The Passover wasn’t just Israel’s story; it’s ours.
God makes us pure saints by planting us back in the earth we imagined we needed to escape.
Salvation is not merely to be put in “safety” but to be put into Christ.

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I want the beginning of my funeral to be focused on Jesus, as well as the middle, the end, and every point in between.
Hamilton writes lucidly. He has that rare gift of walking the tightrope between the academy and the church, being able to communicate to both groups in the same book.
History won’t judge us, Jesus will. We already have his judgment. He gave it to us from the cross, where he acquitted us with his death.
The gospel of Jesus’ coming out of death and the tomb alive so that we might be restored to our identity as God’s children establishes the most enduring reality there is.
On this Maundy Thursday, in particular, let the “for you” of Christ’s gifts dominate.
Great things are contained in these seemingly unimportant words: "Behold, your king." Such boundless gifts are brought by this poor and despised king.
All human wisdom, righteousness, and holiness are made futile in that which belongs to God’s kingdom.
Who we are buried with matters. But there is no need to go out and find a dead prophet so you can join him six feet under.
The promise here is that God is present with us in our troubles, issuing commands to save us before we ask. God does not ignore our suffering and cries.
Belonging to Christ means we have a place where we fit, a resting place where we are at peace because we know our Lord accepts us as His own.
Theologians of glory searched for God everywhere except the Cross of Christ.
You can die now, you can let go, and because that is true, you can begin to live!