One great thing about our post-denominational age is that it has opened up opportunities to make common cause with other Lutherans who, despite their differences and eccentricities, can agree on some of the most important things.
Pride builds identities that leave no room for grace.
We can willingly admit the fact that we're just like tax collectors and thieves.

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“Unveiling Mercy: 365 Daily Devotions on Insights from Old Testament Hebrew” by Chad Bird (1517 Publishing, 2020) is now available for purchase.
A life of faith is a life of wisdom, which is a life lived knowing that it is God’s authority — and his alone — that prevails as the consummate active power in the cosmos.
When we genuinely measure ourselves, we will find ourselves dreadfully lacking.
The tragedy of this parable is not the failure to serve. It is the failure to truly know your Savior.
There is life after death and, more gloriously, there is life after life after death, the resurrection of the body.
Obviously, the Day of the LORD looks frightening according to the words of Zephaniah the prophet. The question is: “For whom?”
This new life is marked not by fear of death but hope in eternal life.
We subject ourselves to the governing authorities for the sake of our neighbor, that they might be protected from our sinful nature that seeks our advantage over theirs (and vice versa)
Because Israel has turned the eschatology of the Day of the LORD into “escapism” Amos turns that notion on its head in his prophecy.
Mindful that the pagans’ understanding of death is a finality, Paul says, “NO!” Death is not the end of humanity in God’s new world.
The parable is harsh. It judges. If you do not believe, you will not be saved. But let us pause for a moment and think about why Jesus is telling the parable.
Cast your vote with an air of bold and defiant levity. Don’t take yourself, or this election, so seriously. No string of unfortunate events can stop Christ's beating heart of mercy. No politician can un-Easter our Lord.