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Commemoration of Wilfrid, Abbot of Ripon, Bishop of York, Missionary, 709 Commemoration of Elizabeth Fry, Prison Reformer, 1845 Finally, read more
Commemoration of Wilfrid, Abbot of Ripon, Bishop of York, Missionary, 709 Commemoration of Elizabeth Fry, Prison Reformer, 1845 Finally, what do we mean by the word "true"? How do we distinguish real Truth from human notions and ideas and opinions and doctrines? We are compelled to say that the word "true" means "grounded in reality, based on the real nature of things, on the basic facts which underlie the universe." Hence, if people say -- as many have said -- that the moral ideals set out in the gospels are high and noble ideals, and express admiration for the moral character of Jesus, and stop there, not daring to affirm more than that, the answer they are giving to the Question, "Is the Gospel true?", is No.
The Christian Mission is thus anchored in dogma, is a result of what ordinary Christians believe. It is God's plan, read more
The Christian Mission is thus anchored in dogma, is a result of what ordinary Christians believe. It is God's plan, God's activity; but because God became man and took up manhood into Himself, it is God's will embodied in active obedience on the part of the Christian individual, the Christian group within the Church, and the Christian Church as a whole -- we are all involved in it, all of us, in our various callings.
What men turn to is more important than what they turn from, even if that to which they turn is read more
What men turn to is more important than what they turn from, even if that to which they turn is only a higher moral truth; but to turn to Christ is far more important than to turn to higher moral truth: it is to turn the face towards Him in whom is all moral truth; it is to turn to HIm in whom is not only the virtue which corresponds to the known vice from which the penitent wishes to flee, but all virtue; it is to turn the face to all holiness, all purity, all grace. It was this repentance which the apostles preached after Pentecost.
Thanksgiving (U.S.) Lord, I am glad for the great gift of living, Glad for Thy days of sun and of read more
Thanksgiving (U.S.) Lord, I am glad for the great gift of living, Glad for Thy days of sun and of rain; Grateful for joy, with an endless thanksgiving, Grateful for laughter -- and grateful for pain. Lord, I am glad for the young April's wonder, Glad for the fulness of long summer days; And now when the spring and my heart are asunder, Lord, I give thanks for the dark autumn ways. Sun, bloom, and blossom, O Lord, I remember, The dream of the spring and its joy I recall; But now in the silence and pain of November, Lord, I give thanks to Thee, Giver of all!
Feast of Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, Teacher, 367 Commemoration of Kentigern (Mungo), Missionary Bishop in Strathclyde & Cumbria, 603 read more
Feast of Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, Teacher, 367 Commemoration of Kentigern (Mungo), Missionary Bishop in Strathclyde & Cumbria, 603 Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle, but you yourself shall be the miracle.
God has promised forgiveness to your repentance, but He has not promised tomorrow to your procrastination.
God has promised forgiveness to your repentance, but He has not promised tomorrow to your procrastination.
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.
Commemoration of Albrecht Dürer, artist, 1528, and Michelangelo Buonarrotti, artist, spiritual writer, 1564 On the Brink of Death. Now read more
Commemoration of Albrecht Dürer, artist, 1528, and Michelangelo Buonarrotti, artist, spiritual writer, 1564 On the Brink of Death. Now hath my life across a stormy sea Like a frail bark reached that wide port where all Are bidden, ere the final reckoning fall Of good and evil for eternity. Now know I well how that fond phantasy Which made my soul the worshipper and thrall Of earthly art, is vain; how criminal Is that which all men seek unwillingly. Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly dressed, What are they when the double death is nigh? The one I know for sure, the other dread. Painting nor sculpture now can lull to rest My soul that turns to His great love on high, Whose arms to clasp us on the cross were spread.
Christmas Eve Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. "Now they are all on their knees," An elder said as read more
Christmas Eve Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock. "Now they are all on their knees," An elder said as we sat in a flock By the embers in herath side ease. We pictured the meek mild creatures where They dwelt in their strawy pen, Nor did it occur to one of us there To doubt they were kneeling then. So fair a fancy few would weave In these years! yet, I feel If someone said on Christmas Eve, "Come; see the oxen kneel, In the lonely barton by yonder coomb Our childhood used to know," I should go with him in the gloom, Hoping it might be so.