One great thing about our post-denominational age is that it has opened up opportunities to make common cause with other Lutherans who, despite their differences and eccentricities, can agree on some of the most important things.
Pride builds identities that leave no room for grace.
We can willingly admit the fact that we're just like tax collectors and thieves.

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It's a new year, and you are still the same you: a sinner who is simultaneously perfect in every way because Christ declares it to be so.
It is impossible to live our lives in a way that would convince God of our value because he already knows our value. He is the one who gave it to us.
The love of God is creative, always giving, always reviving.
In Scripture, laments are raw expressions of grief, but they always point to hope. What if our culture’s obsession with holiday lights is an unconscious way of crying out, “We need good news, and we need it now”?
It is Jesus himself who is the ladder by which sinners get to God, not by them climbing up but by God climbing down.
It is your privilege—we may even say “right”—to call upon this Father and to call him Father.
We can do nothing to warrant entry into the kingdom of God nor are we getting in if we think a seat at God’s table is something to which we are entitled.
I have to believe that grace - God’s grace - will be waiting on the other side.
The gospel is for sinners – both the tax collector and Pharisee, both in need of the Great Physician.
The profound significance of Christ’s resurrection comes from the threefold justification it provides: it justifies the sinner, the sinner’s hope, and God himself.
Some part of us always wants our ability under the law to be just as important (or more) than grace.
The notion that your goodness is “good enough” to make you right with God is a lie straight from the father of lies himself.