Words matter. God reveals himself in a book of words. His spoken word created the universe. It’s the word—God’s Word—that’s “able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb. 4:12), and is “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness” (2 Tim. 3:16). Jesus himself wants us to understand him in terms of words: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).

Maybe that’s what caused a sold-out crowd of a 1,000 people to gather in downtown Dallas last month, where we listened to a group of four poets stand before a mic and shake us to our core for two hours—using nothing but words.  

Permanently retire your perception of underground poetry recitals featuring beret-donning beatniks playing bongos and waxing about the way the number eight feels. Imagine instead the most hard-hitting sermon you’ve ever heard—then imagine it rhyming. You’ll start to get a sense of what we experienced that night.

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