People everywhere, every day, feel God’s wrath—and not as merely an afterlife threat but as a present reality.
Faith, for Peter, is not suspended in religious abstraction. It is tied to something that happened in time and space.
Baptism does not promise us chocolates or flowers, but something far greater: life in Christ.

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People everywhere, every day, feel God’s wrath—and not as merely an afterlife threat but as a present reality.
When Dostoevsky died on February 9, 1881, he left behind novels that refuse to flatter the reader or simplify the human condition.
His provision always flows downward, furnishing and filling us with his grace and truth right where we are.
The story of your life stretches beyond the dash on the tombstone.
Merry Christmas, Christ has spoken, and his verdict stands.
It is death that deserves derision, not the disciple who reaches through sorrow for his Lord.
The Christian answer to death is not a disembodied app, but a bodily resurrection.
On this, the birthday of Martin Luther, I will pause to thank God for his birth.
The testimony of the Word assures us that God isn’t waiting for us at the top of the stairs, with arms folded and brows furrowed.
Just like Peter, you don’t need to do anything to earn God’s forgiveness for your soul wounds.
We can lay down our sledgehammers of moralistic performance, which aren’t effective anyway, and we can trust that we are his and his life is ours.
Election is not a riddle to solve. It’s a pillow to rest your head on at night.