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.

The word "Comforter" as applied to the Holy Spirit needs to be translated by some vigorous term. Literally, it means read more

The word "Comforter" as applied to the Holy Spirit needs to be translated by some vigorous term. Literally, it means "with strength." Jesus promised His followers that "The Strengthener" would be with them forever. This promise is no lullaby for the faint-hearted. It is a blood transfusion for courageous living.

[C. S. Lewis] was leery of too many prayers that leave all the work to God and other people.

[C. S. Lewis] was leery of too many prayers that leave all the work to God and other people.

Commemoration of Richard Baxter, Priest, Hymnographer, Teacher, 1691 Lord, it belongs not to my care, Whether I die or read more

Commemoration of Richard Baxter, Priest, Hymnographer, Teacher, 1691 Lord, it belongs not to my care, Whether I die or live; To love and serve Thee is my share, And this Thy grace must give. If life be long I will be glad, That I may long obey; If short--yet why should I be sad To soar to endless day? Christ leads me through no darker rooms Than He went through before; He that unto God's kingdom comes, Must enter by this door. Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet Thy blessed face to see; For if Thy work on earth be sweet, What will Thy glory be! Then shall I end my sad complaints, And weary, sinful days; And join with the triumphant saints, To sing Jehovah's praise. My knowledge of that life is small, The eye of faith is dim; But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, And I shall be with him.

Commemoration of Charles Williams, Spiritual Writer, 1945 It may be possible for each of us to think too much read more

Commemoration of Charles Williams, Spiritual Writer, 1945 It may be possible for each of us to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour. The load, or weight, or burden, of my neighbour's glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship --or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people.

Holy Saturday Commemoration of George Augustus Selwyn, first Bishop of New Zealand, 1878 Sing, men and angels, sing, for God read more

Holy Saturday Commemoration of George Augustus Selwyn, first Bishop of New Zealand, 1878 Sing, men and angels, sing, for God our Life and King Has given us light and spring and morning breaking Now may man's soul arise as kinsman to the skies, And God unseals his eyes to an awaking. Sing, creatures, sing; the dust that lives by lure and lust Is kindled by the thrust of life undying; This hope our Master bare has made all fortunes fair, And man can on and dare, his death defying. After the winter snows a wind of healing blows, And thorns put forth a rose, and lilies cheer us; Life's everlasting spring has robbed death of his sting, Henceforth a cry can bring our Master near us.

Make me what Thou wouldst have me. I bargain for nothing. I make no terms. I seek for no previous read more

Make me what Thou wouldst have me. I bargain for nothing. I make no terms. I seek for no previous information whither Thou art taking me. I will be what Thou wilt make me, and all that Thou wilt make me. I say not, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest, for I am weak, but I give myself to Thee, to lead me anywhither.

Commemoration of Bartolomè de las Casas, Apostle to the Indies, 1566 Christianity is a battle, not a dream.

Commemoration of Bartolomè de las Casas, Apostle to the Indies, 1566 Christianity is a battle, not a dream.

Holy Saturday When Jesus Christ shed his blood on the cross, it was not the blood of a read more

Holy Saturday When Jesus Christ shed his blood on the cross, it was not the blood of a martyr; or the blood of one man for another; it was the life of God poured out to redeem the world.