Author: Šinko Jurica

My dad had this ancient, chipped plaster nativity set that he bought at a garage sale before I was born. Every year, right after Thanksgiving, he’d haul the box down from the attic. It smelled like old newspaper and dust. My job was specific: set up the scene. I was the kid who obsessed over the details. I’d line up the camels, make sure the wise men were approaching from the “East” (the kitchen), and place the baby Jesus dead center. I remember asking him one year, “Dad, was it really like this? Like, on this exact day?” He shrugged,…

My hands were freezing. I was maybe ten years old, standing in the front yard holding a tangled ball of Christmas lights while my dad cursed under his breath at a plastic wise man. It was mid-December, and the wind cut right through my jacket. I looked at the nativity scene—Joseph, Mary, and the baby lying in an open box—and then I looked at the frost on the grass. “Dad,” I asked, teeth chattering, “wouldn’t a baby die out here?” He stopped hammering the plastic stake, wiped his nose, and looked at me. “Probably,” he said. “But this is when…

I still remember the exact moment the question stopped being academic for me. I wasn’t sitting in a comfortable library or listening to a sermon in a heated sanctuary. I was shivering. It was late December, standing in Manger Square, and the wind was cutting right through my jacket. The air smelled like roasted chestnuts and diesel fumes. Standing there, wedged between a group of Nigerian pilgrims singing hymns and a local vendor selling sesame bread, I looked at the ancient stones of the church. I realized that asking where was Jesus Christ born isn’t about pinning a location on…

The first time I really thought about this, I was standing in the middle of the Roman Forum, sweating through a linen shirt that was a bad choice for July in Italy. The heat was radiating off the cobblestones like an open oven door. Tourists were swarming around the Arch of Titus, snapping selfies, but I was staring at a pile of broken marble that used to be the Senate House. I felt a weird disconnect. I was looking at the epicenter of the most powerful war machine the ancient world had ever seen. These stones heard the footsteps of…

I’ll never forget the smell of the old library basement at my university. It was a mix of dust, decaying paper, and floor wax. I was twenty years old, fueled by cheap vending machine coffee and a chip on my shoulder. I sat across from a guy named Dave—a philosophy major who loved to dismantle everything I held dear. Dave leaned back in his plastic chair, crossed his arms, and dropped his favorite grenade: “You know Jesus never existed, right? The Romans invented him to control the poor. Show me one non-Christian writer who even mentions the guy.” I didn’t…

I can still taste that terrible coffee. It was 2:00 AM in a cramped dorm room that smelled like gym socks and old paper. My roommate, a guy named Dave who had a poster of Einstein taped crookedly over his bed, slammed a heavy book onto his desk. He spun around in his chair, looking me dead in the eye. “He’s a myth, man,” Dave said, sounding tired but triumphant. “Just like Zeus. Or Thor. The guy never even lived. It’s all a fairy tale to keep people in line.” I sat there on my bunk, clutching a lukewarm mug,…

It was 2:00 AM, and the dorm room smelled like a nasty mix of stale pepperoni and burnt coffee. My roommate, Dave—a biology major who didn’t believe anything he couldn’t dissect—leaned back in his chair. He looked exhausted. He tapped his pencil on a textbook and dropped a grenade into the silence. “You know,” he said, “there’s probably more evidence for King Arthur than for Jesus. It’s all just a myth, right? Is there scientific proof that Jesus Christ existed, or did we just invent him to feel better?” I didn’t have an answer. That question bothered me for years.…

The question just hangs there, doesn’t it? It echoes through two millennia of art, debate, and deeply personal faith: Did Jesus Christ come in the flesh? This isn’t some trivial historical footnote. It’s not just a line you murmur in an old creed. This is, quite possibly, the most central, audacious, and world-tilting claim of Christianity. The entire faith balances on this single, radical point. The idea is so huge that we’ve almost become numb to it. Think about it. God—the infinite, unseen, cosmos-breathing creator—became a finite, fragile, visible human being. He didn’t just wear a “human suit” or project…

It’s a question that echoes through two millennia of history, art, and philosophy. It’s whispered in churches, debated in university halls, and pondered in the quiet of our own hearts. Was Jesus Christ a man? It’s an easy question to skim past. We tend to focus so intently on the divine side of the equation. The miracles. The walking on water. The resurrection. We see the stained-glass icon, the serene figure in a white robe, and we can lose sight of the person who walked on dusty, gritty roads and got calluses on his hands. But this isn’t just some…

It’s one of the oldest and most profound questions in human history. For over two thousand years, billions of people have wrestled with the identity of Jesus of Nazareth. The central claim of Christianity isn’t just that he was a good teacher or a prophet. The claim is that he was, somehow, both God and man. This paradox is the bedrock of the faith. But let’s be honest. It’s a difficult concept to wrap your head around. When I was a kid in Sunday School, I’d get stuck on this. I would hear the stories of him healing the sick…

