Christmas is not for remembering, thinking, pondering, trying to make sure you are really celebrating it properly, or for wondering whether you truly have faith.
Merry Christmas, Christ has spoken, and his verdict stands.
The anticipation of Advent is supposed to build us up, not make us exhausted.

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The only recourse we have is to die before we die. To give up on a fake-life. To acknowledge that this stupid, selfish game we’re playing with our immortality projects has zero success.
The world doesn’t need dads who are more stressed than they already are. It needs fathers who care for their families, not in heroic ways, but in common, everyday ways.
This rather unique human being is God grounded in our humanity. The man Jesus.
This coming Sunday churches around the world will celebrate the big, splashy day of Pentecost. As well they should.
He has given you clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home—as well as grocery stores, carpenters, and farmers to provide those goods.
The church’s worship should boldly and explicitly do two things: confess the incarnation and practice for the resurrection.
Some form of the Rule of Benedict will not save or reinvigorate the church. The church already has what the church needs to do her work in the world: she has the Gospel.
He was providentially injecting streams of light into the darkness, that thereby he might lead them toward the true light of Christ.
You may be surprised to discover that, rather than changing your theology, these other voices deepen and expand it in ways that never would have happened if you listened only to the “approved” voices.
We pray for God to deliver us from ourselves. To forgive us, for Jesus’s sake, when we do evil.
Christianity is not a solo endeavor. Not a private relationship between Jesus and me.
Yes, when we die, we believe that we go to be with Jesus in a paradise called heaven. But that’s only a vacation destination, as it were.