The Church speaks not with the cleverness of men, but with the breath of God.
I always imagined dying a faithful death for Christ would mean burning at the stake. Now, I suspect it will mean dying in my bed of natural causes.
How many times in our lifetime must we sigh, floundering through this world with our sins, sorrows, struggles, frustrations, fears, and foes?

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The side of God he has made known to us is Jesus. He is the one and only revelation of the Father, the one and only revelation we need.
We need pastors who carry that same concealed weapon in their mouths, who are outfitted with the same word the angels have: the word steeped in divine blood, shed for you. That is all we need, for the word does it all.
Imagine if Zacchaeus posted on Jerusalem's Facebook a selfie with Jesus. The top dog among the tax-gougers with Christ at his dinner table. Oh, the outrage! The puritanical zealots would have been tweeting and blogging about it for months.
We find such a temptation when the devil causes us to question God’s election or predestination of us in “eternity as a past event” (i.e. “eternity-past”).
Real theologians can’t shut up about who Jesus is and what he’s done on your behalf. So-called theologians with little interest in Jesus may be book smart but they're Gospel stupid.
So, what do we do when someone doesn't believe God's promise of forgiveness, life, and eternal salvation is for him?
Although I was too young to have mastered the skill of lying, I also knew that I couldn’t tell this woman the truth.
God’s desire that all be saved led him to pay the price by which all are saved, all are justified.
Over the last 11 months I’ve spent the bulk of my time working to plant a church in New York City.
He lavishly pours out His rest in the waters of Baptism, in the spoken words of absolution from the pastor’s lips, in the preaching of the cross and resurrection, in the consumption of heavenly cuisine from the table at which He is host and meal.
Looking back, I see that the biggest problem (besides heresy) was that my faith was first about what I did or didn’t do, but it was also intangible and spiritual.
There are many funeral songs I wouldn’t be caught dead singing. Why? Because my funeral will not be about me.