanket of icy snow covering both street and ground beneath my fourth floor efficiency. My apartment building lost power under the weight of the storm surging across the United States. Historic storm with twenty-one states declaring a state of emergency.
I shivered.
The one candle lit inside my room warmed my hands as I left my window seat. Hundreds of thousands like I snowed in, cold and alone.
But was I?
I looked around my apartment now in shadows as I climbed beneath the covers of my bed. I pulled the blankets up to my chin as I turned on my side to look at the glowing Yankee, Christmas candle.
Is the Bible true?
What I know about the Bible could fill an ink cartridge in a pen. Not much.
For most of my life, the Bible meant nothing, and frankly, I held contempt for those Bible thumpers.
Alone in this freezing cold apartment I wondered about the Bible I had disdain for. If I died in this freezing cold apartment, alone and hungry, what would happen to me? A street preacher told me last year that I was going to hell when I told him to shut up.
Is that true? What is hell, and would I go there?
My teeth chattered as the room’s temperature dropped in harmony with the below zero temperature outside.
The candle flame danced about with the draft coming in through the single pane window.
How many days will my apartment be without power? It has already been twenty-four hours.
I opened a can of fruit cocktail and ate that. It tasted awful. Not even the McDonalds five blocks away was open. If it was I would go out in the cold and snow and get me a Big Mac.
My stomach growled. Is there really a God? Is it fantasy? Is it some old peoples’ morbid joke for humanity. Telling us that a God loves us when we suffer so?
The blankets didn’t stop my teeth from chattering. If there was hot water, I’d take a shower to warm up by. But no. No electricity and no hot water.
The flame continued to dance encouraged by the drafty window.
I started to create a song for the flame. I entitled it Liminal Joy. The flame was having more fun than I.
The lyrics had one repeat refrain. “I know more than you do.” That is the only sentence that came to me as I froze beneath my blankets.
Then, to amuse myself I sang those words. I couldn’t help myself. Having a resonant voice, those words bombarded the semi- darkness around me. And the flame danced even more profoundly at those words.
After fifteen minutes of singing those words, I stopped. I just stopped, and the flame stayed still.
It’s glow warmed me in away I can’t quite figure out. I actually felt warm. I took a couple blankets off me. I felt really warm. I wonder why.
Brilliant dive into how material evidence grounds biblical narratives. The way the gypsum panels and clay bullae work as primary sources rather than just artifacts is exactly what separates solid history from speculation. I always found it fascinating how assyrian administrative records treat Jehu's tribute so matter-of-factly while the biblical text frames it as prophetic fulfillment, same event different framings. Really shows why we need both archeology and textual analysis to get close to what actually happend.
Liminal Joy
By Kathleen Tonn
I sat wrapped in my fleece quilt looking out my apartment window. Snowflakes fell onto the thick blanket of icy snow covering both street and ground beneath my fourth floor efficiency. My apartment building lost power under the weight of the storm surging across the United States. Historic storm with twenty-one states declaring a state of emergency.
I shivered.
The one candle lit inside my room warmed my hands as I left my window seat. Hundreds of thousands like I snowed in, cold and alone.
But was I?
I looked around my apartment now in shadows as I climbed beneath the covers of my bed. I pulled the blankets up to my chin as I turned on my side to look at the glowing Yankee, Christmas candle.
Is the Bible true?
What I know about the Bible could fill an ink cartridge in a pen. Not much.
For most of my life, the Bible meant nothing, and frankly, I held contempt for those Bible thumpers.
Alone in this freezing cold apartment I wondered about the Bible I had disdain for. If I died in this freezing cold apartment, alone and hungry, what would happen to me? A street preacher told me last year that I was going to hell when I told him to shut up.
Is that true? What is hell, and would I go there?
My teeth chattered as the room’s temperature dropped in harmony with the below zero temperature outside.
The candle flame danced about with the draft coming in through the single pane window.
How many days will my apartment be without power? It has already been twenty-four hours.
I opened a can of fruit cocktail and ate that. It tasted awful. Not even the McDonalds five blocks away was open. If it was I would go out in the cold and snow and get me a Big Mac.
My stomach growled. Is there really a God? Is it fantasy? Is it some old peoples’ morbid joke for humanity. Telling us that a God loves us when we suffer so?
The blankets didn’t stop my teeth from chattering. If there was hot water, I’d take a shower to warm up by. But no. No electricity and no hot water.
The flame continued to dance encouraged by the drafty window.
I started to create a song for the flame. I entitled it Liminal Joy. The flame was having more fun than I.
The lyrics had one repeat refrain. “I know more than you do.” That is the only sentence that came to me as I froze beneath my blankets.
Then, to amuse myself I sang those words. I couldn’t help myself. Having a resonant voice, those words bombarded the semi- darkness around me. And the flame danced even more profoundly at those words.
After fifteen minutes of singing those words, I stopped. I just stopped, and the flame stayed still.
It’s glow warmed me in away I can’t quite figure out. I actually felt warm. I took a couple blankets off me. I felt really warm. I wonder why.
Why do I feel so warm?