It is death that deserves derision, not the disciple who reaches through sorrow for his Lord.
Illness is not romantic. It is not a test, a metaphor, nor a blessing in disguise.
The unity of God’s people is grounded not in lineage nor land but in the promise of the coming Christ.

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I’ve experienced firsthand the promise that God never leaves a congregation empty-handed.
It makes perfect sense that the day honoring Jesus' birth would be observed in a decidedly less than refined manner.
Christ has come to make every last aspect of your life the object of his eternal, never-ending, always transitive grace.
At its heart, this is what Deacon King Kong is all about: the paradox of Jesus carving his victory out of the last thing we expect, not our triumphs but our defeats.
It is in your lows where Christ has hidden his highest high, eternal life itself.
One could reason that God might, at least, give the church a little worldly power.
The gospel fires up within us the gratitude, joy, and love to pull off what the law never could get us to do.
When it comes to God’s word, our help only obscures his power and grace.