We can bring our troubles, griefs, sorrows, and sins to Jesus, who meets us smack dab in the middle of our messy mob.
Confession isn’t a detour in the liturgy. It’s the doorway.
American religion did not become optional because the gospel failed. It became optional because religion slowly redefined itself around usefulness.

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There was a TV show back in the ‘90s called “Dinosaurs” that I used to sneak into the living room at night to watch.
True preaching arises when the Holy Spirit steeps the proclaimer in its own cycle of judgment and mercy.
I saw a beautiful picture of grace yesterday. A real bestowing of favor on someone less deserving.
For on the other side of the death of forgiveness is the resurrection of joy. An easter in which we emerge from the tomb in the arms of the man whose scars glow with mercy.
The Confessions instead look forward and provide a critique of the world and of all my various religions and idolatries.
Marriage is the ideal school in which to learn that we are not the center of the universe. We’re not created to live for ourselves. We find our true humanity only when we live for other people.
Never has the law fallen so hard on me as in motherhood. Never before was I more aware that my best wasn’t good enough.
When those who are serving joyfully and willingly are instead encouraged to complain that they are carrying the load for the rest of the body, all hope is lost.
Rather than telling our children, “You can be anything you want to be,” let’s tell them, “Be the best possible servant you can be.”
Jesus dies for the sin of the world. That means he dies for the person who disappoints us. He shed His blood for the person who doesn’t love us the way we want to be loved.
The Gospel is simple to confess. That is, we are justified by faith alone, through Christ alone, without the works of the Law.
No matter which side, it’s easy for all of us to build Bible verses into grenades aimed at obliterating the political other.