Mary’s extravagant love foreshadowed Christ’s—poured out on the Cross, overcoming the stench of death just as her perfume erased the odor of Lazarus’ tomb…

The good news of the gospel is that Christ died for the ungodly—not just for the obviously self-destructive but also for the subtly sanctimonious. The challenge for older-brother types like me is this: will we cling to our self-righteousness like a weapon, or will we lower our defenses, unclench our fists, and step into the celebration?

If you catch yourself, like the disciples, believing you’re better than others, repent — Jesus died for Pharisees too.

And if you’re weary, burdened by suffering, or crushed under the weight of your own mistakes, know this: you are not abandoned. Christ dwells with us, even in the wreckage of our fallen towers…

If Herod is a fox—scheming, grasping, ruling by fear—then Jesus is a mother hen, gathering, shielding, laying down his life in love. One takes life; the other gives it. And the best part? This mother hen spreads her wings not just for the chicks, but for the foxes too. For Herod. For us…

Our faith will be tested. We’ll feel the pull to hoard, to control, to chase comfort at any cost. And if we’re honest, we won’t always resist. But take heart—our failures don’t have the final word. Despite our faithlessness, God’s faithfulness endures—absolving, restoring, and strengthening us to begin again…

Christ laid down his life for us before we ever thought about repenting…

“We do not serve an aloof God—or one who merely knows our pain. We follow a compassionate Lord who stepped into our deepest grief—and can be trusted to undo it…”

Mercy feels like a burden—until you need it. Then it breaks you open and makes you merciful…

The kingdom’s way only feels upside-down because we’ve been living upside-down. In the Sermon on the Plain, Jesus isn’t flipping life on its head—he’s setting it right-side up, revealing the Good Life we were made for…

Today's reading is not a merit story. Peter isn’t seeking wisdom or asking for help—he’s exhausted, frustrated, and, frankly, annoyed.

His response to Jesus’ call is passive-aggressive at best. And yet, Christ still gives him the prize.

Grace strips him bare, exposing his pettiness, his self-absorption, the gap between the life he wants and the life he’s living. And in that moment—raw, humbled, undone—Christ says, “Do not be afraid.”

For in Christ’s kingdom, only the wounded can serve.

In Christ’s service, only the humble are of use.