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.
The entire history of Protestantism is downstream of a goldsmith in Mainz figuring out how to cast identical pieces of lead type in less than a minute.
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.

All Articles

The great lie of addiction is that suffering must be fled, must be numbed, must be drowned out by any means necessary.
You cannot sever the saint from the sinner. Christians remain both simultaneously.
In the upside-down wisdom of God, the place of the cross becomes the place of life, absolution, and triumph.
In grace, God chooses to love his people.
The wrong god means love remains frail, fickle, or a fiction. The right God means love is the most reliable thing in all the world.
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.
The love of God is creative, always giving, always reviving.
The world rushes forward, lighting up screens and decking out storefronts in a mad sprint toward the next thing, but Advent pulls us back.
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”?
We love hearing about Jesus, but we also love hearing about how much effort we need to exert to truly pull off this whole “Christian life” thing.
This article is part of Stephen Paulson’s series on the Psalms.
No amount of ritual, sacrifice, devotion, or money could ever do what Jesus of Nazareth was sent to accomplish.