Perhaps God always intended for Bucer to use his unique skill set to unite people, acting as a bridge between movements centered on the recovery of the gospel.
Protestants, in my view, don’t suffer from a Goldilocks problem. They have an arrogance problem.
We need redemption, and we receive it in our church community through God’s Word.

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For many, there are days when they’re as excited about going to work on Sunday morning as you are about going to work on Monday morning.
We hang on to our sins not despite the fact that they hurt, but precisely because they do hurt. We need to hurt, to fret over them, to cry over them, to make amends over them, because by doing so, we will grease the wheels of God’s forgiveness.
I looked up at the cross and saw what God had become to bring me home. He had become what I was.
What is really good for the soul is not so much confession as absolution. If confession is us telling the truth about ourselves to God, then absolution is God telling us a truer truth about ourselves.
When God is at work, oftentimes the best activity is non-activity, the best speech is non-speech. Sometimes God wants us to shut up.
Believe in God, belong to a church, and behave yourself isn’t the Gospel.
As with so many things, regret can begin as something natural, even beneficial, as you struggle to recover from a wound in your past. But over time, regret can devolve from a sadness to a sickness.
During my many journeys to Japan, I discovered that more than a quarter millennium after his death Bach is now playing a key role in evangelizing that country, one of the most secularized nations in the developed world.
All other subjects—even Biblical subjects—were subservient to an accurate view of the Person and work of Jesus Christ for sinners.
I know now that to “forgive yourself” is not only impossible; it is foolish, dangerous, and futile. It is the vain attempt of a soul plagued by guilt to seek relief in the very last place he should be looking: in himself.
The manna God provides is never tasty enough. God never lives up to your expectations. So silently or audibly you wish for an easier way.
I’m still piecing together fragments. I’ve spent my life collecting scraps of personal stories that will explain my father to me.