The Way of Eden: Resisting the Darkness, Book by Jonathan Dillon

The biblical theme of Eden functions as an ongoing pattern for understanding life, community, and spiritual formation, where human flourishing is shaped not by domination or force but by cultivation, patience, and care, like a garden. Spiritual conflict is primarily against unseen powers rather than people, calling for a response marked by love, humility, and faithful presence instead of aggression or tribalism. Deep engagement with Scripture is not merely informational but transformative, steadily shaping character and action in the way a well-watered tree produces fruit for the benefit of others. This vision extends into everyday life, where relationships, hospitality, and intentional community become expressions of God’s kingdom, forming small spaces of restoration that reflect divine order within a broken world.

Anthony Delgado: I'm Anthony Delgado, host of the Biblical Re-Enchantment podcast, and today we're jumping into the Garden of Eden with a discussion with my friend John Dillon from the Two Trees Podcast. He's a pastor, a friend, and an online influencer, at least in our theology circles. He's written a book called The Way of Eden. It’s not about the Garden of Eden exactly in the way that we think of. If you look at Genesis 2, when the bush of the field was yet in the land and no small plant of the field had yet sprung up—for the Lord God had not caused it to rain on the land, and there was no man to work the ground—and a mist was going up from the land and watering the whole face of the ground, then the Lord God formed the man. You know the story. From that, the Garden of Eden is planted, man is placed in the garden, and a river flowed out of Eden to water the garden. We get this image of the Garden of Eden, this first place that God designed for humankind.

What many people don’t realize is that the Garden of Eden doesn’t leave the biblical narrative when Adam and Eve leave the garden. That happens just one page later in Genesis 3. What Pastor John Dillon has done in this book is give insights into the way the Garden of Eden influences the rest of the biblical narrative, and even how the Garden of Eden starts to come back into our world. So John, thank you for being with us. Let me ramble a little bit here at the top of the podcast. Can you tell us about your background and how your experiences have affected the themes and narrative of this book?

Jon Dillon: Thank you for letting me come and talk about my book, Anthony. It’s great to see you and to have a chance to speak to the Biblical Re-Enchantment community. I am from Appalachia. I grew up in West Virginia, and in many ways the mountains are unlike places in the world. They are neither north nor south; they are their own thing. You seem odd to people no matter where you go. Having grown up there, I realized as I got older and began meeting people from all over the world that living in Appalachia had really shaped the way I view the world. Those mountains, streams, and the way we lived formed me in ways that were different from how the rest of the world was operating. Not in a bad way—I love Appalachia. I’m currently serving in Ohio, and it’s taken me a while to love flat lands, but I do. God’s put me in a great place, but I miss the mountains.

I use the metaphor of the mountains and Appalachian life to discuss the quiet power of God shaping the world around us as an act of resistance against the darkness. In some ways, there are a lot of biographical notes here. I talk about my struggle with depression and my love of God, and how I’ve seen his creation not just as a neutral thing, but as an active participant in my life.

Anthony Delgado: That’s amazing. I love the way that unique theological perspectives and the theological journey of different authors come through in their writing. I think that was definitely true for your book. It reminds me a little bit of Dr. Carmen Imes—what she tries to do. You can hear her story coming through her writing, and yet she’s also doing good biblical theology, and then taking it into church life. That’s what I try to do in my writing, and that’s what I think you did in this book.

The book blends theology with story, imagery, and personal narrative in a unique and beautiful way. It was easy to read and also meaningful. A lot of times we read dense theology books and they nail the meaningful side, but miss the story, imagery, and art. Your book is not that. I want to mention up front—I’ve got two copies here. I got a free copy from the publisher and then bought two. I want to show how thin it is for those watching. It looks thinner than it feels when you read it, because there’s a lot to do with this book. To read through each chapter, to ponder it, to reflect on the questions at the end of each chapter—there’s a lot to do with this book. It’s not something to be done with in a couple of hours. That’s what I like about it. At the same time, if you needed something quick to read on a plane ride, it would serve that purpose, but there’s a lot to chew on. John, I was wondering—

Jon Dillon: I purposefully made the book small. It’s much harder to say something in a hundred words than in a thousand words, especially for a pastor. I can ramble and go for a long time, so I tried to compress the book. I used to be a literature teacher, and I love reading. Books have shaped the world that I live in. But if I hand somebody a 500-page book, especially a farmer from my community or a coal miner from where I grew up, they’re not going to read it. It becomes a decoration instead of a tool. What this book is, is ten conversations that I’m trying to have with the church as a whole. I wanted it to feel small and non-aggressive so you pick it up and don’t think, “I don’t have time to read that book.”

