Commemoration of Mary Slessor, Missionary in West Africa, 1915 Covetousness, pride, and envy are not three different things, but read more

Commemoration of Mary Slessor, Missionary in West Africa, 1915 Covetousness, pride, and envy are not three different things, but only three different names for the restless workings of one and the same will or desire. Wrath, which is a fourth birth from these three, can have no existence till one or all of these three are contradicted, or have something done to them that is contrary to their will. These four properties generate their own torment. They have no outward cause, nor any inward power of altering themselves. And therefore all self or nature must be in this state until some supernatural good comes into it, or gets a birth in it. Whilst man indeed lives among the vanities of time, his covetousness, envy, pride, and wrath may be in a tolerable state, may hold him to a mixture of peace and trouble; they may have at times their gratifications as well as their torments. But when death has put an end to the vanity of all earthly cheats, the soul that is not born again of the Supernatural Word and Spirit of God, must find itself unavoidably devoured and shut up in its own insatiable, unchangeable, self-tormenting covetousness, envy, pride, and wrath.

It is no strain of metaphor to say that the love of God and the wrath of God are the read more

It is no strain of metaphor to say that the love of God and the wrath of God are the same thing, described from opposite points of view. How we shall experience it depends upon the way we shall come up against it: God does not change; it is man's moral state that changes. The wrath of God is a figure of speech to denote God's unchanging opposition to sin; it is His righteous love operating to destroy evil. It is not evil that will have the last word, but good; not sorrow, but joy; not hate, but love.

Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 The shepherds sing; and shall I silent be? My God, no hymn read more

Feast of George Herbert, Priest, Poet, 1633 The shepherds sing; and shall I silent be? My God, no hymn for Thee? My soul's a shepherd too: a flock it feeds Of thoughts, and words, and deeds. The pasture is Thy Word, the streams, Thy Grace Enriching all the place. Shepherd and flock shall sing, and all my powers Out-sing the daylight hours.

Modern attempts to get away from the sheer historical facts of the Resurrection are, at best, based on a total read more

Modern attempts to get away from the sheer historical facts of the Resurrection are, at best, based on a total misunderstanding. The whole Bible proclaims the need for, and the achievement of, a salvation that will remake creation, and it is just such a salvation, at once supernatural and historical, that was won on Easter Day. If the Resurrection narratives are [merely] a subtle way of convincing us that God still loves us, or that there is a life beyond death, they must be reckoned among the oddest and most ill-conceived stories ever written.

Feast of Benedict of Nursia, Father of Western Monasticism, c.550 And have the bright immensities received our risen Lord Where read more

Feast of Benedict of Nursia, Father of Western Monasticism, c.550 And have the bright immensities received our risen Lord Where light-years frame the Pleiades and point Orion's sword? Do flaming suns his footsteps trace through corridors sublime, The Lord of interstellar space and Conqueror of time? The heaven that hides Him from our sight knows neither near nor far: An altar candle sheds its light as surely as a star; And where His loving people meet to share the gift divine, There stands He with unhurrying feet, and Heaven's splendors shine.

Christmas Eve They were all looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them high; Thou cam'st, a read more

Christmas Eve They were all looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them high; Thou cam'st, a little baby thing That made a woman cry.

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!").

They that know anything in this world know that, as the first great opposition of hell, the world, and corrupt read more

They that know anything in this world know that, as the first great opposition of hell, the world, and corrupt nature, is against faith to God by Christ; so the next great opposition made against us, is against our love.

It is no hard matter to adhere to God while you are in the enjoyment of His comforts and consolations; read more

It is no hard matter to adhere to God while you are in the enjoyment of His comforts and consolations; but if you would prove your fidelity to Him, you must be willing to follow Him through the paths of dryness and desertion. The truth of a friend is not known while he is receiving favours and benefits from us; but if he remain faithful to us when we treat him with coldness and neglect, it will be a proof of the sincerity of his attachment.