Commemoration of Bartolomè de las Casas, Apostle to the Indies, 1566 If God said, "I forgive you," to a read more

Commemoration of Bartolomè de las Casas, Apostle to the Indies, 1566 If God said, "I forgive you," to a man who hated his brother, and if (as is impossible) that voice of forgiveness should reach the man, what would it mean to him? How would the man interpret it? Would it not mean to him, "You may go on hating. I do not mind it. You have had great provocation, and are justified in your hate?" No doubt God takes what wrong there is, and what provocation there is, into the account; but the more provocation, the more excuse that can be urged for the hate, the more reason, if possible, that the hater should be delivered from the hell of his hate, that God's child should be made the loving child that He meant him to be. The man would think, not that God loved the sinner, but that He forgave the sin, which God never does. Every sin meets its due fate -- inexorable expulsion from the paradise of God's Humanity.

THE PRESENTATION OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE Has it ever occurred to you that one hundred pianos all read more

THE PRESENTATION OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE Has it ever occurred to you that one hundred pianos all tuned to the same fork are automatically tuned to each other? They are of one accord by being tuned, not to each other, but to another standard to which each one must individually bow. So one hundred worshippers meeting together, each one looking away to Christ, are in heart nearer to each other than they could possibly be were they to become 'unity' conscious and turn their eyes away from God to strive for closer fellowship. Social religion is perfected when private religion is purified. The body becomes stronger as its members become healthier. The whole church of God gains when the members that compose it begin to seek a better and a higher life.

Beside Jesus, the whole lot of us are so contemptible... But God is like Jesus, and like Jesus, He will read more

Beside Jesus, the whole lot of us are so contemptible... But God is like Jesus, and like Jesus, He will not give up until we, too, are like Jesus.

Feast of Mary, Martha & Lazarus, Companions of Our Lord [Paul] makes use of the symbolism of baptism, which read more

Feast of Mary, Martha & Lazarus, Companions of Our Lord [Paul] makes use of the symbolism of baptism, which in the East was performed by the complete immersion of the believer in water. "We were buried with Christ through our baptism (and so entered) into a state of death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the splendor of the Father, we too might walk in the newness which belongs to (real) life." To the rite as such Paul did not attach overwhelming importance. "Christ", he says, "did not send me to baptize, but to preach the Gospel." Paul recognized in the idea a most suggestive figure for the change wrought by faith in Christ. He found it necessary to guard against the crude sacramentalism which found in the mere physical process, as such, the actual impartation of new life, quite apart from anything taking place in the realm of inward experience. The Israelites in the wilderness ... received baptism in the Red Sea and in the cloud which overshadowed them; and yet they were disobedient, "the majority of them God did not choose," and they perished miserably. The inference is plain. No sacramental act achieves anything unless it is an outward symbol of what really happens inwardly in experience. The test of that is the reality of the new life as exhibited in its ethical consequences. "How can we who are dead to sin live any longer in sin?" If baptism is a real dying and rising again, then it is indeed a profound revolution in the personal life, a revolution which is simply bound to show itself in a new moral character.

Contentment is not satisfaction. It is the grateful, faithful, fruitful use of what we have, little or much. It is read more

Contentment is not satisfaction. It is the grateful, faithful, fruitful use of what we have, little or much. It is to take the cup of Providence, and call upon the name of the Lord. What the cup contains is its contents. To get all that is in the cup is the act and art of contentment. Not to drink because one has but half a cup, or because one does not like its flavor, or because somebody else has silver to one's own glass, is to lose the contents; and that is the penalty, if not the meaning, of discontent. No one is discontented who employs and enjoys to the utmost what he has. It is high philosophy to say, we can have just what we like if we like what we have; but this much at least can be done, and this is contentment: to have the most and best in life by making the most and best of what we have.

Feast of John, Apostle & Evangelist It is good to follow the path of duty, though in read more

Feast of John, Apostle & Evangelist It is good to follow the path of duty, though in the midst of darkness and discouragement.

Commemoration of Giles of Provence, Hermit, c.710 Prayer enlarges the heart until it is capable of containing God's read more

Commemoration of Giles of Provence, Hermit, c.710 Prayer enlarges the heart until it is capable of containing God's gift of himself.

It is no strain of metaphor to say that the love of God and the wrath of God are the read more

It is no strain of metaphor to say that the love of God and the wrath of God are the same thing, described from opposite points of view. How we shall experience it depends upon the way we shall come up against it: God does not change; it is man's moral state that changes. The wrath of God is a figure of speech to denote God's unchanging opposition to sin; it is His righteous love operating to destroy evil. It is not evil that will have the last word, but good; not sorrow, but joy; not hate, but love.

I have found (to my regret) that the degrees of shame and disgust which I actually feel at my own read more

I have found (to my regret) that the degrees of shame and disgust which I actually feel at my own sins do not at all correspond to what my reason tells me about their comparative gravity. Just as the degree to which, in daily life, I feel the emotion of fear has very little to do with my rational judgment of the danger. I'd sooner have really nasty seas when I'm in an open boat than look down in perfect (actual) safety from the edge of a cliff. Similarly, I have confessed ghastly uncharities with less reluctance than small unmentionables -- or those sins which happen to be ungentlemanly as well as unchristian. Our emotional reactions to our own behaviour are of limited ethical significance.