What I’ve found is people say, “This book is too small. Is it worth my time to read?” I think it is, but you’ll have to let me know. As a pastor, you’ve experienced this too—you have people who are deep in their Bibles and know the stories, and people who are brand new. You have to speak in a way that reaches different levels of your congregation if you’re going to feed your flock. I tried to bring that into this book. If you know the Bible stories frontwards and backwards, there are things here that will reach you. If you are new to the Bible, this book has you in mind as well. It doesn’t fit into a good category, which the publishers didn’t like, but it’s what I wrote.

Anthony Delgado: It is a unique and new style of writing. If I could condense it and say what genre this is, I would say it’s a biblical theology for the church. It takes the narrative of Scripture and says, “Here’s how you should think about this as the church today.” That’s not really a category yet, but there are a lot of people doing this. I just read a book from another pastor with the same idea, written from his perspective for his congregation, about a hundred pages. He asked me to proofread it. I’ve had a couple people reach out for that, and I love proofreading books.

Before we jump into the content of the book, could you tell us a couple authors that have influenced your thinking, and maybe one or two that have influenced your writing voice?

Jon Dillon: I used to be a literature teacher, so I love books and grew up with them. My parents were educators, so there were always books around the house. I don’t remember asking for a book and being told no. There were expectations of reading, even in the summer—my mom had a reading list for me. Books have always been a blessing, a source of joy and challenge.

The author who challenged me the most is C. S. Lewis. I’ve always loved his lighthearted style. Even when he strongly disagrees with someone, he has a non-confrontational way of addressing people and bringing them to the core of what he’s talking about. I wanted that to be part of my writing style. I also love Ernest Hemingway and a lot of different types of literature. Michael Heiser shaped the way I view the Bible. I grew up on J. R. R. Tolkien and those kinds of stories. G. K. Chesterton was also formative in what I would like my writing to sound like.

There aren’t really names for this, but in West Virginia, storytelling is part of life. Gathering on the porch or around a campfire while someone tells stories is part of the culture. I grew up loving the scary stories people would tell about the mountains or local history. It’s just part of the culture I grew up in. I try to give an homage to that in the book and acknowledge that storytelling is part of what it means to be human. This isn’t a textbook. It’s not about memorizing terms. It’s designed to be more appealing than that.

Anthony Delgado: Yeah, it definitely is. I’m sure plenty of my audience will know Michael Heiser and those guys. There’s definitely a biblical theology influence in there, but I knew there had to be some literary authors in the mix as well, and you can see that.

I want to talk about the way of Babylon first. This is chapter two of the book. I don’t want you to give away the whole book, but you wrote, “Our enemy is not flesh and blood, but principalities and powers, the rulers of the darkness of this world.” You’re thinking about Ephesians 6 and the cosmic powers of darkness. How should followers of Jesus interpret the conflict in the world around them based on this passage?

I think it’s common for people in biblical theology circles to get caught up in the demons, fallen angels, holy angels, and all the supernatural elements, and miss that there is a practical element to these things—something we should be thinking, doing, and living. Why should we understand our war as most significantly spiritual instead of physical, or as a spiritual war first before it is a physical war?

Jon Dillon: The short answer is because Christ loves people, sinners. He came and died for them on the cross. You should never be surprised when the world acts worldly. That’s where they are; it’s what they are. For me, talking about the calling of Christ is first and foremost the gospel, which your book did a great job discussing. The Gospel is Bigger than You Think—it’s not just about dying and going to heaven. It’s about representing the king. It’s about knowing that God is at work on the earth. He desires us to image him, to show the world what he is like.

