Reformation: The Freedom We Long For

We long to be free.

Free from fear, guilt, worry, and the expectations we place on ourselves. Free from the need to prove our worth or have all the answers. Free to live with hope, purpose, and confidence.

But what holds us captive? What yokes weigh us down? What makes us feel powerless?

Jesus says, “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (John 8:32).

The Reformation reminds us of a profound truth: we are not born free; we are made free by God's grace in Jesus Christ. We do not have to earn God's love or prove that we are good enough. Our freedom is a gift, not an achievement.

Martin Luther rediscovered this truth and found solid ground for his life and faith. His hope rested not in his own goodness, but in Christ.

Keep your eyes fixed on Christ.

When life feels uncertain, when we stumble, or when we lose our way, Jesus is our reference point—the place we return to, the ground on which we stand, and the hope that carries us forward.

To claim the name Christian is to let Christ shape who we are and how we live. This is discipleship: knowing whose we are and allowing that truth to guide how we treat others, respond to challenges, and make a difference in the world.

We are not freed simply to do as we please. We are freed to love, to serve, to forgive, and to begin again.

This Reformation Sunday, ask yourself: What yoke do I need to be free from? Where do I find solid ground? What might change if I kept my eyes fixed on Jesus?

We long to be free. And in Christ, freedom is not something we must achieve. It is a gift we receive.

Freed by grace. Grounded in Christ. Free to live in hope.

Add a Stronger Lutheran ConnectionClarify “Not Born Free”

Called to Community

Jesus says, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” (Matt. 18:20). At this time in the church year we are repeatedly reminded that God has not abandoned us and that Christ’s resurrection and ascension are a beginning for us, not an end.

One focus is the practical work of the gathered Christian community: turning from sin to repentance, from conflict to reconciliation. The question is as relevant today as it was for the disciples and the first Christians: How do we live together, work together, as the body of Christ? We have been saved by grace, liberated by God’s love to love one another. What does it mean for us and for our community to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 13:14) and to clothe ourselves in love?

We keep asking these questions because the way we gather as Christians continues to be profoundly countercultural. We do not gather as a social club, drawn and kept together only by shared demographics and interests. If church is only a social club, there is no reason to continue to gather if conflict arises, if uncomfortable issues are raised, or if “the way it’s always been” begins to change. If church is only a social club, there is no reason to do the hard work of reconciliation and forgiveness.

God calls us into community knowing that being in community is hard. In scripture we can find practical guidance for gathering through good and hard times. The Holy Spirit is always at work—in, through, and among us—to gather and regather us again. In community we meet and become Christ’s body in ways that are impossible for us as individuals; all the commandments are fulfilled in this call to neighbor-love (Rom. 13:9).

adapted from Sundays & Seasons

There Must Be Another Way

Peter may be the “rock” on which Christ will build the church (Matt. 16:18), but when Jesus reveals the suffering that will come first, Peter becomes a tempter and stumbling block. Assuming God must have a different way to save the world, Peter protests Jesus’ suffering and death. Jesus explains to Peter and all his disciples that, in fact, this is the way to life—losing one’s life in order to find it.

 

By tempting Jesus to an easier way than his journey through suffering to resurrection, Peter personifies a temptation common to all generations of Jesus’ disciples: seeking a way to avoid “losing oneself” instead of surrendering all to and with the one we follow. Rather than losing our lives—our selves, possessions, and time—we hold on more tightly, afraid of what will happen to our comfort, success, and identity if we let go. Those things we hold onto then become, like Peter, stumbling blocks along the way of self-giving love.

But while “saving one’s life” sounds sensible, those things also stand in the way of the new life into which Jesus beckons us to follow him. Perhaps Peter’s problem is that he sees only the suffering and death, without grasping the new life that comes through it. In times when we too are tempted by worldly ways of comfort and success, convinced that surely God must have an easier way than the way of self-giving love, this gospel reminds us that resurrection and life await on the other side of suffering and death.

This is the way of our God who becomes human in Jesus: emptying himself of power and dignity, losing his very own life for the sake of the world’s life. Seen through the lens of resurrection just ahead on the journey, what other way could there be?

Sundays & Seasons

Welcomed with Open Arms

The story for the Sunday after Easter Sunday is what we've come to know as "Doubting Thomas". The risen Jesus appears to his disciples, offering them a benediction, a commission, and the gift of the Holy Spirit. But one of their number, Thomas, is missing, and his unbelief prompts another visit from the Lord. We are not told why Thomas is missing.  But we do know that he had trouble accepting what the others told him.  The other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” 

 

His response?  “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

 Thomas is criticized for doubting, but he asks for nothing more than the same experience of the risen Christ the rest of the disciples had. By the grace of God, Jesus returns a second time and offers his body as living proof to Thomas. In the presence of Jesus, Thomas discovers he did not need the proof he demanded.

Thomas’ story is our story. We are not always where we need to be. Sometimes we even find ourselves in places we should not be at all. But Jesus comes to us, seeking us out and giving us the gift of faith. Thomas is not criticized, he is not condemned. Instead Jesus loves Thomas back into a relationship and shows the disciples what the words “Peace be with you” mean when lived out.

This Easter season is an opportunity to proclaim the power of the resurrection and the grace of God, who welcomes Thomas with open arms.

Surrender Death’s Final Word: Live in Resurrection Hope

Easter is God’s joyful, earth-shaking announcement that death—of the body, of dreams, of hope—never has the final say. Throughout Lent we have been giving things up: noise, perfectionism, judgment, control. But what we release prepares us for what God gives in return: a new beginning rooted not in our efforts but in Christ’s victory over death. Resurrection is not a metaphor; it is the center of our faith. It is God’s declaration that nothing is beyond redemption, restoration, or renewal.

In the light of the empty tomb, every “ending” in our lives looks different. The places where we feel stuck? God can bring movement. The relationships that feel fractured? God can bring healing. The fears that whisper “this will never change”? God whispers back, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Easter invites us to surrender our belief that brokenness is permanent and to live instead with resurrection-shaped expectation.

As Easter dawns, let your heart stretch toward hope again. Let the risen Christ breathe courage into weary places. Let joy stand where sorrow once lived. Because Jesus lives, everything else can live again too. This is the gift and promise of our faith: death is defeated, love is alive, and we are people of the Resurrection.