It is death that deserves derision, not the disciple who reaches through sorrow for his Lord.
Illness is not romantic. It is not a test, a metaphor, nor a blessing in disguise.
The unity of God’s people is grounded not in lineage nor land but in the promise of the coming Christ.

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Three Lenten songs express the same astonishing wonder of a Lord who willingly suffers and dies.
News of Kilmer's death hit me like a freight train because his Doc Holliday stirred something in me about friendship—both the earthly kind and the divine.
The Psalm now is this: as Christ suffered and then was exalted, so we are also in him.
Sometimes the old story is the one we need to hear again and again.
Lent isn't simply a season. It's the Christian life in microcosm.
Apart from the confession that Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ of God who suffered and died for the forgiveness of sins and rose again to justify the ungodly, there is no Christian faith.
The great lie of addiction is that suffering must be fled, must be numbed, must be drowned out by any means necessary.
The cross traced in ashes isn’t a badge of honor or a mark of our works. It’s a reminder of Christ’s work.
To be happy is to be the object of God’s love in Christ and to love God and others with the love of Christ.
Despite the mathematical incongruity, the church confesses that Christ is one hundred percent human and one hundred percent divine.
Christians don’t need a bucket list. We’ve got the whole bucket: the Word fulfilled, life fulfilled, and life in full.
The wrong god means love remains frail, fickle, or a fiction. The right God means love is the most reliable thing in all the world.