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.
He is the God who always is, whose Word is true, and never fails. He is a God who acts and always does what he says he’s going to do.
Election is not a riddle to solve. It’s a pillow to rest your head on at night.

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The Good Shepherd doesn’t leave the sheep to fend for themselves.
A Christian story untethered from the reality of Christ and his mercy toward sinners becomes a mere fable, while a sermon disconnected from the hearts of its listeners remains a hollow oratory.
Eucatastrophe is the coming untrue of all sin, evil, and death. And where that starts is the empty tomb of the risen Jesus.
In Israel today, it's still possible to witness the same scene the disciples saw 2000 years ago when the Bedouin shepherds bring their flocks home from various pastures at the end of the day.
When Jesus appeared again to his disciples on that first Easter evening and again a week later with Thomas and the Emmaus disciples, what did Jesus show them? His hands.
Don’t get in the habit (or, if you already do it, get out of the habit) of saying, “I could never talk about these things the way my pastor does.”
Heaven is yours now.
You are the baptized, for in Christ we are all wet. The demographic dividers are washed away.
This day and its meaning provided the opportunity for an anonymous author to write a poem for Sheer Thursday about Judas' betrayal of Jesus.
Jesus has gone ahead of you on the road, and promises to be with you still.
We are not pursuing dragons; we are the dragons. We are, all of us, Eustace Scrubb.
This is the sound of freedom. The Eternal One died so that we who are dying might live eternally with him.