Fideistic Christianity may look bold, but it is fragile.
He doesn’t consume us, even though that is what we deserve. Instead, Jesus comes down to us and consumes all our sin by taking it on himself.
This article is the first part of a two-part series. The second part will take a look at when pastors abuse their congregations.

All Articles

Today, I almost died several times.
Years ago I picked up a used copy of Thomas Á Kempis’ Imitation of Christ at a second-hand bookstore.
One of the things you get used to if you talk about this thing called “grace” often enough, is sooner or later you’ll be looked down on by your peers.
It seems that no matter where we look in this world, we never quite find what we really need.
We are continuing our summer series on a theology of worship through the lens of language. Before moving forward, let me highlight a few points by way of review.
One of the interesting things about Paul’s writings that is not noticed enough is that Paul doesn’t really have an “application” section.
Being a Christian is hard because it’s easy.
I am not one of those people who can put together a jigsaw puzzle without using the picture on the box.
The time constrained authoring of the Augustana caused great angst, for the part of Melanchthon that was never satisfied with his own literary output.
Jesus takes that burden away in the “I forgive you and them” and gives us His “light” burden.
Like any language, the liturgy has syntax—a structure that provides order and intelligibly communicates meaning through all that is said.
A crisis of faith always occurs when we begin to believe that God has betrayed us.