When you step into the Lord’s house, he gives you a liturgical imagination to see with eyes of faith all of his goodness and grace.
The thief is the prophetic picture of all of us, staring hopelessly hopeful at the Son of God, begging to hear the same words.
The Solas are not just doctrinal statements. They are the grammar of Christian comfort.

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The creation is one of God’s good gifts and being cut off from nature and wild places, as we often are in the modern world, is probably not so good for us.
If he was not flesh, who was hung on the cross? And if he was not God, who shook the earth from its foundations?
He reminds them how his love is truly marvelous and unconditional, but then, he looks them in the eyes, and says they ought to do better because of his love.
The God whose Spirit hovered over the face of the dark, formless, void waters of the infant creation, now walks upon the waters of the sea like a boss.
This had been a lonely year, though. She could keep herself busy for a while with friends and she could distract herself for a few weekends by leaving town, but something was definitely missing.
Who was this Jesus, who could do such things?
They stood on their feet, the Father's host, Alive in the Son and Holy Ghost.
There’s some wild and untamed prayers in the psalms. But they’re fenced in by order, symmetry, predictability. They organize chaos. And they bring order and hope and stability to our chaotic lives.
Whether one believes Jesus to be God or not, His words and actions proclaim that He did not come to be served but to serve.
Some days, people need a touch. Not just any touch, but something that says, "I care about you, and I love you."
The God who's lifted up above Calvary, abandoned and forsaken, should draw a more discerning crowd of followers.
I’m still laughing now as hard as I laughed back then. And the salve that he gave me in that moment still works some strange magic on me to this day.