From creative storytelling (see any of Jesus’ parables) to hymn-singing to poetry slams, God’s revelation refuses the confines of any single genre. The world beyond the wardrobe demands some serious attention, and Christians are uniquely qualified to give it just that.
Christ does not replace or erase the history of the Old Testament. He brings it to its fullness. The historical fulfillments demonstrate God's faithfulness in their own time and also bear witness to the greater fulfillment accomplished in Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ is the Ark of the New Covenant. He is our place of atonement, our mercy seat. He puts a lid on the righteousness that might otherwise condemn us by offering his very self in our stead on the cross.

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The reason the U.S. is blessed by God is that we are essentially a “good” nation. And this is the root of Bob’s problem (and that of all civil religion).
No worry, no fear. Nothing she can do can separate her from the love of Christ!
All the verbs of our salvation are passive. God calls and gathers people to him through his Gospel.
Advent accents preaching, making known that it is the Lord who comes to bring salvation, to proclaim this in all the earth.
My Grandmother recently lost a long battle with cancer. Her name was Joy, and a name has never been more fitting.
We need a God who can heal us of true guilt and false guilt. We need a Christ who not only removes the shame we feel for what we’ve done, but who washes away the shame that others have smeared upon us.
A Roman execution device isn't exactly a picturesque scene of divine love on display.
Hope doesn’t bury its head in the sand but stares, open-eyed, into the truth of this life’s worst horror, and says, “I know the God who went through something even worse, and came out on top.
As I was reading Romans 7 today, I was reminded of a pivotal scene in one of my favorite movies, As Good As it Gets.
Nicodemus, like us, does not really have phantoms and dragons in his head. He has just one demon, one virus, one malady: he lives in fear.
That’s where a true encounter with God leaves you. Unable to point the finger at anyone else, all you can do is fall on your face, confess your sin, be absolved, and join the angels in singing, “Holy, holy, holy.”
What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with God? And what words, then, do I pray?