It's said in Hollywood that you should always forgive your enemies - because you never know when you'll have to read more

It's said in Hollywood that you should always forgive your enemies - because you never know when you'll have to work with them.

Commemoration of Nicholas Ferrar, Deacon, Founder of the Little Gidding Community, 1637 The conduct of disputation by verbal read more

Commemoration of Nicholas Ferrar, Deacon, Founder of the Little Gidding Community, 1637 The conduct of disputation by verbal brickbat, by innuendo, and by light-fingered intellectual dexterity, is a mordant reminder of the time when controversies were settled by faggot and sword. The truth is hardly less the loser because the inquisitor has altered his methods. All of us who seek to explore the wide reaches of God's revelation, and strive to bring the thinking of others under the domination of Christ, do well to seek first to bring our own rhetorical techniques under that same dominion -- under the discipline, that is, of love.

Well, to begin with, you can pray. Pray!, you say scornfully, pray! I knew it would all fizzle out, and read more

Well, to begin with, you can pray. Pray!, you say scornfully, pray! I knew it would all fizzle out, and come to nothing. I could pray! Yes, you could pray, and, whatever you may think about it -- using it as a poor makeshift of a thing much lower than a second-best, not really a best at all, on which men fall back only when they can do nothing effectively, and are too fidgety to be able to do nothing at all -- Christ holds that prayer is a tremendous power which achieves what, without it, was a sheer impossibility. And this amazing thing you can set into operation. And the fact that you are not so using it, and simply don't believe in it and its efficiency and efficacy as our fathers did, and that so many nowadays agree with you, is certainly a major reason why the churches are so cold, and the promises seem so tardy of fulfillment.

Feast of Cuthbert, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 687 The desire for certitude is natural enough and explains the human read more

Feast of Cuthbert, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 687 The desire for certitude is natural enough and explains the human tendency to mistake faith for certainty. This is not a specially religious mistake. We think of supernaturalism when faith is mentioned, but the naturalistic description of the world also operates on assumptions that require a faith as robust as does the most soaring mysticism. The usual efforts to skirt faith beg all the questions there are. A psychiatrist, for instance, who points out to you that you believe in God the Father because you need a father, or that you became a missionary to expiate your guilt feelings, may be quite correct, but he has not touched on the prior question as to whether there is, in fact, a cosmic father figure who is the archetype of all other fathers, or whether there is an evangel worth spending your life promulgating.

Commemoration of Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury, 1099 It is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when read more

Commemoration of Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury, 1099 It is a poor thing to strike our colours to God when the ship is going down under us; a poor thing to come to Him as a last resort, to offer up "our own" when it is no longer worth keeping. If God were proud, He would hardly have us on such terms.

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on read more

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Not borne on morning wings Of majesty, but I have set My Feet Amidst the delicate and bladed wheat That springs triumphant in the furrowed sod. There do I dwell, in weakness and in power; Not broken or divided, saith our God! In your strait garden plot I come to flowers About your porch My Vine, Meek, fruitful, doth entwine; Waits, at the threshold, Love's appointed hour. I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: Yea! on the glancing wings Of eager birds, the softly pattering feet Of furred and gentle beasts, I come to meet Your hear and wayward heart. In brown bright eyes That peep from out the brake, I stand confest. On every nest Where feathery Patience is content to brood And leaves her pleasure for the high emprize Of motherhood -- There doth My Godhead rest. I come in the little things, Saith the Lord: My starry wings I do forsake, Love's highway of humility to take: Meekly I fit my stature to your need. In beggar's part About your gates I shall not cease to plead -- As man, to speak with man -- Till by such art I shall achieve My Immemorial Plan, Pass the low lintel of the human heart.

Commemoration of Amy Carmichael, Founder of the Dohnavur Fellowship, 1951 One can give without loving, but one cannot love read more

Commemoration of Amy Carmichael, Founder of the Dohnavur Fellowship, 1951 One can give without loving, but one cannot love without giving.

Feast of Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, Teacher, 1153 Commemoration of William & Catherine Booth, Founders of the Salvation Army, 1912 read more

Feast of Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, Teacher, 1153 Commemoration of William & Catherine Booth, Founders of the Salvation Army, 1912 & 1890 Bernard [of Clairvaux] did not stop with love for God or Christ, he insisted also that the Christian must love his neighbors, including even his enemies. Not necessarily that he must feel affection for them -- that is not always possible in this life, though it will be in heaven -- but that he must treat them as love dictates, doing always for others what he would that they should do for him.

Commemoration of Johann Sebastian Bach, musician, 1750 You, too, are called to be an open letter, as Paul puts read more

Commemoration of Johann Sebastian Bach, musician, 1750 You, too, are called to be an open letter, as Paul puts it, written by Christ's own hand, showing those round about you what things Christ can do. We are to go into the world and so to live our ordinary lives that, all unconsciously to us, those among whom we move will look at us again, and will begin to say, You know I used to doubt if there was much in Christianity save talk. But I have revised my opinion. There's So-and-so (that's you, you understand), that is a man in whom the thing is obviously working out. He used to be so touchy, so opinionative, so mean and shabby in his views, so dully ordinary. Yet now, undoubtedly, the man has won to self-control and a large generous mind, and -- yea, I know it's a queer thing to say -- but he has won to something more, something that somehow (though he never speaks about those things) makes you remember Jesus Christ!