The Solas are not just doctrinal statements. They are the grammar of Christian comfort.
For English speakers, no Reformer comes close to Tyndale in terms of measurable impact.
Christ is your Good Shepherd, and he has given to you eternal life; no one can snatch you from his hand; your salvation is secure and unlost.

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According to the Law, everyone will be judged by their own deeds, on his own work. So, before the judgment of God we only have our own works to boast in and not our neighbor’s. But the Gospel shows us a wonderful exception.
The following is an excerpt from “Crucifying Religion” written by Donavon Riley (1517 Publishing, 2019).
Happiness is a slippery term. We all want it. We're all supposed to pursue it. But nobody seems to know how to obtain it.
Our past, present, and future receive healing from Jesus’ wounds.
It was during one of these garbage burns, however, that I was bathed in a fresh remembrance of grace.
I love apologetics, the art, and science of defending the Christian faith. I love talking about all the philosophical arguments for the existence of God with my skeptical friends.
[This text] describes a journey to a foreign region where Jesus engages in a confrontational conversation with a legion of demons, performs a violent and scandalous exorcism, and leaves behind a community gripped by terror. Apparently, the only thing more frightening than a naked, graveyard-dwelling demoniac is this visitor from Nazareth who reigns over everything.
Baptism demolishes all boasting, for it is passively received and all that is received is pure gift. No one can, therefore, boast a better salvation than another.
Perhaps best known for his “wager,” Pascal is often associated with this curious argument for the existence of God and eternal blessedness.
Naturally each individual forgets the beam in his own eye and perceives only the mote in his neighbor’s. One will not bear with the faults of the other; each requires perfection of his fellow.
They cannot know that I am already a father, but, this side of eternity, I won’t ever meet my child because of a miscarriage.
Shame is shameful. That may seem obvious but ponder this observation from the authors of Scenes of Shame: “Shame, indeed, covers shame itself—it is shameful to express shame.”