Far too often, young people become Christians and then search among the Church's ranks for real people, and have a read more

Far too often, young people become Christians and then search among the Church's ranks for real people, and have a hard task finding them. All too often, evangelicals are paper people. If we do not preach these things, talk about them to each other, and teach them carefully from the pulpit and in the Christian classroom, we cannot expect Christians so to act. This has always been important, but it is especially so today because we are surrounded by a world in which personality is increasingly eroded. If we, who have become God's children, do not show Him to be personal in our lives, then in practice we are denying His existence, and He cannot be anything but grieved.

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.

Feast of Saints & Martyrs of England I could scarcely reconcile myself at first to this strange way read more

Feast of Saints & Martyrs of England I could scarcely reconcile myself at first to this strange way of preaching in the fields, of which Whitfield set me an example on Sunday; having been all my life (till very lately) so tenacious of every point relating to decency and order, that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin, if it had not been done in a church.

Feast of Dominic, Priest, Founder of the Order of Preachers, 1221 Continuing a short series of verse on Christ: If read more

Feast of Dominic, Priest, Founder of the Order of Preachers, 1221 Continuing a short series of verse on Christ: If it be all for naught, for nothingness At last, why does God make the world so fair? Why spill this golden splendor out across The western hills, and light the silver lamp Of eve? Why give me eyes to see, and soul To love so strong and deep? Then, with a pang This brightness stabs me through, and wakes within Rebellious voice to cry against all death? Why set this hunger for eternity To gnaw my heartstrings through, if death ends all? If death ends all, then evil must be good, Wrong must be right, and beauty ugliness. God is a Judas who betrays His Son, And with a kiss, damns all the world to hell, -- If Christ rose not again. ... Unknown soldier, killed in World War I August 9, 2002 Feast of Mary Sumner, Founder of the Mothers' Union, 1921 Concluding a short series of verse on Christ: With this ambiguous earth his dealings have been told us. These abide: The signal to a maid, the human birth, The lesson, and the young Man crucified. But not a star of all the innumerable host of stars has heard How he administered this terrestrial ball. Our race has kept their Lord's entrusted Word. Of his earth-visiting feet none knows the secret, cherished, perilous, The terrible, shamefast, frightened, whispered, sweet, Heart-shattering secret of his way with us. No planet knows that this, our wayside planet, carrying land and wave, Love and life multiplied, and pain and bliss, Bears, as its chief treasure, one forsaken grave. Nor, in our little day, may his devices with the heavens be guessed, His pilgrimage to thread the Milky Way Or his bestowal there be manifest. But in the eternities, doubtless we shall compare Together, hear a million alien Gospels, in what guise He trod the Pleiades, the Lyre, and the Bear. O, be prepared, my soul! To read the inconceivable, to scan The million forms of God those stars unroll When, in our turn, we show to them a Man.

Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 Heaven overarches earth and sea, Earth-sadness and sea-bitterness. Heaven overarches you and read more

Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 Heaven overarches earth and sea, Earth-sadness and sea-bitterness. Heaven overarches you and me: A little while and we shall be - Please God -- where there is no more sea Nor barren wilderness. Heaven overarches you and me, And all earth's gardens and her braves. Look up with me, until we see The day break and the shadows flee. What though to-night wrecks you and me, If so to-morrow saves?

Christmas Eve They were all looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them high; Thou cam'st, a read more

Christmas Eve They were all looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them high; Thou cam'st, a little baby thing That made a woman cry.

Commemoration of Phillips Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts, spiritual writer, 1893 The Bible is like a telescope. If a read more

Commemoration of Phillips Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts, spiritual writer, 1893 The Bible is like a telescope. If a man looks through his telescope, then he sees worlds beyond; but if he looks at his telescope, then he does not see anything but that. The Bible is a thing to be looked through, to see that which is beyond.

Concluding a series on God and the human condition: Those old Greek gods are not just poetry and legend. read more

Concluding a series on God and the human condition: Those old Greek gods are not just poetry and legend. In them the Ancients personified living realities -- intelligence, beauty, love, or lust, which are still at work in our hearts, and which fashion our persons. The language they speak is that of image and myth, which touches the person much more directly than the explicit language of science and the intellectual dialectic of the modern world. It is also the language of the Bible, of the parables of Christ, which the rationalist of today finds it so difficult to understand, of the Word of God which demands of us not a discussion but a personal decision.

Blessed night, when first that plain Echoed with the joyful strain, "Peace has come to earth again!" Blessed hills, that read more

Blessed night, when first that plain Echoed with the joyful strain, "Peace has come to earth again!" Blessed hills, that heard the song Of the glorious angel-throng, Swelling all your slopes along. Happy shepherds, on whose ear Fell the tidings glad and dear, "God to man is drawing near." Happy, happy, Bethlehem, Judah's least but brightest gem, Where the rod from Jesse's stem, Scion of a princely race, Sprung in Heaven's own perfect grace, Yet in feeble lowliness. This, the woman's promised seed, Abram's mighty Son indeed; Succourer of earth's great need. This the victor in our war, This the glory see afar, This the light of Jacob's star! Happy Judah, rise and own Him the heir of David's throne David's Lord, and David's Son. Let the dayspring from on high. That arose in Judah's sky. Cover earth eternally. Babe of Bethlehem, to Thee, Infant of eternity, Everlasting glory be!