The “further up and further in” we go, the table keeps getting bigger, the guest list keeps getting longer, and the grace keeps on flowing.
Christianity does not locate freedom in radical autonomy. It does not tell either men or women that happiness consists in escaping obligations arising from relationships we did not entirely choose.
Jesus never promised me a World Series championship. He never promised that my children would always succeed or that life would go according to plan. He promised something better.

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The Church’s unity is not uniformity in every matter of her well-being. It is faithfulness in what constitutes her being.
The reasoning was always the same. The gods were angry. The gods were hungry. The gods required payment.
God wasn’t finished with Israel just yet. The wilderness wasn’t their home.
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.
Salvation is not merely to be put in “safety” but to be put into Christ.
His provision always flows downward, furnishing and filling us with his grace and truth right where we are.
Christmas is not only about a cradle in Bethlehem, it’s also about a cross outside Jerusalem where salvation was won for us.
Merry Christmas, Christ has spoken, and his verdict stands.
Christmas is not for remembering, thinking, pondering, trying to make sure you are really celebrating it properly, or for wondering whether you truly have faith.
The anticipation of Advent is supposed to build us up, not make us exhausted.
Lewis once pointed out that Christianity does not begin by telling us how to behave, but by telling us what is wrong.
Christianity doesn’t start with our speculation about God. It starts with God’s self-revelation.