Christian faith is never a solitary possession. When the congregation confesses, the old speak for the young, the strong for the weak, and the clear-voiced for the trembling.
Living by faith has never been about what we bring to the table. It has always been, and always will be, about what God does for us when we can’t do anything for ourselves.
The entire history of Protestantism is downstream of a goldsmith in Mainz figuring out how to cast identical pieces of lead type in less than a minute.

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There was a TV show back in the ‘90s called “Dinosaurs” that I used to sneak into the living room at night to watch.
We all do it. It comes naturally to every human being. Since the Fall, every man and woman, every child, everyone imagines he can use experience and knowledge to figure out God.
She was my friend, walking through marriage troubles. Her husband was unfaithful to her, with the technicalities and carefully drawn lines of “not technically sex” and justifying himself, which had wounded her deeply.
True preaching arises when the Holy Spirit steeps the proclaimer in its own cycle of judgment and mercy.
Jesus says that none of our goodness is good enough to pass muster. Likewise, none of our badness is bad enough to propel us outside Jesus’ death for sin.
I saw a beautiful picture of grace yesterday. A real bestowing of favor on someone less deserving.
Did Jesus ever marry? Yes, He married you!
Christians have long enjoyed an absurd love affair with white-washing biblical saints.
I told him that God does not have two types of sheep. God does not have a fold of black, and another white. God only has a fold made up entirely of black sheep because He knows the truth about us.
When I hear the word “repentance” my mind quickly goes to those old terror inducing Chick Tracts.
This is the fifth installment in our special series on Luther’s Heidelberg Disputation. Translation of Theses 9 and 10 by Caleb Keith.
For on the other side of the death of forgiveness is the resurrection of joy. An easter in which we emerge from the tomb in the arms of the man whose scars glow with mercy.