No matter how many times we hear this good news, it never stops being good news.
Our faith is precisely where Paul puts it, namely, in the blood of Christ.
Just as trick-or-treaters arrive at doorsteps as beggars, we come to the Lord’s table with nothing to offer but our sin and need for forgiveness.

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When we're under stress, when we're weighed down by responsibilities, and when we feel like nobody cares and no one can help us, we run to God.
One of my jobs in high school was helping local ranchers work cattle. We’d vaccinate, cut off horns, castrate, mark their ears, and brand them.
Martin Luther knew something about economics. Well, God’s economics anyway.
As far back as I can remember, even as a small child, I have desperately tried to understand what God’s expectations or requirements are regarding my behavior.
He looked me straight in the eye and said these words, almost in a challenging way, “I hate God. I do."
The other day a prominent Evangelical pastor tweeted, “My life’s commitment is to talk about the Bible in such a way that fake Christians feel fake — so that they can be saved.”
God’s children spent 40 years wandering in the wilderness. Imagine the hopelessness. Imagine the frustration.
I am a time traveler now. It all started this past Christmas. My son gave my husband and me DNA kits, and the instructions suggested that.
Pastors are built from the same stuff as everyone else. That’s good, and that’s bad.
With these words, Jesus at the same time acknowledges that earthly government is both divinely sanctioned and, at the same time, not to be conflated with the kingdom of God.
Is there ever a time in a Christian’s life when there is less need for grace? Think about it.
I finally climbed all 109 mountains. My journey began out of desperation, fueled by anger, fear, resentment.