When we despair of ourselves, we repent of these self-justifying schemes and allow ourselves to be shaped by God, covered in Christ’s righteousness, and reborn with a new heart.
This is the first in a series of articles entitled “Getting Over Yourself for Lent.” We’ll have a new article every week of this Lenten Season.
We can’t remove our crosses or the reality of our deaths. Only Jesus can.

All Articles

Is it possible to take a cyber approach to the season of Lent? I do not think so.
God preserves language so he might continue to communicate his love and grace to us, and that we might communicate his love and grace to others.
When it comes to the Book of Concord, there are really two types of people: those who read the contents and see a series of rap albums, and those who aren’t Flame.
The place where it is most difficult for us to accept God’s will is when suffering, calamities, and finally, death itself.
The “Word” isn’t a thing, it is a person, the Son of the Father, who with the Holy Spirit is one God.
The Bible is a book for the desperate. That is its target audience. Recognizing our desperation readies us to hear the consolation that only God’s Word can offer.
The forgiveness of your sins and your reconciliation with God the Father courtesy of Christ’s cross and blood is gifted to you, for you.
The kingdom of God has a proper name, and his name is Jesus, Son of God, Son of Man.
This is an excerpt from “A Lutheran Toolkit” written by Ken Sundet Jones (1517 Publishing, 2021), pgs. 23-25.
John T. Pless has prepared a midweek Lenten sermon series that will fix our eyes on the saving work of the triune God. Based on Martin Luther’s hymn “Dear Christians One and All Rejoice,” this series will provide preachers an opportunity to proclaim the saving work of God to their hearers throughout the season of Lent.
From the womb to the tomb, from the cradle to the grave, Jesus’ name defines and describes who he is and what he is all about.
As a parent listens for the cry of a hurting child, our heavenly Father waits for our cry of weal and woe.