The Pharisee valued fasting and giving tithes, but could not find value in his fellow sinner.
God is not a tool in our hands. He does not exist to serve our goals, our metrics, or our platforms.
The gospel isn’t for the strong but people who know they aren’t.

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Just like that, the crowd dissipated. Jesus’ words pierced like a bright light through their foggy misconceptions. The Hungry mouths that touched, chewed, and swallowed a miracle, were now brimming with grumbling.
The table is full-laden; feast ye all sumptuously. The calf is fatted; let no one go hungry away.
Sometimes, I wish I was much older. Old enough to realize that my best, most influential, and productive days are behind me so that I could speak completely and openly about my life, my triumphs, and most of all, my struggles.
Last year, a friend I follow tweeted, “Calling yourself a sinner is spitting on all the work that Jesus did to make you a saint.”
According to Martin Luther, it is human nature is a little like a drunkard trying to ride a horse.
The story did not end with Jesus' death and resurrection, or even with the Acts of the Apostles.
He barely wakes to find himself nearly dead; even so, he can’t feel a thing.
Salvation starts in being a sinner and knowing it because that's where God starts salvation, in making "Him to be Sin who knew no sin."
God’s Son is infinitely more than our fragile egos have flattened him out to be.
It is the strangest of morgues—people arrive dead as doornails and leave alive.
My eyes soaked in the midnight view. Stars crowded the sky.
Old Testament narratives foreshadowed the gifts that our Father gives us in baptism.