One might say that the first statement of the Reformation was that a saint never stops repenting.
Wisdom and strength require bootstrap-pulling and the placing of noses to grindstones.
“If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36).

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I always imagined dying a faithful death for Christ would mean burning at the stake. Now, I suspect it will mean dying in my bed of natural causes.
What I was missing—what so many are missing—is a Church that doesn’t just speak about Christ, but delivers him.
So Christ is risen, but what now?
The baptized do not celebrate sin—they grieve it.
The ascension is not about Jesus going away. It's about Jesus taking his rightful place so that he might fill the world with his presence and power.
The Church needs mystics again. Not fringe figures, but saints ablaze with love.
When you remember your baptism, you're not recalling a ritual. You're standing under a current of divine action that has not ceased to flow since the moment those baptismal waters hit your skin.
The women at the tomb were surprised by Easter. Amazed and filled with wonder at Jesus' Easter eucatastrophe. And so are we.
Christ does not hide his wounds. He offers them.
If you struggle with doubt, take heart: You are not alone.
Do it again, God,” rings the psalmist’s appeal.
It's one thing to hope for a new reality; it's quite another to stand before it, no matter how wonderful.