Beauty, love, and joy—the fruits of the Spirit—are not passive things. These are weapons we wield against the darkness. My point isn’t to push people around. My point is for them to hear me, to get the gospel to them in a way they aren’t pushing back against. The more we turn Christianity into a political mindset of this party versus that party, we demonize people.

Having grown up in a place where racism was a real thing and having served the Lord in different places, I’ve seen what this “us against them” mentality looks like, and I don’t find it in the gospel. What I see God doing in the creation of the church is forming a new kind of humanity, a new kind of people where it doesn’t matter what language you speak or where you grew up. Once you come to Christ, you are family.

That concept is missing in the modern tribalism we see, especially on the internet. It has become a place to attack people you disagree with. C. S. Lewis was instrumental in shaping my thinking here. We disagree on some things, but he spoke so beautifully about the things we share that reading him felt like a conversation with a person, not just a textbook. That changes how I think about what’s happening.

When I encourage my church to study the Bible or to do acts of righteousness and goodness, I don’t see those as defensive or passive. This is us moving against the darkness in our community. We don’t do that by pushing sinners out. We do it by shining the light of Jesus into the communities we are in. I don’t think the church is doing a great job of that today. I don’t think I do as good a job as I would like, but I can see in the text this calling to be something that is missing.

Anthony Delgado: Yeah, and pointing to politics is helpful because that’s one of the big struggles we have. We get caught up in warring against the flesh—red versus blue, blue versus red. It sounds a little like a conspiracy theory to say there is a deeper darkness underlying that, but it’s a classical motif you see in literature and film—that there is something deeper going on beneath the surface.

I think that’s what is happening. I think the evil one wants to keep us distracted, at war with one another, so that we are not coming to Christ. Our hope ends up in red or blue instead of in Christ.

Jon Dillon: When Israel went into captivity, Nebuchadnezzar came, destroyed the temple, and there was this series of movements where people were taken away from Jerusalem into Babylon. There’s a powerful text where Jeremiah is speaking to the exiles. He doesn’t tell them to overthrow the government, run away, or burn anything down. What he says is, build houses, plant gardens, get married, and pray for Babylon.

That idea shapes the way I view what’s happening. I can’t change people’s lives, but I can show you Jesus. I can allow the movement of God to take hold of my heart and my life so that I am giving a clear presentation to my children and to whoever I have authority to reach. Everyone has a sphere of people who respect them, and I want them to see in me a person who shows not just that heaven is coming, but that the ways of God are influencing me now.

When I die and go to be with the Lord, it will be better. I have no doubt about that. But I also recognize that God is the God of the universe right now, and I am an ambassador of his kingdom. I want to represent that. When Jesus talks about bringing war to the gates of hell, it’s not by violence or force. It’s what the exiles were doing in Babylon when they refused to be broken—when they planted gardens, got married, and found joy even in sorrow. That is a powerful statement. In a world that is loud and aggressive, a movement like this is designed to make a difference. I think that’s part of God’s sovereign plan at work throughout time.

Anthony Delgado: Yeah, I was really taken by your illustration of Jeremiah and the exile, because that’s a good example of what you mean in chapter three by a “pocket of Eden.” They were supposed to create a pocket of Eden, a place within the exile, within a kingdom that is not God’s kingdom, where God’s kingdom still has a presence and an influence that brings blessing to the world.

In chapter three you wrote, “The weapons of our war are not those of this world—not violence, hatred, isolation, self-obsession—but quiet, steady light.” I’ve often described a Christian household as a little Eden, or maybe now I should say a pocket of Eden. I’ve also described local churches that way. How do you see ordinary followers of Jesus cultivating pockets of Eden in daily life—at home, at work, in the neighborhood, in the church?

Jon Dillon: I don’t think there is a substitute for friendship. That’s not something people want to hear. The idea that we can just add another program to our lives and our community will be better appeals to me as a pastor because I like scheduling things, but honestly, you have to invest in people. You have to make them feel valued, listen to them, and give your time. This is a sacrifice.

It’s seen throughout Scripture and throughout life. There are people who came into your life and made it better, and people who made it worse. There are places you go because they bring rest. Even something simple like drinking coffee in a café involves intentional effort to create a certain environment.

