Just as it is necessary that Christ took on flesh for our salvation, so too, it is necessary that he should be in the supper bodily
Jesus doesn’t say, “I give you the way,” but “I am the way.”
This is an excerpt from the sixth chapter of Fear Not: How the Gospel Disrupts Our Deepest Anxieties by Luke Kjolhaug (1517 Publishing, 2026).

All Articles

The Church’s unity is not uniformity in every matter of her well-being. It is faithfulness in what constitutes her being.
The reasoning was always the same. The gods were angry. The gods were hungry. The gods required payment.
The Supper doesn’t depend on the faithfulness of the Church. It depends on the faithfulness of Christ.
A rightly-oriented heart and a rightly-oriented love will consistently do what is best for God and best for our neighbor, which is why St. Augustine speaks of sin as a disordered love.
While we often talk about our growth, our progress, and what we are doing for the kingdom of God, the reality is that any goodness in a Christian does not originate in us.
Your exhaustion may not be a sign of weakness of faith. It may be the fruit of enthusiasm. It is Lent. Fast from your fever. Embrace the exhaustion. Curb your inner enthusiast and cling to Christ.
If the church is going to speak to people weary of religion, it will not be by offering better techniques or louder certainty, but by daring to say what Paul so plainly said: Christ is enough.
Christian faith is never a solitary possession. When the congregation confesses, the old speak for the young, the strong for the weak, and the clear-voiced for the trembling.
Living by faith has never been about what we bring to the table. It has always been, and always will be, about what God does for us when we can’t do anything for ourselves.
When we despair of ourselves, we repent of these self-justifying schemes and allow ourselves to be shaped by God, covered in Christ’s righteousness, and reborn with a new heart.
We can’t remove our crosses or the reality of our deaths. Only Jesus can.
Faith, for Peter, is not suspended in religious abstraction. It is tied to something that happened in time and space.