But, you object, a heart like mine can offer Christ so little -- at best, so poor and pinched and read more

But, you object, a heart like mine can offer Christ so little -- at best, so poor and pinched and stingey a hospitality and such meagre fare; for I have nothing worthy of Him to set before Him, only a kind of affection, real enough at times, but which, at others, can and does so easily forget; only a will, quite unreliable, deplorably unstable; only a faith that is the merest shadow of what His real friends mean when they speak about faith, I know. But, there was once a garret up under the roof, a poor, bare place enough. There was a table in it, and there were some benches, and a water-pot; a towel, and a basin in behind the door, but not much else -- a bare, unhomelike room. But the Lord Christ entered into it. And, from that moment, it became the holiest of all, where souls innumerable ever since have met the Lord God, in High glory, face to face. And, if you give Him entrance to that very ordinary heart of yours, it too He will transform and sanctify and touch with a splendour of glory.

The secular university is scandalized by the claims of revelation. Those who have, for whatever historical reasons, become seekers-on-principle, cannot read more

The secular university is scandalized by the claims of revelation. Those who have, for whatever historical reasons, become seekers-on-principle, cannot tolerate the allegation that truth is a gift. To have to receive offends those who have determined to take.

The Holy Scriptures are our letters from home.

The Holy Scriptures are our letters from home.

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, read more

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, Spiritual Writer, 1688 Christians are like the flowers in a garden, that have each of them the dew of Heaven, which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall at each other's roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of each other.

We need at times, some of us at most times, that Charity from others which, being Love Himself in them, read more

We need at times, some of us at most times, that Charity from others which, being Love Himself in them, loves the unlovable. But this, though a sort of love we need, is not the sort we want. We want to be loved for our cleverness, beauty, generosity, fairness, usefulness. The first hint that anyone is offering us the highest love of all is a terrible shock. This is so well recognized that spiteful people will pretend to be loving us with Charity precisely because they know that it will wound us. To say to one who expects a renewal of Affection, Friendship, or Eros, "I forgive you as a Christian" is merely a way of continuing the quarrel. Those who say it are of course lying. But the thing would not be falsely said in order to wound unless, if it were true, it would be wounding.

A science which does not bring us nearer to God is worthless.

A science which does not bring us nearer to God is worthless.

The Conob Indians of northern Guatemala... describe love as "my soul dies." Love is such that, without experiencing the joy read more

The Conob Indians of northern Guatemala... describe love as "my soul dies." Love is such that, without experiencing the joy of union with the object of our love, there is a real sense in which "the soul dies." A man who loves God according to the Conob idiom would say "my soul dies for God." This not only describes the powerful emotion felt by the one who loves, but it should imply a related truth -- namely, that in true love there is no room for self. The man who loves God must die to self. True love is, of all emotions, the most unselfish, for it does not look out for self but for others. False love seeks to possess; true love seeks to be possessed. False love leads to cancerous jealousy; true love leads to a life-giving ministry.

Feast of David, Bishop of Menevia, Patron of Wales, c.601 Is a mediator between the eternal spirit and the read more

Feast of David, Bishop of Menevia, Patron of Wales, c.601 Is a mediator between the eternal spirit and the finite an unreality, an intrusion? The mystic soul may impatiently think so, but the moral soul finds such mediation the way to reality; and the mystic experience is not quite trustworthy about reality. The pagan gods had no mediators, because they were not real or good gods; but the living God has a living Revealer. To know the living God is to know Christ; to know Christ is to know the living God. We do not know God by Christ but in Him. We find God when we find Christ; and in Christ alone we know and share his final purpose. Our last knowledge is not the contact of our person with a thing or a thought; it is intercourse of person and person.

Palm Sunday I bind my heart, this tide, to the Galilean's side, To the wounds of Calvary, to the read more

Palm Sunday I bind my heart, this tide, to the Galilean's side, To the wounds of Calvary, to the Christ who died for me. I bind my soul this day to the brother far away And the brother near at hand, in this town and in this land. I bind my heart in thrall to God, the Lord of all.-- To God, the poor man's friend, and the Christ whom He did send. I bind myself to peace, to make strife and envy cease. God, knit Thou sure the cord of my thralldom to my Lord!