Churches have often become cold and utilitarian, where everyone sits and something is presented, hoping something grows. God can use that, but he has placed us in a beautiful world and equipped us with creativity and skills. As a church, we need to lean into that and find ways to use those gifts to bless others. Church often revolves around the platform—preaching, singing, helping people sit and watch—but that’s not life. That’s an event.

The Sunday service is the gathering of the church, but real life happens in moments where we host, create beauty, and serve others—bringing meals, hosting funeral dinners, giving to families with new babies. In those moments, we show not only love for people, but love for God by honoring those he loves.

Anthony Delgado: It reminds me of the pandemic, when everyone was arguing over whether you could livestream church. As you describe this, it highlights the oddity that church has become about an event rather than the ecclesia—the gathering of the saints.

It’s interesting because we should be doing everything we can. It’s strange because we have to preach—we’re both preachers. We have to preach and teach; that’s a biblical requirement of our position. But at the same time, it’s odd how that drives this idea of church as an event. We’re always having to push against that.

We have a membership class coming up at Palmdale Church this next Sunday, and I’m rethinking how I do those classes because I want people to understand that membership is about family and community, and to take that seriously. That’s really what we need to be. It’s more natural to see that in the home, but taking that into other areas of life is challenging, even though it’s necessary.

Jon Dillon: There are many practical ways to do this. My church family is in rural Ohio—farmers and factory workers—and their skill sets are incredibly practical. Rather than saying those things don’t have a place in the church, we try to connect them with ways to serve. We are active in our community and in missions. We’re constantly looking for ways to connect people through friendship, not by assigning people to tasks, but by building real relationships.

There’s tremendous power in breaking bread together. If you try to gather the whole church in one place, none of us have houses big enough for that. It requires a community determined to show the love of God. Sometimes we do things corporately, but often it’s each person shining light that allows the church to do something greater.

I use the imagery of starlight in the book. Growing up, my mom would take us outside to look at the stars, point out constellations, and tell stories. We would always look for the first star. It’s not very big, but it only takes one point of light to lift your eyes from the earth to the heavens. I think our lives can become that. We live in a world where people are begging for connection. That’s why social media has exploded. Church is designed to connect people if we turn from receiving to giving.

Anthony Delgado: I love that. No Biblical Re-Enchantment podcast would be complete without bringing up giants. In chapter six, “Dominion Ends Dominance,” you made me think about the giant narratives. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the symbolism of giants.

You wrote about how power in the kingdom of heaven is wielded differently than the world expects. I see three categories: a worldly sense of dominion, which is really tyranny—top-down control where someone dictates how things should work; the wilderness, where there is no order, only chaos; and then God’s order, which is an inversion of human systems—what we might call servant leadership, where the last are first and the first are last. It’s a high order, but marked by humility rather than domination.

In Scripture, giants often depict this tyranny. They are kings or generals because they are the strongest. They stand above others, they conquer, and that’s how they gain power. The world still operates that way. Those with the strongest voice or personality can control others and rise to power.

God’s call to dominion—to multiply, fill the earth, and extend Eden—is different. The world still seeks flourishing through dominion, but it is focused on building the kingdom of man instead of the kingdom of God.

So how would you distinguish between exercising dominion as God intended and slipping into the world’s pattern of dominance? As Christians or churches, how do we pursue dominion without doing it the way the world does?

Jon Dillon: Throughout the Old Testament, especially with the giants, they are eaters and killers. They enforce their will through fear and the subjugation of other people. If you’re in the way, you kill them. That idea has at its root a kind of warfare based on violence. When you look at humanity as God designed it, it’s not a warfare based on violence, but on gardening.

It is someone who gives attention to a plot of ground and desires to bring living things out of the dirt. I grew up with gardens as part of life. Almost everyone I knew kept one. My grandparents, in particular, grew a massive garden, and they ate from it as a matter of necessity as well as enjoyment. We would walk around and look at each plant—what parts are healthy, what needs attention, what bugs are affecting it. There’s a plan, but never the expectation that each plant will look like another.

