Luther neither removed the Apocrypha from the Bible nor discouraged its use. Rather, he received and preserved the ancient distinction inherited from the fathers: the Apocrypha is valuable, edifying, and worthy of reading, but it is not Holy Scripture and therefore cannot serve as the foundation of Christian doctrine.
The confessors at Augsburg remind us that every generation of Christians is called to bear witness to the gospel amid the challenges and pressures of its own age. As they confessed Christ before emperors and kingdoms, so the Church continues to confess Him before the world today.
When Jesus washes you with baptismal water, you can rest assured that the Lion of Judah is on the move.

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So much religion is all about us getting this or getting that. The God who comes to us in Jesus is all about giving us himself over and over.
Because of Jesus, we don’t have to pretty up anything ugly thing in life.
His consolation will accompany us in the midst of sickness and death. He will strengthen us, even strengthen us to carry the cross of old age.
Through this promise, God does not let us escape death because in and through Jesus He overcame death.
Christ’s flesh and blood is light that the darkness cannot comprehend.
The absence of a feeling is not the absence of Christ, but as emotional, rational, and spiritual beings, we cannot say that the presence of Christ necessitates the absence of emotion.
Jesus went on ahead and took our cross, our sins of poor discipleship, our weak faith, our rebellion against God’s command.
Some have built an entire theology on the false assumption that when God commands us to obey or believe, we have the ability to obey or believe.
Only Jesus’ absolute absolution can satisfy a troubled conscience.
Now, resurrection can only follow upon death. The good news is, it will!
Jesus becomes who you are and you become who he is. His kindness and patience and courage are given to you, and your lust and meanness and impatience are reckoned to him.
“The strongest person in the room doesn't win the fight," she said, "it’s whoever's the meanest…” I was fifteen years old when my aunt taught me that.