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.

Commemoration of Francis Xavier, Apostle of the Indies, Missionary, 1552 There is a curious betrayal of the popular estimate read more

Commemoration of Francis Xavier, Apostle of the Indies, Missionary, 1552 There is a curious betrayal of the popular estimate of this world and the world to come, in the honour paid to those who cast away life in battle, or sap it slowly in the pursuit of wealth or honours, and the contempt expressed for those who compromise life on behalf of souls, for which Christ died. Whenever, by exertion in any unselfish cause, health is broken or fortune impaired, or influential friends estranged, the follower of Christ is called an enthusiast, a fanatic, or even more plainly a man of unsound mind. He may be comforted by remembering that Jesus was said to be beside Himself when teaching and healing left Him not leisure even to eat.

The Divine Perfections. How shall I praise th' eternal God, That Infinite Unknown? Who can ascend his high abode, read more

The Divine Perfections. How shall I praise th' eternal God, That Infinite Unknown? Who can ascend his high abode, Or venture near his throne? The great invisible! He dwells Conceal'd in dazzling light: But his all-searching eye reveals The secrets of the night. Those watchful eyes that never sleep, Survey the world around; His wisdom is the boundless deep, Where all our thoughts are drown'd. He knows no shadow of a change, Nor alters his decrees; Firm as a rock his truth remains, To guard his promises. Justice, upon a dreadful throne, Maintains the rights of God; While mercy sends her pardons down, Bought with a Saviour's blood. Now to my soul immortal King, Speak some forgiving word; Then `twill be double joy to sing The glories of my Lord.

Ascension Feast of Justin, Martyr at Rome, c.165 Commemoration of Angela de'Merici, Founder of the Institute of St. Ursula, 1540 read more

Ascension Feast of Justin, Martyr at Rome, c.165 Commemoration of Angela de'Merici, Founder of the Institute of St. Ursula, 1540 Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Does its successive journeys run, His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more. For him shall endless prayer be made, And princes throng to crown his head; His name, like sweet perfume, shall rise With every morning sacrifice. People and realms of every tongue Dwell on his love with sweetest song, And infant-voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on his name. Blessings abound where'er he reigns; The prisoners leap to lose their chains; The weary find eternal rest, And all the sons of want are blest. Let every creature rise and bring Honors peculiar to our King; Angels descend with songs again, And earth repeat the loud amen.

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.

We have peace with God by the righteousness of Christ, and peace of conscience by the fruits of righteousness in read more

We have peace with God by the righteousness of Christ, and peace of conscience by the fruits of righteousness in ourselves.

What I am concerned with here is not to write a new life of Jesus, but to set down my read more

What I am concerned with here is not to write a new life of Jesus, but to set down my witness to the continued shocks which his words and deeds gave me as I approached the Gospels uninsulated by the familiar cover of beautiful language. The figure who emerged is quite unlike the Jesus of conventional piety, and even more unlike that imagined hero whom members of various causes claim as their champion. What we are so often confronted with today is a "processed" Jesus. Every element that we feel is not consonant with our "image" of him is removed, and the result is more insipid and unsatisfying than the worst of processed food.

Commemoration of Ethelburga, Abbess of Barking, 675 This, of course, is what religion is about: this adherence to God, read more

Commemoration of Ethelburga, Abbess of Barking, 675 This, of course, is what religion is about: this adherence to God, this confident dependence on that which is unchanging. This is the more abundant life which, in its own particular language and own particular way, it calls us to live. Because it is our part in the one life in the whole universe of spirits, our share in the great drive towards Reality, the tendency of all life to seek God Who made it for Himself and now incites and guides it, we are already adapted to it. Just as a fish is adapted to life in the sea. This view of our situation fills us with a certain awed and humble gladness. It delivers us from all niggling fuss about ourselves, prevents us from feeling self-important about our own little spiritual adventures; and yet makes them worth while as part of one great spiritual adventure.

Feast of François de Sales, Bishop of Geneva, Teacher, 1622 Complain as little as possible of your wrongs, for, read more

Feast of François de Sales, Bishop of Geneva, Teacher, 1622 Complain as little as possible of your wrongs, for, as a general rule, you may be sure that complaining is sin: ... because self-love always magnifies our injuries.