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.
“The fear of the Lord” is our heart’s awakening to and recognition of God’s outrageous goodness.
The women at the tomb were surprised by Easter. Amazed and filled with wonder at Jesus' Easter eucatastrophe. And so are we.

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From all accounts, everyone in Nazareth would have just thought of Jesus as a very good boy who obeyed his parents and worked hard with his father as a tekton’s apprentice in the family trade.
Having the assurance that perfect righteousness has already been gifted to you is, perhaps, the leading spiritual scuffle in which every believer is entangled.
It is the words the pastor speaks that send the dead out alive.
God has closed the religious gym. We don't have to show up for church determined, this year, finally, to make a change for the better.
Christians are given a new name at baptism. We are given the Triune name of Father, Son, and Spirit.
Into the suffocating prison of sorrow, God sends his Breath, his Holy Spirit to help us. We may suffer, but we will not be alone.
It is that Christmas carol, the curious “We Three Kings” that we are looking at today in our examination of the origin and meaning of Christmas carols.
We think that if we are good enough, brave enough, or at least if we try hard enough, we will be someone who can be both fully known and fully loved.
No matter how fast we run—the little Pharisee on our shoulder is still standing there, arms crossed, shaking his head, and telling us we could have done more. We could have done better.
Christmas is, therefore, the beginning of Christ’s earthly ministry, even while he awaits a number of years to gather his disciples and inaugurate his preaching of the kingdom.
The promise of Advent is the promise of the lamb slain, who is born and given for us so that we don’t have to fear sin, death, and hell.
This love will not cease. It cannot be stopped. It cannot be tamed. It is love unsought. Before you lift a pinky in repentance, it has already come to you.