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.
This is the first in a series of articles entitled “Getting Over Yourself for Lent.” We’ll have a new article every week of this Lenten Season.
We can’t remove our crosses or the reality of our deaths. Only Jesus can.

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How do the words “The righteous shall live by his faith” go from a context of hope in hopelessness to the cornerstone declaration of the chief doctrine of the Christian faith?
How many times in our lifetime must we sigh, floundering through this world with our sins, sorrows, struggles, frustrations, fears, and foes?
This story is not meant for six-year-olds, but it is meant for us, though we should hardly handle it.
Because Jesus Taught It. By Flame. Concordia Publishing House. Paperback. 205 pages. List price: $17.99.
Few couples faced the kind of pressures they endured in their two decades of marriage prior to Martin’s death in 1546.
The doctrine of the Trinity is not so much the story of a “who-dunnit” as it is the story of the “who-is-it.”
What I was missing—what so many are missing—is a Church that doesn’t just speak about Christ, but delivers him.
In Christ, you are bound. Bound to mercy. Bound to grace. Bound to a God who won’t let you go. And because of that, you are free—gloriously, joyfully free.
The baptized do not celebrate sin—they grieve it.
Should you then abandon David’s plea that God use his law against his enemies and send a Legal Avenger? No, the law must be preached to the Christian (insofar as he is not one).
The Christ who rescues does not wait for you to be clean. He comes to clean you. He does not need your strength. He brings his own.
When you remember your baptism, you're not recalling a ritual. You're standing under a current of divine action that has not ceased to flow since the moment those baptismal waters hit your skin.