Let us live by walking with Jesus, so that our Neo-Pagan neighbors, the witch, and frankly a lot of us Christians, can put down our crystals, our superstitions, our vision boards, and our bound sage in order to live out a liturgy of life, with rituals, practices, and behaviors that reflect who we are as followers of Christ.
As Jesus hung on the cross there would be no last second escape. No Greek goddess would swoop in to rescue him. He suffered alone. And yet even in that suffering he declared his victory on the spiritual battlefield to be your victory.
God can handle grief, rage, and cries for justice. God can handle the victim who cannot yet forgive. God can handle the prayer that comes out jagged and wounded. The good news is that God is holy and merciful enough to handle all our prayers.

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We are so free as Christians that we don't even have to compare ourselves to other Christians.
The Father knows our needs because he knows everything. This is a comforting thought, but only if He is gracious.
Martin Luther is not–or, at least should not–be the object of our affection.
It is a strange irony, but in a world drunk on violence, it is only on the cross of violence that there is hope for peace in our world.
Here, we read the mystery and majesty of the incarnation of the Son of God wrapped up into a single package
Pain is our birthright, but Jesus’ resurrection is our irrevocable end.
Indeed, baptism is life because resurrection is life. Nothing short of regeneration—renewal of life—is accomplished by God through sheer grace because of Christ Jesus.
Jesus names what life does not consist of, and in doing so he gets to something near and dear to our hearts as Americans—our possessions.
Everything was perfectly teed up to move the needle on the baptism metric, but I just couldn’t do it. I told her she shouldn't get baptized.
The following is a Question and Answer session with author and pastor Donavon Riley where we talk about his latest book, “Crucifying Religion: How Jesus is the End of Religion”.
Death can make us feel like tourists or strangers traveling across the landscape of someone else’s life.