It may well be that the world is denied miracle after miracle and triumph after triumph because we will not read more

It may well be that the world is denied miracle after miracle and triumph after triumph because we will not bring to Christ what we have and what we are. If, just as we are, we would lay ourselves on the altar of service of Jesus Christ, there is no saying what Christ could do with us and through us. We may be sorry and embarrassed that we have not more to bring -- and rightly so; but that is not reason for failing or refusing to bring what we have and what we are. Little is always much in the hands of Christ.

Commemoration of Peter Chanel, Religious, Missionary in the South Pacific, Martyr, 1841 I know the road to Jericho read more

Commemoration of Peter Chanel, Religious, Missionary in the South Pacific, Martyr, 1841 I know the road to Jericho It's in a part of town That's full of factories and filth. I've seen the folks go down, Small folk with roses in their cheeks And starlight in their eyes; And seen them fall among the thieves, And heard their helpless cries. The priests and Levites speeding by Read of the latest crimes In headlines spread in black and red Across the Evening Times. How hard for those in limousines To heal the heart of man! It was a slow-paced ass that bore The Good Samaritan.

EPIPHANY Invisible in His own nature [God] became visible in ours. Beyond our grasp, He chose to come read more

EPIPHANY Invisible in His own nature [God] became visible in ours. Beyond our grasp, He chose to come within our grasp.

Continuing a short series on forgiveness: Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner. ("To know all is to forgive all.") read more

Continuing a short series on forgiveness: Tout comprendre, c'est tout pardonner. ("To know all is to forgive all.") No commonplace is more untrue. Behavior, whether conditioned by an individual neurosis or by society, can be understood, that is to say, one knows exactly why such and such an individual behaves as he does. But a personal action or deed is always mysterious. When we really act, precisely because it is a matter of free choice, we can never say exactly why we do this rather than that. But it is only deeds that we are required to forgive. If someone does me an injury, the question of forgiveness only arises if I am convinced (a) that the injury he did me was a free act on his part and therefore no less mysterious to him than to me, and (b) that it was me personally whom he meant to injure. Christ does not forgive the soldiers who are nailing him to the Cross; he asks the Father to forgive them. He knows as well as they do why they are doing this -- they are a squad, detailed to execute a criminal. They do not know what they are doing, because it is not their business, as executioners, to know whom they are crucifying. If the person who does me an injury does not know what he is doing, then it is as ridiculous for me to talk about forgiving him as it would be for me to "forgive" a tile which falls on my head in a gale.

Feast of Vincent de Paul, Founder of the Congregation of the Mission (Lazarists), 1660 The greatest curse which read more

Feast of Vincent de Paul, Founder of the Congregation of the Mission (Lazarists), 1660 The greatest curse which can be entailed upon mankind is a state of war. All the atrocious crimes committed in years of peace -- all that is spent in peace by the secret corruptions or by the thoughtless extravagances of nations -- are mere trifles compared with the gigantic evils which stalk over the world in a state of war. God is forgotten in war -- every principle of Christian charity is trampled upon.

Commemoration of Samuel & Henrietta Barnett, Social Reformers, 1913 & 1936 It should be noted, at least by those read more

Commemoration of Samuel & Henrietta Barnett, Social Reformers, 1913 & 1936 It should be noted, at least by those who accept Christ's claim to be God, that he by no means fits into the picture of the "mystic saint". Those who are fascinated by the supposed superiority of the mystic soul might profitably compile a list of its characteristics and place them side by side with those of Christ. The results would probably expose a surprising conclusion. There is, in fact, no provision for a "privileged class" in genuine Christianity.

We are living "between the times" -- the time of Christ's resurrection and the new age of the Spirit, and read more

We are living "between the times" -- the time of Christ's resurrection and the new age of the Spirit, and the time of fulfillment in Christ. Life in the Spirit is a pledge, a "down-payment", on the final kingdom of shalom. In the meantime, we are to be signs of the kingdom which is, and which is coming.

Commemoration of Swithun, Bishop of Winchester, c.862 Commemoration of Bonaventure, Franciscan Friar, Bishop, Peacemaker, 1274 In addition to read more

Commemoration of Swithun, Bishop of Winchester, c.862 Commemoration of Bonaventure, Franciscan Friar, Bishop, Peacemaker, 1274 In addition to the general situations in which men find themselves today, there are those things in personal life which have always tested faith: the inexplicable tragedies and injustices; the suffering of innocent people, especially of children; the seeming uselessness of prayer, and so forth. It is surely life itself that makes against belief in most cases. It is the contradiction in real life between any image of God as good -- whether God is "above", "beneath", or "within" -- that makes men atheists. Yet how few books and how few sermons touch on this basic problem! Our theological libraries are crammed with books devoted to every aspect of textual and higher criticism of the Bible; but of genuine theological thinking about the things which drive religion from men's hearts, there is appallingly little to be found. The archaeology of Christian origins seems largely to have replaced genuine theology.

Commemoration of William Wilberforce, Social Reformer, 1833 All these several artifices, whatever they may be, to unhallow the read more

Commemoration of William Wilberforce, Social Reformer, 1833 All these several artifices, whatever they may be, to unhallow the Sunday, and to change its character (it might be almost said, to mitigate its horrors,) prove but too plainly, however we may be glad to take refuge in religion, when driven to it by the loss of every other comfort, and to retain, as it were, a reversionary interest in an asylum, which may receive us when we are forced from the transitory enjoyments of our present state; that in itself wears to us a gloomy and forbidding aspect, and not a face of consolation and joy; that the worship of God is with us a constrained, not a willing, service, which we are glad therefore to abridge, though we dare not omit it.