For those Christians who feel the tug to read great literature, know that it is not a waste of your time. These books will only deepen your appreciation for the Scriptures and will open your eyes to a fuller, more profound vision of reality and the God who loves you.
We are invited to entrust everything to the one who accomplished what we could not: living and bleeding and dying and rising again, so that “whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). To put it another way, when it comes to the kingdom of God, there’s no room for DIY’ers. Best leave it to the professionals.
We live in the “already” but “not yet”. Peace is already ours but not yet. The resurrection is already ours but not yet. Justice is already ours but not yet. Until then be comforted by the fact that you are reconciled in Christ on account of his life, death, and resurrection.

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God graciously bursts our foolish plots by coming our way, into our very flesh, and being God with us.
One of the most famous things Jesus ever said was “Follow me.” He said it over and over. So much that it was recorded more than twenty times in the New Testament.
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.
We are all sojourners in a perilous cosmos, what is sometimes conceptualized as the theology of the pilgrim.
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.