This is an excerpt from the introduction of Stretched: A Study for Lent and the Entire Christian Life by Christopher Richmann (1517 Publishing, 2026).
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.

All Articles

Mere confrontation in the form of, “What you’re doing is wrong—you need to change yourself,” can never solve the root of our problem.
[Luther's] Catechism is at home in the evangelical pulpit, guiding and shaping what the preacher says so faith might be created and love given direction.
Martin Luther is not–or, at least should not–be the object of our affection.
The real problem with the way we talk about Baptism in particular, and the sacraments at all, is that we are simply afraid of letting God’s Word get us.
These treasures show us that, no matter how well we think we know this poem, there’s always more layers to uncover.
It’s no wonder we’re so attached to images; we are one. We are human hyphens between the celestial and the terrestrial.
The central affirmation of the Reformation stands: Through no merit of ours, but by His mercy, we have been restored to a right relationship with God through the life, death, and resurrection of His beloved Son
What follows is a little crash course in how to read Calvin with respect, for our benefit, and with an eye to how we keep Reformation giants at a proper historical arms distance.
All God's fatherly goodness and mercy is concrete and real, born of a virgin, crucified for our trespasses, raised for our justification.
These three: to judge, to avenge, and to glory, have been taken from us, and no person should share in them.
“I love you” is great, as long as whatever commitment I may or may not be intimating is mutually beneficial and causes the least amount of emotional strain to me.
It was reported that Hus died singing, “Christ, son of the living God, have mercy on me.”