Following Jesus ✝️𓅦𓅦𓅦
Self-professed followers of Jesus the Messiah on Nostr. Protestants, Roman Catholics and Orthodox welcome. (No LDS or JWs)
"You can’t pour the new life of Christ into the old self" Wednesday of Trinity 19 2025
But you can’t patch the old with a little grace. You can’t pour the new life of Christ into the old self that wants to run the show. The old self has to die. The old wineskin has to burst. That’s what happens in Baptism. The old Adam is drowned. The new man rises. That’s what happens in Absolution. The old guilt is forgiven. The new life begins again. That’s what happens in the Supper. The old hunger is met with new wine—Christ’s own Blood poured out for you, filling you with His forgiveness and His life.
Free Article 2 (Oct. 28, 2025): Why We Keep Writing
When recognition fades and exhaustion sets in, what keeps the writer at the desk? This essay explores how faith, rhythm, and love sustain the creative act even when the external world remains indifferent.
Letter to the Editor: Broken Money, Broken Homes
Scripture says, “Unequal weights and unequal measures are both alike an abomination to the Lord” (Proverbs 20:10). An “abomination” is a “disgusting thing.” In Biblical times, a dishonest scale cheated the buyer or the seller. Today, our dishonest scales are hidden in how our money is created and managed. When new money is printed, added to a bank ledger, or borrowed into existence, the first to receive it benefits, while everyone else bears the cost later through higher prices.
"Forgiveness of sins flows from Christ's cross into your life" Trinity 19 2025
And here comes Jesus—with no lecture, no conditions, no delay— “Take heart, son. Your sins are forgiven.” That’s not just a kind word. That’s a word that changes everything. That’s a word that moves you from death to life. We might think Jesus got it wrong—this man came for healing, and Jesus gave forgiveness. But that’s the point. Forgiveness is the healing. The real sickness isn’t in the legs; it’s in the heart. It’s the sin that separates us from God. And Jesus cuts straight to it. This isn’t Jesus showing off for the Pharisees or using the man as an object lesson. No, He loves him. He loves him enough to give him what matters most: peace with God.
“The Church is a field of sinners—repentant sinners” Wednesday of Trinity 18 2025
You want to talk about weeds? Look at the cross. There’s the Lord of the harvest—hanging among the weeds, counted as one of them, so He could raise up a field of wheat. He took our impatience, our distrust, our self-appointed judgment. He took it all into the ground, and on the third day, the true Wheat sprouted from the soil—first-fruits of a new creation. Now He’s at work in you. In this messy, mixed-up field we call the church, He’s working through His Word, watering you with baptism, feeding you with His body and blood, forgiving, pruning, reshaping, keeping the wheat alive until harvest.
Pioneer Hash - Roadmap
Bitcoin mining decentralization musings
On human inertia
Humans adhere to physical laws.
"That’s love: arms stretched wide, heart pierced, blood poured out" Trinity 18 2025
Now you belong to that love. You live from that love. You give what you’ve received — not perfectly, but faithfully. Because the one who loves you doesn’t keep score. He doesn’t measure your worth. He gives Himself to you over and over — in preaching, in baptism, in the Supper — until His love fills every empty space in your heart. That’s how you learn to love your neighbor — not by trying harder, but by being filled with Christ. You can’t give what you don’t have. You can’t love from emptiness. But Christ gives you Himself — His body, His blood, His forgiveness, His Spirit — so that His love becomes yours.
"Look to the One Isaiah saw, the One lifted up for your salvation!" Wednesday of Trinity 17 2025
Because the truth endures when the world forgets. The Word stands firm when everything else falls. And the glory of God — the crucified, risen, forgiving Jesus — is still shining, still calling, still healing, still saving. So look to Him. Not to the crowd. Not to the opinions of others. Look to the One Isaiah saw, the One lifted up for your salvation. Look to His cross, His wounds, His mercy. That’s the glory that matters. That’s the glory that lasts.
Free Article 2 (Oct. 15, 2025): Why We Build in the Open
A hopeful, extended meditation on openness as the foundation of trust and resilience. Andrew G. Stanton argues that transparency is not fragility but strength — the moral and architectural backbone of a sovereign age — and that the act of building in public is itself an expression of faith in truth.
A note on faith, architecture, and the moral weight of open systems
A short author’s reflection on faith, architecture, and truth — clarifying that Continuum’s language of “cathedrals” and “builders of light” is not religious doctrine but a moral vision of integrity and openness rooted in the Victorious Gospel of Jesus Christ and accessible to all.
Modernity, Marxism, and Meaning
A meditation on some things I've been reading recently. The dilemma of our place in history can feel hopeless, with no where to turn. But when every means has been exhausted, there is one thing which remains.
"Your host Jesus comes to you and say, 'Friend, move up higher!'" Trinity 17 2025
And hear this clearly: You don’t have to make a name for yourself. You don’t have to build your own reputation. You don’t have to chase affirmation. You don’t need to be the big-name Christian or congregation. Because you already have a name—given to you in baptism. You already have a seat—set by grace. You already have honor—because Christ has called you “friend.”
🕰️ Free Article 2 (Sept 29, 2025): Five-Thirty in Two Time Zones
A precise reflection on the evening of Sept 29 when your father passed—marking the simultaneity of time between Honolulu and San Francisco, and the quiet recognition that goodbye had already been spoken.
✈️ Free Article (Sept 29, 2025): Flight Path to Eternity
A factual account of traveling from Honolulu to San Francisco on Sept 29 while your father lingered in his final hours—an honest day of movement, prayer, and silence across the ocean.