You don’t prune two trees the same way, even if they’re growing a few feet apart. Each one is unique. If we try to mass-produce people who look, act, and talk the same—where unity at the expense of diversity becomes the goal—gardening doesn’t make sense. Gardening is the opposite. It rejoices in diversity as plants grow toward fruitfulness. You can recognize a healthy plant when you see it, even though a healthy tomato plant doesn’t look like a healthy apple tree. There is still a unity that binds them together.

Rather than forcing people into a particular shape, Scripture calls us to lift our eyes toward the things of God. If we acknowledge him in all our ways, he will direct our steps. My job as a pastor is to shepherd sheep. That’s the imagery Scripture uses, and it’s built into the word itself. But in the Old Testament ideal, it also carries this idea of gardening. In the New Testament, the presence and power of the Holy Spirit is described this way—the fruit of the Spirit grows.

So as a pastor, my job is not just to put on a good show on Sunday, but to ensure that the garden I’m tending is fruitful. I want to help people, but I have to understand the limits of my authority. It’s not my job to mandate what they do; it’s my job to cultivate—to give them good ground for growth, to bring good things into their lives, and to shelter them from harm as much as possible. The metaphor eventually breaks down because people aren’t plants, but it changes how I approach them. My calling is not to push them from one place to another, but to make sure that where they are, they have what they need to grow.

Anthony Delgado: That’s so helpful. It’s fascinating to hear you talk about biblical theology, the role of the Holy Spirit as a gardener, and then how that connects to the shepherding role in the church. It reminds me of that episode we did with Nick at 3M on pastors as theologians. I’m thankful for pastors who are faithfully shepherding, even if they don’t have a strong desire for formal theological education, because without them, no one would be there.

At the same time, I love meeting people who can think critically about the biblical narrative and bring that into the life of the church. We also have the opposite problem—too many academics who don’t think pastorally. It’s not helpful when people read those works and then argue with their pastors without any real application. It can lead to pride rather than growth.

When we see how the wisdom of Scripture shapes the way we live, that’s where it becomes powerful. We need teachers who are also shepherds—pastor-teachers—those who work the pasture. That integration matters.

Your podcast is called The Two Trees Podcast, based on the two trees in the garden, and that theme shows up again in chapter nine of the book, “Trees Planted by Streams of Water.” It’s not surprising to hear you talking about trees, plants, and fruit in this way.

Jon Dillon: Yeah.

Anthony Delgado: In that chapter you wrote, “The word of God is the river in the wasteland where exiles sink their roots.” I think that’s really interesting. How does Scripture and the pursuit of the knowledge of God form deep resilience in Christian living, especially in a culture filled with noise, distraction, and instability? I’m looking for both practicality and theology—what is the word of God doing in us to permeate that noise?

Jon Dillon: I can talk about trees all day. When you think about the way God made us and gave us a calling, and you begin to read your Bible, there’s this idea in the church that there is a hard line between practical and theological—like you are either learning facts about the Bible or you are living your life. I love facts. I enjoy history and trivia, but what I began to realize is that the study of Scripture is not passive. It changes me.

The more I fill my mind with it and root my life in its teachings, what feels like the passive acquiring of facts actually has an active power. It changes the way I live and the way I interact with people. A tree that draws from an abundant water source will look and act differently from one that is far from water.

When we see ourselves as part of the garden of God, Scripture uses this imagery repeatedly. People are described as trees. Nebuchadnezzar is cut down as a bad tree. The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed that grows into a great tree. When I put this into practice, I see a tree as a picture of what it means to follow God. A tree provides shelter for others and produces fruit that does not benefit itself.

If a tree did not produce fruit, it would actually be healthier—it would have more energy to grow. But fruit exists for others. It is outward-facing. That shapes how I see my life—as a channel for blessing. When the Psalms describe a person as a tree planted by streams of water, that’s what we are meant to be.

Studying the Bible is not just about gaining knowledge. It changes how I interact with people, how I view my resources, my time, and my community. Are people a burden, or are they opportunities for investment? There is a difference in how we see ourselves once we are filled with the word of God. I don’t see Bible study as passive. It changes the very flavor of my life.

