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.
American religion did not become optional because the gospel failed. It became optional because religion slowly redefined itself around usefulness.

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If he was not flesh, who was hung on the cross? And if he was not God, who shook the earth from its foundations?
Last night was one of those nights when I had an unscheduled 3:00 a.m. Life Assessment session.
Sacrifice is the beating heart of the Scriptures, but also of our Christian faith.
What would be a fitting thing to give up, especially during the season of Lent?
Christ's death for us is how and why God declares us righteous. Christ's righteousness is imputed to us as free gift.
Kierkegaard attempts to take us through Abraham’s mind as the patriarch prepares to sacrifice his son, his only son, his son whom he loves.
But when God's Word of Law and Gospel are tuned up, when they're properly distinguished, then Jesus' words rain down on us like thunderbolts.
He barely wakes to find himself nearly dead; even so, he can’t feel a thing.
The arrangement was made with Abraham when God claimed for Himself all of his being, and put the seal of His promise upon the most personal member of his anatomy.
We who fall within the Protestant camp of Christianity have longstanding issues with ritual. I get that. Ritual is often abused. Idolatrized. It can easily devolve into a hollow act of religious farce.
No, when the Lord is ready for battle, of all creatures, he commissions Mary’s little lamb.
Burdened within and without, we cross the threshold into church. We don't leave behind our earthiness, our tragedies, our white-knuckled grip on the last vestige of dignity in our sad lives.