When we despair of ourselves, we repent of these self-justifying schemes and allow ourselves to be shaped by God, covered in Christ’s righteousness, and reborn with a new heart.
This is the first in a series of articles entitled “Getting Over Yourself for Lent.” We’ll have a new article every week of this Lenten Season.
We can’t remove our crosses or the reality of our deaths. Only Jesus can.

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We can’t remove our crosses or the reality of our deaths. Only Jesus can.
People everywhere, every day, feel God’s wrath—and not as merely an afterlife threat but as a present reality.
Baptism does not promise us chocolates or flowers, but something far greater: life in Christ.
The Bible isn’t a set of moral examples or religious insights. It’s the record of God’s saving work, fulfilled in Christ, delivered now through words spoken and heard.
We believe in a Savior who raises the dead: this is why the church is the one place on earth that can speak plainly about abortion without collapsing into despair.
American religion did not become optional because the gospel failed. It became optional because religion slowly redefined itself around usefulness.
Bringing your family to church to receive “the one thing needful” (Luke 10:42) in Word and Sacrament honors and pleases God.
His provision always flows downward, furnishing and filling us with his grace and truth right where we are.
The crisis is not merely that people are leaving. The crisis is that we have relinquished what is uniquely Lutheran and deeply needed.
The ethos of the church’s worship is found in poor, needy, and desperate sinners finding solace and relief in the God of their salvation.
Wake Up Dead Man is not ultimately a story about mystery, exposure, or even justice. It is a story about what happens when mercy speaks to death—and death listens.
Christmas is not only about a cradle in Bethlehem, it’s also about a cross outside Jerusalem where salvation was won for us.