One of the things I remember from childhood is the role of coffee and tea in our home. Kids weren’t allowed to have it, so I wanted it. I loved the smell, and eventually there was a moment when I was old enough to sit and drink coffee with the adults. It tasted terrible, but I wasn’t going to say that.

Coffee is made by letting hot water sit with the beans. The longer it remains in that environment, the more it changes. It is still water, but it becomes something different. In the same way, if I have knowledge of Scripture but lack love, I am a sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. I am not participating in what God intends.

This is about whether we are walking in the way God intended. Many pastors fall into the trap of tyranny or narcissism because leadership can become a means of power. That is why Scripture gives clear instructions for what a leader should be—not just in the church, but in life. A follower of Jesus is meant to be a gardener, someone who brings about growth in others.

The only way to do that is to have deep roots and be nourished from a healthy source. This is why reading is important. We need exposure to other voices, even those outside our echo chamber, not just people who affirm everything we say, but those who challenge us and help us grow.

Anthony Delgado: Yeah, absolutely. I love the coffee analogy. We drink a fair amount of coffee, but we go through a lot of tea at our house. I’ve often compared reading Scripture to people who dip versus people who steep. I’m the kind of person who puts an Earl Grey tea bag in, adds sugar and cream, makes a big cup, and waits ten minutes before drinking it, leaving the tea bag in so the last sips are strong. I want to get everything out of it.

Other people just dip—dip, get a little color, and move on. In the analogy, the dippers are the people who show up on Sunday, hear the Scripture, like what they hear, and learn something. They are colored by the word of God. But the steepers take notes, go home, pray over them, and bring what they learned into daily life. The way we teach our church to pray comes from our liturgy, so they take that home and incorporate it into their prayer life.

When you do that work, you become saturated in Scripture. You read the Bible itself and other books that flow out of it. You become the kind of person who can recognize when something isn’t quite right and ask how it aligns with Scripture. That’s not just for pastors. Many church members know the Bible so well it keeps me on my toes on a Sunday morning, and that’s a good thing.

I love the way this book works. The title is fitting because agrarian imagery points us back to Eden, and that theme saturates the whole Bible. In a way, the book can become a kind of hermeneutic, a lens through which people begin to read Scripture. As they go back into the Bible—even into places like Chronicles—they start to see these images come together. The whole Bible is driving at the same ideas.

Jon Dillon: The Bible has a great motif of trees that runs through the whole story. It’s famously short on details—we don’t know what Moses looked like or everyday things about people’s lives—so when it gives details, it does so on purpose. When it tells you there’s a tree, there’s a reason.

Take Abraham. He meets with a leader from the Canaanite community, settles a dispute at Beersheba, and to mark the peace treaty, he plants a tree. It’s a beautiful way of establishing something that lasts across generations. Abraham’s story repeatedly involves trees—the oaks of Mamre, places of encounter and significance. Moses meets God at the burning bush. The patriarchs encounter God at these locations. The only patriarch who does not have a significant moment at a tree is Joseph.

Anthony Delgado: Mm-hmm.

Jon Dillon: Joseph is described as a fruitful bough, a tree that runs over the garden wall. So he is a tree. This becomes a hermeneutic. For people in an agrarian culture like Israel, trees were sources of wealth and generational blessing. Fruit didn’t come from grocery stores—it came from trees. There are even laws in the Torah about how to treat trees when attacking a city.

For a modern reader, we have to adopt an ancient way of seeing life when we read the Bible because it is an ancient book. On the Two Trees Podcast, that’s what we focus on. I’ve been deeply impacted by this way of reading. The Bible Project has some great material on the use of trees in Scripture. Even though Eden is not mentioned often, its imagery lingers throughout the biblical narrative. By the end of the Bible, the tree of life is present again, with a river flowing from the throne of God—you return to an Eden-like state. So it is an agrarian way of life, but also a consistent biblical theme.

Anthony Delgado: Yeah, absolutely. I found your podcast early on, maybe when you were only a few episodes in, and I don’t think I’ve missed one since. It was around the time when Michael Heiser passed, or shortly before—I don’t remember exactly—but your podcast filled a space that was missing when the Naked Bible Podcast stopped producing new episodes. I often recommend your podcast to people who are looking for something similar.

