The thief is the prophetic picture of all of us, staring hopelessly hopeful at the Son of God, begging to hear the same words.
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.

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The word which typifies my understanding of what makes male friendships so central to the concept of masculinity is philia.
We want to know how God rules this world, how he is present in all things, how he exerts his control over the course of world events. We want to know why some get cancer and some don’t, why terrible things happen to the best of people, why volcanoes erupt and hurricanes strike and fires consume.
Over the last 11 months I’ve spent the bulk of my time working to plant a church in New York City.
When we explain away God’s Word, we jettison the reality of our ominous diagnosis in the “Thou shall/shall nots” of the law, and with it the sweet cure in the, “This is My body/blood” of the Gospel.
One of the things you get used to if you talk about this thing called “grace” often enough, is sooner or later you’ll be looked down on by your peers.
One thing is for certain: my day was heaven compared to his. My minor headaches nothing compared to whatever he was going through.
We can leave all the stuff of life behind, because our great treasure God flaunts before the world on Calvary.
Years ago a pastor friend of mine who felt betrayed by someone he trusted told me that he was under no biblical obligation to forgive his betrayer unless and until he asked for forgiveness.
The Christian faith makes a bold claim: We are the world's problem, but we are not the world's solution.
It seems that no matter where we look in this world, we never quite find what we really need.
We treat the Scriptures as if they’re our literary property to toy with as we please.
Attacked by sin, robbed by Satan, lacerated by death—there we lay, unable to help ourselves. Yet He helps us who can never help ourselves.