You May Also Like / View all maxioms
There is a state of perfect peace with God which can be attained under imperfect obedience.
There is a state of perfect peace with God which can be attained under imperfect obedience.
Feast of John Vianney, Curè d'Ars, 1859 Prayer is not a way of making use of God; prayer read more
Feast of John Vianney, Curè d'Ars, 1859 Prayer is not a way of making use of God; prayer is a way of offering ourselves to God in order that He should be able to make use of us. It may be that one of our great faults in prayer is that we talk too much and listen too little. When prayer is at its highest we wait in silence for God's voice to us; we linger in His presence for His peace and His power to flow over us and around us; we lean back in His everlasting arms and feel the serenity of perfect security in Him.
Feast of John Vianney, Curè d'Ars, 1859 Continuing a short series of verse on Christ: From Thee all skill and read more
Feast of John Vianney, Curè d'Ars, 1859 Continuing a short series of verse on Christ: From Thee all skill and science flow, All pity, care and love, All calm and courage, faith and hope; O pour them from above. And part them, Lord, to each and all, As each and all shall need, To rise like incense, each to Thee, In noble thought and deed. And hasten, Lord, that perfect day When pain and death shall cease, And Thy just rule shall fill the earth With health and light and peace.
What then are we afraid of? Can we have too much of God? Is it a misfortune to be freed read more
What then are we afraid of? Can we have too much of God? Is it a misfortune to be freed from the heavy yoke of the world, and to bear the light burden of Jesus Christ? Do we fear to be too happy, too much delivered from ourselves, from the caprices of our pride, the violence of our passions, and the tyranny of this deceitful world?
Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr The Mother sits by the rough-hewn byre where her Baby smiles, and the secret read more
Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr The Mother sits by the rough-hewn byre where her Baby smiles, and the secret fire shines on her face. Her hand rests by an iron spike from the wood thrust high ("The nails in His hands!" ) An open chink in the rude, cold shed lets in the sky, and the Star that led shepherds and kings pours down its light: a silver shaft through the frosty night ("The spear in His side!") Her hands reach out, as to push away the cross-crowned hill and the bloody day; they touch a rough, unyielding wall: the stable side, of stone piled tall ("The stone -- rolled away!").
Feast of Charles, King & Martyr, 1649 Salt, when dissolved in water, may disappear, but it does not read more
Feast of Charles, King & Martyr, 1649 Salt, when dissolved in water, may disappear, but it does not cease to exist. We can be sure of its presence by tasting the water. Likewise, the indwelling Christ, though unseen, will be made evident to others from the love which he imparts to us.
Literalism gets its name from its insistence that what we find in the Bible is not just the Word of read more
Literalism gets its name from its insistence that what we find in the Bible is not just the Word of God but the very words of God. The distinction is of tremendous importance. The phrase "Word of God" as used in the Bible itself, notably in the opening sentences of the Fourth Gospel, is an English translation of a Greek word, Logos, which was in wide use among philosophers at the time the New Testament was written. It connotes the creative, outgoing, self-revealing activity of God. The Logos was not a particular divine utterance, but God's overall message to mankind. It was not necessarily communicated verbally in speech or writing. Indeed, the whole point of Christianity is that the supreme communication of the Word took place when it was expressed through a human life and personality in Jesus Christ.
Feast of Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury, 988 Can the love of Christ move a Christian to fruitful, effective, full-time, read more
Feast of Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury, 988 Can the love of Christ move a Christian to fruitful, effective, full-time, unpaid service to those who belong to Him? I have no hesitation in answering, Yes, it can, and it must. St. Paul wrote, "The very spring of our actions is the love of Christ. We look at it this way: if one died for all men, then in a sense, they all died; and his purpose in dying for them is that their lives should now be no longer lived for themselves but for Him who died and rose again for them." There is the motive. Can anyone doubt that St. Paul's ministry was fruitful -- in wisdom, in Christ-like character, in testimony to the power of the Spirit of Christ -- or effective -- in conversions, in churches planted, in men raised up to carry on the work? Yet St. Paul spent long hours working with his hands to support himself. He served Christ, therefore, as an "amateur". Dare we say he was not really a "full time" worker? Or was he not really "unpaid"?
Commemoration of Thomas à Kempis, priest, spiritual writer, 1471 It is no great matter to associate with the read more
Commemoration of Thomas à Kempis, priest, spiritual writer, 1471 It is no great matter to associate with the good and gentle; for this is a naturally pleasing to all, and everyone willingly enjoyeth peace, and loveth those best that agree with him. But to be able to live peaceably with hard and perverse persons, or with the disorderly, or with such as go contrary to us, is a great grace, and a most commendable thing.