Yahweh who is pierced and mourned in prophecy is Jesus who is pierced and mourned in fulfillment.
There is indeed a responsibility for the church to share the gospel in the world, but never at the expense of the church’s charity and mercy for those neighbors who are nearby.
The only hope for idol-addicted sinners who are utterly incapable of decluttering their souls is Jesus, the one at the heart of the gospel, and the only one who stands before the Father with an undivided heart.

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One of the most famous things Jesus ever said was “Follow me.” He said it over and over. So much that it was recorded more than twenty times in the New Testament.
I’m going to begin at the beginning. But which one? Birth? Kindergarten? My first drink? The first time I had sex?
Even “our faith” is a gift from God’s fatherly hand. Our performance, desire, and perseverance do not factor into God’s will for us.
Jesus loves His church. He cleans her up. He takes her as His own. And He leads her.
Our little congregation is part of a much larger church—the body of Christ, both here on earth as well as in heaven. And that church worships 24/7, never ceasing in its adoration of Jesus our Savior.
“Christ is pretty ok doing all the redeeming that needs doing Himself—and He has redeemed you, and redeemed me.
There’s a lot of family drama from Thanksgiving through New Years.
The empty space in our hearts that we try to fill with stuff is filled only by the Maker of all things. An iPhone won’t fill that gap. Only a crucified and resurrected God fits in there.
Over the last few weeks it’s been painful and disappointing to hear the stories of victims that have been abused and assaulted by powerful celebrities, executives, and politicians.
In Christ, the Word become flesh, this is a concrete, real fact. It is the bedrock foundation of the Gospel.
In Christ, God is not angry, but is your tender Father Who loves you with an everlasting love.
We strive, in short, to master the art of swatting mosquitoes. And all the while, we remain blind to the fact that in pulpit after pulpit, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is as rare as Merry Christmas inside a synagogue.