Do not disregard Luther’s early disputations, but appreciate their specificity and recognize their pastoral and theological continuity with his later works.
The heavens are neither geocentric, nor even heliocentric, but Christocentric. It is the cross and the crucified and risen Jesus who has the whole world, and each of us, in his nail scarred hands.
Humanity, despite our best efforts, cannot answer the question as to why God allows evil to occur.

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In elementary school, children are taught that America was a destination for Christians in search of religious freedom. But that’s not the truth.
You have been invited to bring God’s grace to people who are dying for want of it.
If there is no resurrection, then we have no true hope, and the arts above all vocations would be the folly of follies.
In an age when families are already fractured beyond comprehension, are we seriously going to separate parents from children in the one service in which God himself is present to unite us to himself and one another?
The greatest joy of Lent is failing at it only to find Jesus has already done it for us.
God’s grace and freedom announces the truth to us about ourselves. We need a real Savior.
Whenever I read the Genesis account of Abraham, I’m more impressed that he’s often a clumsy, mess of a man than that it’s “faith that’s accounted to him as righteousness.”
The victory of Christ is hidden in the crosses we bear as Christians following Him to our own personal Golgothas.
God is for us in His foolish, scarred Word and Wisdom. Nothing is against us, nothing can separate us from the love of Christ.
Jesus went on ahead and took our cross, our sins of poor discipleship, our weak faith, our rebellion against God’s command.
We all look forward to Lent’s conclusion and the celebration of Resurrection Sunday. This is the Sunday of victory and joy as the Church enters into the reality that Christ has defeated death and hell, declared victory over such enemies and set history on its final course of consummation.
Give us eyes to see the face of Jesus in that little child wriggling in front of us, tugging at his mom’s sleeve, wanting a drink of water.