You approach things more pastorally, but you still help people think critically about Scripture, giving historical background and etymology to deepen understanding. I really appreciate that. You’ve had me on your podcast a couple of times, so it’s great to have you on mine now.

Jon Dillon: It’s good to talk with you. Our podcast started after Dr. Heiser passed. I was a huge fan of the Naked Bible Podcast. At first, my dad gave me The Unseen Realm and asked if the author was right. I read it and thought he wasn’t, but I couldn’t explain why. Eventually, I had to change my mind—he was right.

I spent years listening and learning from him. When he was dying, he sent a letter to his listeners saying he had done what he could, and others needed to continue the work. I took that to heart. I’m not Dr. Heiser—I would step aside immediately if he were still teaching—but I will use what I have to help. The Two Trees Podcast is our way of participating in that conversation, not replacing it.

Anthony Delgado: That’s exactly what the Biblical Re-Enchantment podcast is doing as well. I had a previous podcast called Theology with Feet, focused on applying theology to daily life. When I started this one, it was for the same reason—to continue the work and conversation that Dr. Heiser encouraged others to carry forward.

We haven’t been as consistent with episodes, but of the podcasts that have emerged, I’ve really appreciated yours. I’ve tried many of them, and yours stands out. I commend it to my listeners.

Let’s go back to the book for a moment. Was there a specific moment or experience that planted the seed for The Way of Eden?

Jon Dillon: Yes, and it wasn’t a book for a long time. It started as conversations with Rose and Martin, my co-hosts on the podcast. Rose doesn’t accept vague answers—she wants a fully formed, thoughtful response. Martin always asks, “So what?”—he wants application.

I knew the Bible talks about Eden throughout the whole narrative, and that this imagery shapes how I read Scripture. I wanted to explain why that matters. So I started writing my thoughts down, originally like a long message to them. Then it became an article, then another, and eventually I realized I had ten things to say. That became ten chapters, and I put it out for others to read.

If people read it, that’s great. If they don’t, I was able to answer the questions of two friends and serve my community, and that was my goal.

Anthony Delgado: That’s so cool. I love it because I have a similar story with how The Gospel is Bigger than You Think came together. It started as conversations, then became an article. I had three paragraphs for what are now full chapters, and it wasn’t sufficient. Some people read it online at one point, and then I decided to preach a sermon series on it to develop the ideas further. I started turning it into a book, then did the sermon series, and then came back to the book. It came together organically.

You can often tell when a book starts with an idea and then forces content into it. Your book doesn’t feel like that. It feels like an honest exploration of Scripture, worked out over time. That’s what makes a good book. Many of the best ones come together that way.

Jon Dillon: It was a lot of fun writing it. It was challenging, but I enjoyed it, and I would do it again.

Anthony Delgado: I hope so. You can’t do that to people—if it wasn’t good, I wouldn’t care if you wrote another one. But I enjoyed it, so I’m looking forward to what you do next. It doesn’t have to be next year, but I’m looking forward to it.

Let me ask a question I like to ask, even though I don’t like being asked it. If people could take away one idea from this book, what would it be?

Jon Dillon: Love God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself. That’s what we are trying to do. This is more than the accumulation of facts. It is becoming a community that lives out the love of God. We shouldn’t be disconnected from the Bible, and we shouldn’t be disconnected from our communities.

God made you on purpose and for a purpose, and he has placed you where you are. You need to cultivate that place. Worship the Lord through study and service, and find ways to show Christ to your community. In the end, the book is about resisting darkness and becoming a force of life and goodness wherever you live.

Anthony Delgado: Becoming who we were created to be. I love that.

Before we wrap up, I’ll include links to the book and the podcast so people can find your work and reach out. Is there anything else you’d like to share before we close?

Jon Dillon: I’d just like to thank anyone who has picked up the book, and thank you, Anthony. You wrote the review on the back, and that meant a lot. Thank you for investing in my ministry. I pray God’s grace and peace over you and everyone listening.

Anthony Delgado: We appreciate you as well and pray that same blessing over your life, your church, your ministry, and your family. For everyone listening, Christ is king, and that changes everything. God bless.

Jon Dillon: Amen.