Should you then abandon David’s plea that God use his law against his enemies and send a Legal Avenger? No, the law must be preached to the Christian (insofar as he is not one).
The Church needs mystics again. Not fringe figures, but saints ablaze with love.
God chooses to clothe himself in promises and hides himself in his word.

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The Church becomes anti-church when the new world order Christ inaugurated by eliminating demographic division through the commonality of Baptism is exploded by allegiance to cults of personality.
The sign of the cross, according to the earliest centuries of Christians, is “the sign of the Lord,” and every baptized Christian was “marked” with it.
Repentance is meaningless unless we are willing to acknowledge who we are: sinners needing mercy.
The law had to have its way with the expert to bring him around (and back) to Abraham's response.
The answer to our messages is God's "yes," Jesus, who sends his preachers to proclaim that there's no place for us now other than in the grip of our God and Savior.
He will safely birth us from this world, which is like a womb, into Heaven itself. On that day we will truly see the creation as it was made to be, restored and perfect in eternity forever.
When all the people had been baptized, when all the people had washed the filth of their sins into the water, Jesus went into the water to draw their sins unto Himself.
Human history and especially the Christian life have a shape, and Jesus is its shaper at every point, infusing even the mundane and the difficult with sanctifying purposes, ultimate meaning, and enduring hope.
The sermon takes place in the context of a multi-facetted set of relationships experienced through the weeks and months of being together in congregation and community. Those relationships shape the credibility of the preacher in the pulpit. 
The usual acclamation when one becomes King is: “Long live the King!” But this King of kings, this son of David, has come to die.
Maybe, just maybe, our goal for 2023 should not be to live more but to die more.
In Memory of My Friend, James Arne Nestingen