Surveying Scripture, it is an immense comfort to know we’re not alone in our sinfulness.
Christian faith is never a solitary possession. When the congregation confesses, the old speak for the young, the strong for the weak, and the clear-voiced for the trembling.
Living by faith has never been about what we bring to the table. It has always been, and always will be, about what God does for us when we can’t do anything for ourselves.

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Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that simple boy. An orange sky warms the deserted streets with the final glow of safe light.
Christ rose from the grave so that the eternal Light of Christ would be your forever identity.
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.
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.
We are forgiven for Christ’s sake. Losers set free to trust in God’s promises.
Death is never natural. Death is abnormal. Death is not human. Death is the enemy.
There’s something very attractive about both the cross-ladder and the cross-crutches. In fact, there’s something about both of them that the woodworker within us finds eminently more appealing than the simple cross of Jesus.
This is why a Christian must keep learning to forget himself so long as he lives.
This emphasis in Luther also applied to his understanding of the sacraments, and particularly comes out in his writings on the Lord’s Supper in his Large Catechism.
One thing that makes John different than the other three Gospels is the absence of the Lord’s Supper.
The Christian Church is one of the last refuges in modern American society where people who have perpetrated or suffered trauma and violence can gather together to receive the truth about themselves.
Every age gives cause for both hopefulness and despair.