Every time someone is baptized, every time bread is broken and wine poured, every time a sinner hears, “Your sins are forgiven in Christ,” Pentecost happens again.
They were still praying, trusting, and hoping. Why? Because they knew who was with them and who was for them: the risen Christ.
So Christ is risen, but what now?

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Well it's simple really. I don't pray enough. I don't mean "enough" in the chronological sense like there is actually a right amount of prayer.
The initial sin, therefore, was not the eating of the forbidden fruit but rather listening to a cynic question and intentionally misinterpret God’s goodness
The prophets of old were right: we do resemble what we revere. Our anthropology is hijacked by materialism. We become just stuff who consume stuff and hope to have enough stuff to make life worth it.
If everyone would just live by the rules, the world would be a better place, wouldn’t it?
When we're under stress, when we're weighed down by responsibilities, and when we feel like nobody cares and no one can help us, we run to God.
One of my jobs in high school was helping local ranchers work cattle. We’d vaccinate, cut off horns, castrate, mark their ears, and brand them.
Martin Luther knew something about economics. Well, God’s economics anyway.
No matter what happens, whether failure, pain, or discouragement, Jesus says, “Come to me... and I will give you rest"
As far back as I can remember, even as a small child, I have desperately tried to understand what God’s expectations or requirements are regarding my behavior.
He looked me straight in the eye and said these words, almost in a challenging way, “I hate God. I do."
The other day a prominent Evangelical pastor tweeted, “My life’s commitment is to talk about the Bible in such a way that fake Christians feel fake — so that they can be saved.”
With these words, Jesus at the same time acknowledges that earthly government is both divinely sanctioned and, at the same time, not to be conflated with the kingdom of God.