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.
American religion did not become optional because the gospel failed. It became optional because religion slowly redefined itself around usefulness.

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The victory of Christ is hidden in the crosses we bear as Christians following Him to our own personal Golgothas.
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.
Give us eyes to see the face of Jesus in that little child wriggling in front of us, tugging at his mom’s sleeve, wanting a drink of water.
I cannot recall how many times I sang along to this theme song, punching and kicking as a kid in the 80s. But much of my desire to join the Marine Corps had its genesis in the 80s cartoon “G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero.”
Let us preach Christ and Him crucified to the masses.
A good place to start is to work hard at loving those no one else seems to love. I can’t think of a more Christ-like action.
God has given us a way out of our plight of “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” It is the way of the cross.
This reflection was adapted from Sexy: The Quest for Erotic Virtue in Perplexing Times (1517 Publishing, 2017).
Today I want to give you some good news. It is good news for the relationship failure; for the one who is self-focused;
In the world of martial arts, which I am the first to admit I am no expert in, there is a concept, particularly in Jujutsu and Judo, called seiryoku zen’yo or, “maximum efficiency, minimum effort.”
No matter how great our efforts or how righteous our intent, we will go from troubled to scared, and scared to terrified, unless we are sprinkled with the blood of the Lamb.
The practice of Confession in the Christian church is given to us so that I can offload my sins to He Who takes my sins to death for me—none other than Christ Jesus.