It seems to be very hard and -- if that would do any good -- might be a just matter read more

It seems to be very hard and -- if that would do any good -- might be a just matter of complaint, that we are fallen into so profane and skeptical an age, which takes a pleasure and a pride in unraveling almost all the received principles both of religion and reason, so that we are put many times to prove those things which can hardly be made plainer than they are of themselves.

Feast of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, Martyr, 1170 A Christian and an unbelieving poet may both be equally read more

Feast of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, Martyr, 1170 A Christian and an unbelieving poet may both be equally original and draw on resources peculiar to themselves, but with this difference. The unbeliever may take his own temperament and experience, just as they happen to stand, and consider them worth communicating simply because they are his. To the Christian his own temperament and experience, as mere fact, and as merely his, are of no value or importance whatsoever: he will deal with them, if at all, only because they are the medium through which, or the position from which, something universally profitable appeared to him.

Feast of John Keble, Priest, Poet, Tractarian, 1866 The deaf may hear the Saviour's voice, The fettered tongue its chains read more

Feast of John Keble, Priest, Poet, Tractarian, 1866 The deaf may hear the Saviour's voice, The fettered tongue its chains may break; But the deaf heart, the dumb by choice, The laggard soul that will not wake, The guilt that scorns to be forgiven -- These baffle e'en the spells of heaven.

Jesus will prevail. His Church will prevail. Everything else is just passing away. Our current leadership [of the Episcopal Church read more

Jesus will prevail. His Church will prevail. Everything else is just passing away. Our current leadership [of the Episcopal Church USA] will die one day, as will you and I. It is not for us to condemn others, but to witness to them of Him who is in our lives. Even now, the enemy is at work, but Jesus will prevail. I know a God whose mercy knows no limits and whose power has no restraints.

For some extraordinary reason, the Church moves in an atmosphere of antiquity. I have no doubt that it makes for read more

For some extraordinary reason, the Church moves in an atmosphere of antiquity. I have no doubt that it makes for dignity; I have also no coubt that there are times when it makes for complete irrelevance; for, if there is one thing that is true of religion it is that it must always be expressible in contemporary terms. Religion fails if it cannot speak to men as they are.

Commemoration of James Hannington, Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, Martyr in Uganda, 1885 We come to Jesus Christ: and read more

Commemoration of James Hannington, Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, Martyr in Uganda, 1885 We come to Jesus Christ: and He does for us what He promised; and the thing works out. To our amazement, it works out. And then we settle down. We have had our own first-hand and irrefutable experience. But, instead of opening the windows to the glory of the sunshine so evidently there, instead of being incited to a hugeness of faith by what Christ has already done for us, we can't believe that there can be anything more, or that even He can work, for us, anything better. That first foretaste satisfies us. And so we camp for life out on the confines of the Kingdom, and never press on to inherit what is there and meant for us.

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.

[The Church] sees that human life must be lived in the quite fearless recognition of this insecurity of relationship between read more

[The Church] sees that human life must be lived in the quite fearless recognition of this insecurity of relationship between one man and another. Now, once again may I ask you the question, Is the Church cruel when she points this out, and demands that men should see it and take account of it in all the arrangements of this life? Surely the cruelty lies with those who talk glibly about the brotherhood of man, and superficially about peace, and romantically about marriage, as though the disturbances in Church and state and family were introduced into human life by a few evil-minded men. This is the real cruelty. How will you face up later to your married life, to your administration of affairs, to your life in the Church, in fact to any real part of your lives, if you are taught to think that your neighbour will or ought to agree with you in all points, will accept your solutions of his problems, will in fact be a reflection of your image? Once we get this stuff and nonsense into our heads, we shall never be able to live with anyone or with any group of men. We shall sulk when we are crossed, or run away from the Other -- for Other they are. We shall certainly remove ourselves from the Church when we find it full of friction and yet proclaiming the love of God.

Feast of Agnes, Child Martyr at Rome, 304 Love is careful of little things, of circumstances and measures, and read more

Feast of Agnes, Child Martyr at Rome, 304 Love is careful of little things, of circumstances and measures, and of little accidents; not allowing to itself any infirmity which it strives not to master, aiming at what it cannot yet reach, desiring to be of an angelic purity, and of a perfect innocence, and a seraphical fervor, and fears every image of offense; is as much afflicted at an idle word as some at an act of adultery, and will not allow to itself so much anger as will disturb a child, nor endure the impurity of a dream. And this is the curiosity and niceness of divine love: this is the fear of God, and is the daughter and production of love.