This Christmas, pull on your boots, tie up your laces, grab your hat, and start walking. We’ve a long journey ahead of us.
Revelation is always disorienting. The finite cannot comprehend the infinite.
If we truly anguish over the Church, then let us beat our breasts, rend our clothes, and sign our foreheads with ashes. The cry and the lament of Reformation should move us to nothing if not these.
Every moment may be set apart and consecrated to God through acts of Christian service and devotion. What else is the Christian life but this?