The reason Christians argue so much about the sacraments is because, deep down, they matter.
Treweek points us to the happy ending to come in eternity, when the entire church will be married to her Redeemer.
I realized I had long and drastically underestimated the depth and vitality of the Christian intellectual tradition.

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We’re all familiar with the “outrage” in our culture about the trend in youth sports to award “participation trophies.”
God preaches a concrete word to us in the present tense. We hear the Good News that Jesus is God’s mercy for us.
Never has the law fallen so hard on me as in motherhood. Never before was I more aware that my best wasn’t good enough.
I can pretend for a little bit, but as soon as the phone is put away and it’s just me and my sin, I am fearful about what my walk says about me. I know what I should do, but I can’t quite seem to do it.
Life is certainly unfair. But in Christ, at least in part, we rejoice at such a notion. Grace, that great descriptor of God’s devotion, is a word that only finds its purpose, only exists at all, because it exists as a response to guilt.
When those who are serving joyfully and willingly are instead encouraged to complain that they are carrying the load for the rest of the body, all hope is lost.
In the first few years after God saved me I saw sin as this unfortunate parasite that was slowly sucking the life out of me.
Jesus dies for the sin of the world. That means he dies for the person who disappoints us. He shed His blood for the person who doesn’t love us the way we want to be loved.
Writer’s Block, however, entertains no such fantasies. It goes straight for my ego’s jugular and pounds home the fact that I’m not good enough.
The Gospel is simple to confess. That is, we are justified by faith alone, through Christ alone, without the works of the Law.
All other wonderful teachings of Holy Scripture from creation to Christ’s coming again are absolutely worthless without being understood in light of Jesus, death, and resurrection for sinners.
The force of our love is violent. It is love acted out as, “I will love you in a way that’s best for me, and you’ll like it, and celebrate it, and reward me for it.