“The Church exists to tell anyone and everyone who knocks on her door wondering what’s inside: Come and see” (pg. 58). Such reminders make The Church a worthwhile read.
The way of the cross is the actual way of victory. Jesus absorbs the worst of what humanity and even the devil can do to him, and he spurns the shame of it all.
The IRS says churches can endorse candidates from the pulpit. But just because they can doesn’t mean they should.

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The real Jesus isn’t trapped inside a church’s ATM. He’s smack dab in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, laughing and loving you with a crazy grace that already filled your bank account with millions.
One of my favorite things to do in the summer is read out under the shade of my backyard tree. There, I have a reclining chair and small little side table.
It’s a subject that for some comes up every 4th of July. How does the American Revolution square with Romans 13?
Abraham didn’t understand God very well (at least not early on). I don’t say that as a dig against the Patriarch. I don’t think any of us understand God very well either.
If God is God, He doesn’t need anyone to defend Him. Nor does He need anyone to march for Him.
As long as we hold tight to a life that was never ours to possess in the first place, so long as we refuse to lay down our life so others can live, Jesus can't do a thing for us.
God in Jesus takes off your shirt of shame, your bitterness, your anger, your guilt, your hopelessness, and drapes these rags on himself.
If affairs always begin by believing lies, then repentance always begins by believing the truth: the truth that you are in the wrong, the truth that you have a God who loves you in Jesus Christ, and the truth that he and he alone can save you not only from adultery but from every sin that seeks to lead you down the path of destruction.
As Wonder Woman hit theatres earlier this month and the reviews poured in, many of them carried the same sentiment: she’s the only hero in the DCEU thus far who hasn’t induced mixed feelings from the fans of the genre but instead has received near universal applause for getting the character right.
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.
That week, I began to doubt myself. Did I really believe?
What if I just hadn’t repented enough? Or prayed enough? Or really, really given my whole heart to Jesus? What if I just wasn’t ready?