When you step into the Lord’s house, he gives you a liturgical imagination to see with eyes of faith all of his goodness and grace.
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.

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I’m going to begin at the beginning. But which one? Birth? Kindergarten? My first drink? The first time I had sex?
For God, the only way He acts as Judge and Justifier for us is through Christ Jesus Who dies for sinners.
Nostalgia is a powerful emotion. It can get ahold of a person and turn him all the way in on himself.
The words “gift of righteousness” will bring about two completely polar opposite feelings: One of Dread. One of Relief.
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.
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.
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.
Growing up, I dreaded the first Sunday of each quarter. Every time during the evening service, we would have Lord’s Supper after the sermon.
His forgiveness gives us the courage to watch out for our neighbor in both the present and the future, and to act with wisdom while understanding failures are still ahead.
“Obey God and he will bless you,” says the wind and the reed is bent over and bruised throughout. “God will never stop loving you but you can disappoint him,” says the wind and the once lit candle is now a sad smoldering wick.