Peter Nafzger

If your congregation promotes and supports “family values,” you should be prepared to take this text head-on.

The Father in Heaven is the only one we have legitimate reason to fear. But in Christ, we learn that the Father knows His children intimately and values His children exceedingly.

Before the sending is the gathering. Before the gathering is the compassion. Before the compassion is the seeing. And it all starts with a gracious God.

The Lord, who is with us, retains authority over us. His promise calls for trust and obedience.

Their hearts burned, their feet ran, and their mouths opened. “The Lord is risen, indeed!” they confessed, because this is what Easter does: It makes confessors.

John chose to write these things for a specific purpose: “So that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name."

It is safe to say that Easter this year will be unlike any Easter we have ever seen.

Our God-given faith, despite our lack of sight, has made us sons and daughters of light who walk in the light even during dark times.

God interrupts Peter, but not only to quiet him. He also directs Peter to listen to someone else.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus establishes a whole new standard for what it means to live as one of His people.

The followers of Jesus have a function to perform. When they do not perform it—that is, when they are not being themselves—the world suffers.

Our first mistake in thinking about the blessed life is we expect to experience it fully in this life.

On the other side of Christmas, we find (1) senseless suffering and (2) unstoppable salvation. A sermon on these verses should be honest about both.

Unlike Luke, who provides most of the parts for the children’s program (the shepherds, the angel hosts, the innkeeper, and the animals), Matthew’s version is rated “M” for mature.

There he sat, awaiting his executioner. John looked around at what God and His Messiah were not doing, and even the greatest among those born of woman had his doubts. “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?”

The problem is not that we are unrepentant. The problem is our contrition is too small.

In the middle of [Jesus'] eschatological discourse, as He answers the disciples’ question about the end of the age, Jesus ushers in Noah. But what does Noah have to do with Advent?

Faithful celebration of the Reformation is possible only for those who understand they have nothing. Whose incapability and insufficiency are obvious and owned. Who recognize their dependence on God for all things. In other words, Reformation is for children.

I suggest preaching a sermon that directs attention away from the main characters. Instead, highlight for your hearers (and proclaim loudly and clearly) the promise of Jesus in this text.

This text gives us only a glimpse, a preview, of God’s plan in Christ to restore his broken creation to its physical and social perfection.

Imagine what it would be like if, when people in our community thought about this congregation, the first thing that came to mind was how forgiving we are.

Luke does not tell us who asked it. But it’s a good question. “Lord, will those who are saved be few?”

Jesus is still in the business of dividing. He has come to divide us from our sinful thoughts and habits. He has come to divide us from false views of the world and distortions of His Word.

The Father knows our needs because he knows everything. This is a comforting thought, but only if He is gracious.

Jesus names what life does not consist of, and in doing so he gets to something near and dear to our hearts as Americans—our possessions.