Forgiveness from Jesus is always surprising to us.
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.

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God isn't satisfied when we turn our backs on Him. No, he takes the initiative and goes after us. In fact, he obsesses over us.
A person, not a nation, can be a Christian because only a person can be saved by grace through faith in the work of Christ.
We confuse our success and failures with God’s judgment of us.
[Luther's] Catechism is at home in the evangelical pulpit, guiding and shaping what the preacher says so faith might be created and love given direction.
We are so free as Christians that we don't even have to compare ourselves to other Christians.
Martin Luther is not–or, at least should not–be the object of our affection.
It is a strange irony, but in a world drunk on violence, it is only on the cross of violence that there is hope for peace in our world.
The gelded Gospel is shiny and attractive and compelling, and we can perform the procedure in any number of ways.
Pain is our birthright, but Jesus’ resurrection is our irrevocable end.
Death can make us feel like tourists or strangers traveling across the landscape of someone else’s life.
Did the suffering stop? No. It actually got worse. The commands of what exercise to do next sped up and intensified for both of us. The Guide was allowing himself to be smoked with me.
In the church, the main actor in worship is not the Christian but Christ.