Christian faith is never a solitary possession. When the congregation confesses, the old speak for the young, the strong for the weak, and the clear-voiced for the trembling.
Living by faith has never been about what we bring to the table. It has always been, and always will be, about what God does for us when we can’t do anything for ourselves.
The entire history of Protestantism is downstream of a goldsmith in Mainz figuring out how to cast identical pieces of lead type in less than a minute.

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There is a revival, no less real and even more definitive, taking place in every church, every weekend, where God’s people gather around his gifts.
We too are God’s baptized, beloved, blood-bought believers. And no one can ever take that away from us.
Predestination, Jim knew, is no longer a frightening doctrine of mystery when you understand that God makes his choice about you in the simple word of God, given from one sinner to another.
Christ our Word, as with a two-edged sword, burst the devil's belly.
I think the problem with the idea of eternity is that we do not have any direct experience of it, but we encounter enough of its possibility to be unsettling.
The king has arrived and has already begun his reign forever and ever.
God the Father sent us – his wayward, sinful, and naughty children – his own series of Father Christmas Letters.
The lesson of Malachi reveals God’s love for his people. When the people ask for proof of God’s love, he reminds them of their election.
O weary ones, O long-time waiting and watching ones, O ones who are late to the game, he is your rest this busy season, and always.
We will not become hopeless because the Lord is with us.
We ache in eager anticipation as we see Christ in action and as we take in the snapshots of his life, death, and resurrection.
Help comes for those who cannot help themselves. When we bottom-out and come to the end of ourselves, that is where hope springs.