It’s a name that defines an era, a name recognized in every corner of the globe: Jesus Christ. We hear it in hymns, see it carved into stone, and speak it as a central part of the Christian faith. It’s arguably the most famous name in human history. But is it the name his mother called out to him? Is it what his friends shouted across the dusty streets of Nazareth? This question—what is Jesus Christ’s real name?—sends us on a fascinating journey. It’s not about “debunking” anything. Not at all. Instead, it’s a journey that travels back two millennia,…

It’s easily the most famous name in human history. Billions speak it every day. In prayer. In anger. In song. But how often do we really stop to think about what it means? We hear “Jesus Christ” so often that it can blend into a single phrase, just a name. It’s not. It’s so much more. So, what does the name Jesus Christ mean? The answer isn’t a simple definition. It’s a journey into ancient languages, deep theology, and a claim that changed the world. Unpacking this name is like finding the DNA of the entire Christian faith. It’s not…

We hear the name all the time, don’t we? In songs, in churches, on street corners, and just splashed all over historical texts. “Jesus Christ.” It’s almost always said as a single name, like “Jesus” is the first name and “Christ” is the last. But have you ever really stopped to think about it? I have. For years, I just accepted it. It was his full name, like “John Smith” or “Tom Jones.” The truth, though, is so much more fascinating. It’s a truth that unlocks the very foundation of an entire global faith. “Christ” isn’t a family name. Not…

It’s one of the most common questions out there, whispered in classrooms or typed into a search engine late at night. We hear the name “Jesus Christ” as a single unit, all the time. We say it in prayer, we hear it in movies, some people shout it in anger. The two words just feel permanently fused together. So, it’s no surprise this leads to a fundamental question: What is the difference between “Jesus” and “Christ”? For a huge part of my childhood, I didn’t even know there was a difference. I’m not kidding. I just thought “Christ” was his…

It’s one of those questions that hides in plain sight. We say the name “Jesus Christ” so often the two words just fuse together. It rolls off the tongue like a first and last name. But it’s not. “Jesus” was his given name, the one Mary called him for dinner. “Christ” is a title. It’s a job description. It’s a massive, world-changing declaration. So, it makes you stop and think: When did Jesus become “Christ”? Was it at his birth, in that dusty manger? Was it at his baptism, when the sky opened up? Did it happen when Peter had…

What’s in a name? Or, maybe more to the point, what’s in a title? When I was a kid, my world was defined by titles like “son,” “student,” or “neighbor.” As I got older, new ones took over: “employee,” “husband,” “father.” Each one represents a different part of who I am, a different set of responsibilities. We use titles every day. They’re shortcuts to help us understand our world and the people in it. But when we turn to the Bible, we find one figure who has more titles than anyone else: Jesus of Nazareth. It’s a truly staggering list.…

It’s the most famous name in the world. Period. For billions, it’s a name of worship. For others, a historical figure. For many of us, it’s just part of our cultural wallpaper, a name we say without a second thought. But have you ever really stopped to ask, where did the name Jesus Christ come from? It sounds like a simple first and last name, like “John Smith.” It’s not. Not even close. The story of this name is a fascinating, wild journey. It’s a linguistic trip that crosses thousands of years, multiple empires, and several languages. It starts as…

I still remember the feeling. It’s as clear as day, even though I must have been seven or eight. I was running through the hallway—which I knew I wasn’t supposed to do—and my elbow caught my mom’s little porcelain vase on the hall table. It wasn’t expensive, but I knew she liked it. I saw it teeter, and I couldn’t catch it. The crash on the hardwood floor sounded like a bomb. A few minutes later, my mom came in. She didn’t yell. She just had that calm, all-knowing mom-voice. “What happened to the vase?” My heart was a trip-hammer…

It’s a question that hits differently, doesn’t it? It’s not just a debate-club topic. It’s the one that hangs in the air when we’re staring at a ceiling fan at 3 AM, or when we’re holding a newborn, or when we’ve just gotten the worst news of our life. We all have to face the wall of mortality. We all wonder if this is it. For billions of us, the answer to that massive, terrifying “what’s next?” question boils down to a much more specific one: Is Jesus Christ alive? Think about it. If he’s not, if the resurrection was…

It’s one of the most profound and mind-bending questions a person can ask about the Christian faith. We all know the Christmas story—the baby in a manger, the shepherds, the wise men. That narrative is a beginning. But was it the beginning? Or was it just the beginning of a new chapter in a story that was already ancient? The question, “Did Jesus Christ always exist?” cuts to the very core of who he is. Is he a created being, even the most magnificent one? Or is he, in his essence, eternal God? For many, this is a complex theological…

