Fideistic Christianity may look bold, but it is fragile.
He doesn’t consume us, even though that is what we deserve. Instead, Jesus comes down to us and consumes all our sin by taking it on himself.
This article is the first part of a two-part series. The second part will take a look at when pastors abuse their congregations.

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God has given us a way out of our plight of “ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” It is the way of the cross.
“The strongest person in the room doesn't win the fight," she said, "it’s whoever's the meanest…” I was fifteen years old when my aunt taught me that.
Jesus is our food and drink, our home and property, our all in all.
Jesus is our food and drink, our home and property, our all in all.
For many years, I read this as a “salvation” verse. Jesus is knocking on the door of the hearts of the unsaved, asking to come in.
In the world of martial arts, which I am the first to admit I am no expert in, there is a concept, particularly in Jujutsu and Judo, called seiryoku zen’yo or, “maximum efficiency, minimum effort.”
In short, the life of Christ is perfect justice and perfect grace on display.
No matter how great our efforts or how righteous our intent, we will go from troubled to scared, and scared to terrified, unless we are sprinkled with the blood of the Lamb.
The practice of Confession in the Christian church is given to us so that I can offload my sins to He Who takes my sins to death for me—none other than Christ Jesus.
We attempt to put God to death as we seek to set ourselves in His place. God loves men, but he will not stand to compete with little gods.
The little gold man has become one of my most prized possessions for he reminds me of God’s love for me.
I’m a drug addict. Specifically, a recovering drug addict. More specific, a grateful recovering drug addict.