This is an excerpt from the introduction of Stretched: A Study for Lent and the Entire Christian Life by Christopher Richmann (1517 Publishing, 2026).
We can bring our troubles, griefs, sorrows, and sins to Jesus, who meets us smack dab in the middle of our messy mob.
Confession isn’t a detour in the liturgy. It’s the doorway.

All Articles

This is the second installment in our article series, “An Introduction to the Bondage of the Will,” written to commemorate the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Bondage of the Will.
When a congregation is abused by its pastor, it loses more than a shepherd. It loses its threshold place; that fragile seam between earth and heaven.
We can lay down our sledgehammers of moralistic performance, which aren’t effective anyway, and we can trust that we are his and his life is ours.
Faith takes God at his word and holds his promise to be true for me because I know God would not lie to me.
He doesn’t consume us, even though that is what we deserve. Instead, Jesus comes down to us and consumes all our sin by taking it on himself.
The Antichrist offers another continual presence. It is every whisper that tempts us toward autonomy, that tells us to carry it alone, that insists suffering is meaningless.
God leads us to green pastures. He comforts us with his grace in our darkest valleys.
Nothing good happens when you get ahead of God and take matters into your own hands.
The Word seems like it is so little, like five barley loaves and two small fish, but it is all that God used to create the heavens and the earth.
For those with faith in Christ, there is always a happy ending.
Can we then honor Mary without falling into error? I believe we can by focusing on four things Scripture does teach about her.
Protestants, in my view, don’t suffer from a Goldilocks problem. They have an arrogance problem.