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?
As soon as people understand what crucifixion means, the cross becomes offensive.
This is the third installment in the 1517 articles series, “What Makes a Saint?”

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Take courage, you who were lost: Jesus comes to seek and save that which is lost. Ye sick, return to health: Christ comes to heal the contrite of heart with the balm of his mercy. Rejoice, all you who desire great things: the Son of God comes down to you that he may make you the co-heirs of his kingdom.
Hains offers a novel yet simple contention: Luther is most catholic where he is boldest.
Augustine makes plain that the overarching aim of style is not to be showy; it’s to be an instrument of Spirit-led persuasion.
When the church is a political actor, the gospel doesn’t have the final word.
When and how did the church start this season of anticipation?
For with God we look not for the order of nature, but rest our faith in the power of him who works.
Neither attentive note-taking, nor appreciative head-nods, nor even sympathetic tears satisfy the purpose of preaching. Only lives that are changed by the Word working in the hearts of God’s people can do that.
The good news is that with our God there is always more: more than we deserve, dare, ask, or expect, more than we can see, hear, feel, or think.
Every incendiary move of God’s Spirit is accompanied by a group of penitent people rediscovering the power and preeminence of God’s Word.
The phrase “works of the law” has an antithesis when it comes to righteousness—faith. What keeping the Law could not do, the gift of faith does.
To preach Christ and Him crucified is to reveal again the revealed God who saves.
Sometimes in hanging on to our useless guilt, we are idolaters. We believe our sin or conscience is more powerful than our God.