It’s a question that cuts right to the chase. For over 2,000 years, it has sat at the very heart of the Christian faith, both challenging believers and arming skeptics: Was Jesus Christ perfect? On the surface, for billions of people, the answer is a simple, automatic “yes.” It’s a core tenet of the faith. But what do we actually mean by that? Do we mean he never stubbed his toe, never got sick, or never had a moment of pure, human frustration? Or are we talking about something else? Something deeper, tied to his very nature and his entire…

Let’s be honest. This is one of the biggest questions in all of Christianity. Isn’t it? You dig past the surface, and this one is sitting right there, waiting. It’s not some side-quest. It’s the main event. We hear “Son of God,” “Messiah,” “Lord.” All the time. But what about the big one? Is Jesus Christ the Most High? That title… “Most High.” It just hits different. It feels singular. Final. It’s a title of complete, supreme sovereignty. That’s God’s title. The Father’s. The Almighty’s. So, can it also belong to Jesus? This isn’t just some dusty theological question for…

It’s a question that echoes through history, isn’t it? It’s arguably the most profound one we’ve ever asked. This single question has shaped empires, breathed life into timeless art, and just as often, been at the heart of bitter conflict. For two millennia, the entire Christian faith hasn’t rested on a new philosophy, but on a bold historical claim: that a carpenter from Nazareth was the long-awaited Messiah promised in the Hebrew Scriptures. So, is Jesus Christ the Messiah? That’s not just a dusty question for academics. It’s alive, it’s pressing, and for many, it’s deeply personal. To even try…

What’s in a name? Or, in this case, a title. I must’ve been seven or eight. I was sitting in a stuffy Sunday school room, and the teacher kept saying “Word of God.” For me, that meant only one thing. The book. You know, the massive, leather-bound Bible on the pulpit? The one that smelled like old paper and had pages so thin you were afraid to turn them. The “Word of God” was a thing. A heavy object. So, you can guess what happened when I first really read the Gospel of John. “In the beginning was the Word,…

This is a deep one. Let’s be honest, for many of us, it’s the single most confusing—and most important—idea in all of Christianity. That question, “Is Jesus Christ part of the Trinity?” It’s more than a trivia point. It’s the central puzzle of the faith. You can’t just give a quick “yes” or “no” and move on. This idea reframes everything we think we know about God. It’s the source of countless debates, the very line that defines belief, and the cause of deep, personal wrestling for millions. If you’ve ever felt lost trying to grasp it, you are in…

This is, hands down, one of the most confusing questions in all of Christianity. I can still picture myself in my little wooden chair in Sunday school, just completely stumped. We were told God is the Father. We were told to pray to the Father. Simple enough. But then we’d stand up and sing songs about Jesus being our God, our King, our Lord. My young mind just couldn’t square the two. How could they both be God but not be… each other? It felt like a trick question. A riddle with no answer. If you’ve ever felt that same…

It’s a question that feels almost too big to ask, one that can keep you up at night if you let it. It sits at the very heart of Christian belief, and the answer you find shapes literally everything else.Was Jesus Christ created? Or… was He just always there? This isn’t some new-age debate. This is the debate. It’s the one that rocked the early church to its core and forced believers to dig deep into the scriptures. For two thousand years, the sharpest minds, the most devout followers, and the most honest skeptics have all wrestled with the exact…

Let’s be honest, we’re all wired to look for “day one.” Everything in our world has a start date. A birthday. A “launch day.” It’s just how we operate. Our brains are stuck in time. So, naturally, when we think of Jesus, our mind snaps to Bethlehem. The manger, that star, the shepherds… that’s the starting line. Or is it? What if that was just the opening chapter, not the preface? Asking, “Is Jesus Christ eternal?” isn’t just a late-night dorm room question. It’s one of the bedrock, foundational pillars of Christian thought. It throws a wrench in our tidy,…

Let’s be honest for a second. Is Jesus Christ Omnipotent? I mean, really. You read the stories, right? Walking on water. Calming a hurricane with just a word. Healing a guy who’d been blind his whole life. That’s not normal. That’s… well, that’s power. But then you keep reading. You see him collapse from exhaustion in the back of a boat. You read about him being so hungry he’s just done. And then, on the cross, you hear him cry out in genuine agony. That doesn’t sound like an all-powerful God. It sounds like a man at his absolute limit.…

It’s the big one. The question that can tie your brain in a knot. I still remember the heat on my face as a kid in Sunday school, my hand waving. “Wait,” I asked, “if Jesus is God, who was he praying to? And if he’s God… how could he die?” The teacher smiled that patient smile, but the answer felt… fuzzy. It was a cloud of words like “mystery” and “three-in-one.” I’ve spent a lot of my adult life wrestling with that very question. And it’s not a “gotcha” question, either. It’s a genuine, logical head-scratcher. You read the…