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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Only when we’re ready to accept the impossibility of human perfection can we move beyond the paralyzing myth that we are capable of anything good apart from Christ.
We know not how, and we do not know when, but God works according to His perfect will and His perfect timing.
Jesus comes to you. He binds your wounds, and he pours out his body and his blood for the forgiveness of your sins.
Questions and opinions about Him varied, but one thing was certain, Jesus was causing a major commotion. He could not be ignored.
This is the first direct promise of the Seed who will reunite all mankind to God by defeating Satan on the Cross.
If you and I were to examine our own lives, we’d likely have to admit that we are frequent disciples of Jeroboam’s “bootleg religion.”
The irony of our idolatry is that many of our idols could and would speak the gospel to us if we would listen.
God bestows faith that it should deal not with ordinary things, but with things no human being can master such as death, sin, the world, and Satan.
The Holy Spirit is sent, not to talk about himself, but to point us to Jesus.
Trinity Sunday is a day we confess the mystery of our faith. It is a mystery that saves.
Somedays we are simply looking for a mark, a rock at the foot of a tree, something to direct us forward, a few words to let us know we are going in the right direction.
What is it, though, that makes bedtime so fraught with anxiety?