Confession isn’t a detour in the liturgy. It’s the doorway.
American religion did not become optional because the gospel failed. It became optional because religion slowly redefined itself around usefulness.
The Passover wasn’t just Israel’s story; it’s ours.

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God’s Son is infinitely more than our fragile egos have flattened him out to be.
The truth is, a Christian's holiness is hidden outside himself in Christ through faith.
Our relief when we're troubled can't be found at the end of all our preparations and celebrations, no matter how pious our intent.
“It’s bigger on the inside” is not only an evocative literary device, it is also a phrase heavy laden with Good News found in the true story of Christianity, especially at Christmas.
We have heard of the man born to be king. Here in Bethlehem, by divine condescension, the King—the King of kings—is born to be man.
Jesus isn't Superman. He's not from another planet. He's from Earth.
So it is with my little garden as well; dead, so it would seem. Nothing. Barren.
This time of year, Christmas time, the world isn't so much Christ-expectant as it is Christ-haunted.
Christians are Christians not because of anything that they have done but because of everything Christ has done for them.
There was another criminal next to Christ the day he died. He was aware of who Jesus was, and why he was there.
In happiness, we dare never forget that it is Christ, and Christ alone, who has restored our joy.
I became like God’s child David, whom the Lord pardoned of his adultery and murder. I became like Noah, Abraham, Judah, Aaron, Gideon, and so many more wayward children.