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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The message is clear and assuring—the Word of God does what it says it will do!
The following is an excerpt from Adam Fransisco’s chapter in “Who Am I?” edited by Scott Ashmon (1517 Publishing, 2020).
Ever since the tragedy of the Garden, God’s plan of redemption has been in motion. His movement upon this world has never ceased, and it never will.
When we are hurt, we cry out to God. But sometimes when the hurt gets really intense, our lament turns to complaint. Not only is this normal, but almost every lament in scripture contains a complaint.
Comfort is not a platitude; it is a promise. A promise from our God who left his place of glory and died a sinner’s death for poor sinners.
The people gathered in Jerusalem that day were making a bold statement of faith. They believed Jesus was the New David.
Paul has gone through all this explanation to belabor the point: The incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ changes everything.
Jesus did not come to be first. He came to be faithful, faithful to His Father’s mission for you.
The following is an excerpt from Ken Sundet Jones’ chapter in “Who Am I?” written by Scott Ashmon (1517 Publishing, 2020).
He would not go back on his word, for his word is the word of the Father and the Spirit, and they all say “come.”
God is not an impassive monster who is unfamiliar with our horrendous ailments. Rather, in Christ, God familiarizes himself with our suffering and becomes particularly attuned to the fragility of fallen humanity.
The kingdom I seek is the lower-case realm ruled over by the almighty upper-case Me.