Faith, for Peter, is not suspended in religious abstraction. It is tied to something that happened in time and space.
Baptism does not promise us chocolates or flowers, but something far greater: life in Christ.
The Promised Land invites us to laugh at how relatable it is to be exhausted and exasperated by all the people, and the egos and opinions they bring with them, that come with living.

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Heaven is yours now.
You are the baptized, for in Christ we are all wet. The demographic dividers are washed away.
The church is called to preach the good news of Jesus Christ. Where is that message found? In every blade of grass, on every page of Scripture.
We are not pursuing dragons; we are the dragons. We are, all of us, Eustace Scrubb.
This is the sound of freedom. The Eternal One died so that we who are dying might live eternally with him.
He declared you what you might not always feel you are, but what you were from the moment he knew you, before you were you, when he foreknew you.
He shows up when we are at our worst to usher us back to his side, lead us to repentance, rescue us, and reclaim us as his own.
What if the dissonance in this calendrical coincidence can be harmonized into a deeper melody?
The driving impulse of Lent isn’t so much “giving up” things as it is “putting on” something.
Christ's resurrection does not merely negate the bitterness of sin; it changes it into a source of divine sweetness, embodying the promise of a new life for us and a restored existence overshadowed by heavenly hope.
God demonstrates his great love for us in the actions of Jesus, who came down into the flesh and soaked up all our sin.
In normal human relationships, when reconciliation is necessary, we place the burden on the person who did wrong, who disrupted the relationship.