Why Jesus calling himself “I am” was the most explosive claim he could have made

JEFF TURNER

Words have weight, and some words carry the weight of the entire universe. When Jesus stood in the midst of the Jewish leaders in John chapter 8 and said, “Before Abraham was, I am,” he was not being careless with his phrasing. He was making a claim so direct, so utterly unambiguous in its implications, that his listeners immediately reached for stones. They understood exactly what he meant.

To hear those words as a Jewish man or woman in first-century Jerusalem was to hear them against the backdrop of centuries of scripture. You would know Exodus chapter 3, where Moses at the burning bush asks God for his name, and God replies: “I am who I am.” You would know the repeated declarations in Isaiah where God says, “I am he.” The phrase carries the idea of self-existent, eternal, present-tense being, the God who simply is, without beginning, without end. That was the name, the signature of the divine identity.

And Jesus loved to use it. He said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” He said, “I am the good shepherd.” He said, “I am the vine.” He said, “I am the light of the world.” Each of these declarations was more than a statement of function; it was a declaration of identity. He was consistently and deliberately placing himself within the category that belonged only to Yahweh, the God of Israel, the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, the Lord of all creation.

To the religious leaders of his day, this was the ultimate blasphemy. It was worse than cursing God, worse than denying him, worse than any form of irreverence. And so they picked up stones.

But here is the thing: they were right that such a claim would be the most monstrous of blasphemies, if it were not true. The only way in which Jesus’s “I am” statements are not the ravings of a megalomaniac is if he is actually who he claimed to be. The evidence he offered them, his words, his works, his resurrection, his entire life, all of it points toward the same staggering conclusion: it was not blasphemy, because it was true.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him not even one thing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of mankind. And the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not grasp it.

John 1:1

How a small North Carolina church shaped Darin & Brooke Aldridge’s new album

ANDREW TAYLOR SR.

Darin & Brooke Aldridge have spent their career singing about faith, family and home, but on their new album “Soul Condition,” out now on Billy Blue Records, they went looking for something a little more specific: the sound of where they actually come from.

The eleven-track record marks the duo’s 11th studio album and brings in some serious bluegrass and gospel firepower, with Grand Ole Opry members Sonya Isaacs and Becky Isaacs of The Isaacs joining alongside GRAMMY winner Jason Crabb. But for Darin Aldridge, the album’s emotional center didn’t come from a Nashville studio. It came from a small church in Avery County, North Carolina.

“Speaking of our heritage back in western North Carolina, we got to go up to my uncle’s church that he’s pastored at now in Linville Falls, North Carolina,” Aldridge says. He and Brooke called in family for the occasion, pulling together as many aunts, uncles and cousins as could make it on short notice. “We called a bunch of our aunts and uncles and cousins that we could get together in one afternoon,” he recalls. “And we all come to that little community church and sang several hymns that day.”

The session had the feel of a family reunion as much as a recording date. Aldridge played guitar, his cousin Tommy and his mother took turns on piano, and Brooke’s parents rounded out the room. “I played a little guitar. My cousin Tommy played piano and my mom played piano. Brooke’s mom and dad were there,” he says, before turning to his wife to confirm the memory. “Wasn’t it, Brooke?”

The goal was simple: capture one of the songs from Soul Condition sung by an actual family choir, voices that had known each other, and those hymns, for generations.

For Brooke Aldridge, the afternoon delivered more than they expected. “It turned out so very special in that little church there,” she says, “and I think it’ll give people a good taste of where we come from and how we were raised.” That, she adds, is exactly what she and Darin set out to do with the record. “That’s exactly what we were trying to capture in Soul Condition.”

How storms shape our lives

TEXAS GOSPEL VOLUNTEER

Life’s storms can either strengthen a believer or lead them away from God’s purpose, depending on how they respond. Difficult seasons have the potential to build faith, wisdom, peace, and devotion when placed in God’s hands.

Some challenges leave believers stronger than before. Through hardship, God can produce greater understanding, deeper commitment, and a renewed sense of joy. Those who trust Him during trials often discover a greater confidence that they are walking in His will.

Think of it this way: The outcome of a storm is often connected to the response given to it, making faith and obedience especially important during difficult times.

Consider it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

James 1:2-4

You cannot commit to a God you do not know

JEFF TURNER

Before God asked anything of Moses, he told him who he was.

Consider the order of that moment at the burning bush. Moses has turned aside. He has drawn near. And the voice from the fire does not begin with a mission or a mandate. It begins with an identity: “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God. That fear was not weakness. That fear was the only appropriate response to suddenly understanding who was speaking.

God knew what he was doing. He knew that before Moses could say yes to anything, he had to know who was asking. You cannot give your life to an abstraction.

So much of the uncommitted Christianity we see around us, the half-surrender, the one-foot-in and one-foot-out discipleship, traces its root not to defiance but to ignorance. People do not fully give themselves to a God they do not fully know. To know him rightly is to find every excuse for reservation consumed in the fire of his holiness.

And this is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent.

John 17:3

HighRoad brings the American road show to a Norwegian barn, and Sarpsborg sings along

AMY TURNER / E.J. WILSON

The gardens outside a Nordic Lutheran church built in the 1850s do not typically host a gospel group from Nashville, Tennessee on tour. But that is where HighRoad found itself this week, walking the grounds of a 19th century sanctuary before an evening that would end with a sold out crowd in a converted barn.

The band is deep into a run of Norwegian dates, and the following they have built overseas is starting to look less like a novelty and more like a genuine relationship between a North American act and an audience thousands of miles from home. Vocalist Sarah Davidson has been chronicling the trip in real time, and her updates read like postcards from a tour that has wandered well outside the usual circuit.

Davidson described a day that started with the old church gardens and turned into an impromptu border crossing. “As we walked downtown we also walked over to Sweden,” she said, describing a bridge she stopped to admire before ducking into a small Swedish cafe for coffee and crepes. It is the kind of afternoon that does not usually make it into a tour itinerary, but for a band playing towns close enough to another country to walk there, it became part of the day’s rhythm.

By evening the group had made its way to Sarpsborg, where the venue was a barn with a history of its own. Davidson called it a beautiful, historic space that locals had converted into a music venue, complete with an old pump organ tucked into the corner. The hosts fed the band American style, with hamburgers and hot dogs on the menu, a small gesture that Davidson said made the night feel like a genuine welcome rather than just another stop on the schedule.

The show itself delivered. Davidson described the crowd as sold out and packed, an audience that showed up ready for HighRoad and made no secret of it. For a Texas gospel band a continent away from home, that kind of reception speaks to how far the group’s reputation has traveled.

The night closed the way a lot of the best tour stories do, with a view nobody planned for. Davidson described the drive home under a sunset around 10 o’clock, still bright at an hour that would be full dark back in Texas, calling it a stunning end to what she summed up simply as a wonderful day.

For a band whose name has occasionally landed sideways in write ups and transcripts, from High Road to Highroad, there was nothing lost in translation on this leg of the trip. Norway heard HighRoad loud and clear.