MacArthur’s courage to speak Scripture’s truth, no matter the audience, should be commended.
This is an excerpt from Remembering Your Baptism: A Sinner Saint Devotional (1517 Publishing, 2025) by Kathy Morales, pgs 74-77.

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There was another criminal next to Christ the day he died. He was aware of who Jesus was, and why he was there.
I'm afraid of dying. I am a Christian and I am horribly afraid of falling bridges, crashing planes, turned over cars and anything else that you can think of that would include my body being mangled into a mess of bones and flesh.
Professional historians frequently assert that "miracles" are not a proper subject for historical investigation.
Fairy tales are but one chapter in the book we call storytelling. We may prefer reading other kinds of stories (mystery, science fiction, and so on).
Imagine if Zacchaeus posted on Jerusalem's Facebook a selfie with Jesus. The top dog among the tax-gougers with Christ at his dinner table. Oh, the outrage! The puritanical zealots would have been tweeting and blogging about it for months.
We see someone driving a fancy car, owning a big home, having healthy children and an attractive spouse. Instantly, almost without a second's thought, we assume they are successful. Life is good for them.
The essential Christian claim is that God came to earth in Christ and died for men to take care of their problem of sin and evil.
It is often the case that when dealing Divine, we find ourselves befuddled. For as relatable and surprisingly vulnerable God is as the man Jesus, he seems, at times, to retain a certain aloofness, a type of distance.
If you know me in the least, then you know of my fondness for the 2010 film Inception.
Before long I was deeply involved in the trilogy (the reader is invariably "drawn into" the story in a unique way, and for a good reason as we shall see).
To forget ourselves is to remember another, that is, to act in such a way that benefits them. That’s the problem: we don’t.
Today, I almost died several times.