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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First, if this passage from Hebrews 3 shines any further light on the Transfiguration account (Luke 9 is already quite bright!), it’s that on the mountain Jesus is showing us where following Him leads to in the end. No wonder Peter wanted to stay.
You’re not normally an eaves-dropper, and you don’t make it a habit of sticking your nose in other people’s business. But some conversations beg to be overheard. Transfiguration is like that.
The majority of churches still use the traditional eight-sided font. The question I’d like to explore in this post is, “Why?”
We’ve all been there, waiting in line to check out, and the person ahead of us questions the price of something that was just rung up.
Asking, “Do you have to be baptized to be saved?” is really like asking, “Does Jesus have to save you in order for you to be saved?”
When we say “forgiveness,” we mean, “Jesus.” When we say, “righteousness,” we mean, “Jesus.”
Did the Apostle Paul just say that “he fills up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ?" That seems a little at odds with Jesus’ statement, "It is finished."
Christ and the Evangelists, along with saints Peter and Paul, show a deep attachment to the Book of Psalms...it was because the Psalms were about the Messiah, the Christ of God.
The resurrection of Christ is not God’s way of loving the last enemy (15:26). He despises it; defeats it. He makes such a mockery of it that it loses its name among Christians. Death is dead and can no longer be called death, but merely sleep, just a sweet and momentary sleep until the living Christ’s parousia (v. 23).
This week Jesus continues by discussing the behavior of his people. He’s particularly interested in the way his people treat others—especially those who mistreat them. Like last week, the only way to describe it is backwards.
Our American ethos trumpets the ideal of the rugged individual who doesn’t need anyone else. But that’s not only a lie; it’s also the recipe for disaster.
The history of the early Reformation in the New World is both a tale of pirates and the battle of catechisms.