Baptism does not promise us chocolates or flowers, but something far greater: life in Christ.
The Promised Land invites us to laugh at how relatable it is to be exhausted and exasperated by all the people, and the egos and opinions they bring with them, that come with living.
Christians can pursue projects of justice free of the burden of being the justifier of the world; that office belongs to Christ and Christ alone.

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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.
Nothing good happens when you get ahead of God and take matters into your own hands.
For those with faith in Christ, there is always a happy ending.
Children are not meant to carry crowns. They are not meant to rule. The burden crushes them in slow, invisible ways.
Tetzel peddled righteousness for gold, but God gives it freely through faith in his promised Word, the person and work of Jesus Christ.
Protestants, in my view, don’t suffer from a Goldilocks problem. They have an arrogance problem.
Why reflect on these three men — MacArthur, Ozzy, and Hulk Hogan — in the same breath?
The Solas are not just doctrinal statements. They are the grammar of Christian comfort.
Instead of offering more details or more information, he does something even better: he promises his very presence.
The danger is not destruction. It is reduction.