Feast of Barnabas the Apostle A united confession of the Name, a united worship of the Father, the read more

Feast of Barnabas the Apostle A united confession of the Name, a united worship of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit -- such a Confession, such a Worship, as the past contains only a dim shadow of -- we have a right to look for. It may come when we least expect it; it will probably come after a period of darkness, fierce contention, utter disbelief. But the confession will only be united when we cease to confound our feeble expressions of trust and affiance, our praises and adorations, with Him to whom they rise, from whom they proceed; when we are brought to nothingness, that He may be shown to be all in all.

The chief pang of most trials is not so much the actual suffering itself as our own spirit of resistance read more

The chief pang of most trials is not so much the actual suffering itself as our own spirit of resistance to it.

Insofar as theology is an attempt to define and clarify intellectual positions, it is apt to lead to discussion, to read more

Insofar as theology is an attempt to define and clarify intellectual positions, it is apt to lead to discussion, to differences of opinion, even to controversy, and hence to be divisive. And this has had a strong tendency to dampen serious discussion of theological issues in most groups, and hence to strengthen the general anti-intellectual bias...

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles Come Love, come Lord, and that long day For which I languish, come away. read more

Feast of Philip & James, Apostles Come Love, come Lord, and that long day For which I languish, come away. When this dry soul those eyes shall see And drink the unseal'd source of Thee, When glory's sun faith's shades shall chase, Then for Thy veil give me Thy face.

Feast of Evelyn Underhill, Mystical Writer, 1941 Anyone can lead a "prayer-life" -- that is, the sort of read more

Feast of Evelyn Underhill, Mystical Writer, 1941 Anyone can lead a "prayer-life" -- that is, the sort of reasonable devotional life to which each is called by God. This only involves making a suitable rule and making up your mind to keep it however boring this may be.

Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians read more

Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God, either; he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God, too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life, and in the end there will be nothing left but spiritual chatter and clerical condescension arrayed in pious words ... never really speaking to others.

Commemoration of Phillips Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts, spiritual writer, 1893 Wherever souls are being tried and ripened, in read more

Commemoration of Phillips Brooks, Bishop of Massachusetts, spiritual writer, 1893 Wherever souls are being tried and ripened, in whatever commonplace and homely way, there God is hewing out the pillars for his temple.

Commemoration of Bridget of Sweden, Abbess of Vadstena, 1373 If the wounds of millions are to be healed, what read more

Commemoration of Bridget of Sweden, Abbess of Vadstena, 1373 If the wounds of millions are to be healed, what other way is there except through forgiveness? Jesus, at least, leaves us no alternative. The command is stern. The terms are set: "But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.".

Commemoration of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, read more

Commemoration of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die.