Commemoration of Douglas Downes, Founder of the Society of Saint Francis, 1957 There are three lessons I would write, read more

Commemoration of Douglas Downes, Founder of the Society of Saint Francis, 1957 There are three lessons I would write, Three words, as with a burning pen, In tracings of eternal light, Upon the hearts of men. Have Hope. Though clouds environ round, And gladness hides her face in scorn, Put off the shadow from thy brow: No night but hath its morn. Have Faith. Where'er thy bark is driven - The calm's disport, the tempest's mirth - Know this: God rules the hosts of heaven, The inhabitants of earth. Have Love. Not love alone for one, But man, as man, thy brother call; And scatter, like a circling sun, Thy charities on all.

There is a wisdom of the head, and... a wisdom of the heart.

There is a wisdom of the head, and... a wisdom of the heart.

The idea of endless and limitless progress and development seems unsatisfying both philosophically and religiously; a process only finds its read more

The idea of endless and limitless progress and development seems unsatisfying both philosophically and religiously; a process only finds its meaning in its goal. However far off be the Beatific Vision, to see the King in His glory, "to know Thee and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent" -- this is heaven, and "it were a well-spent journey though seven deaths lay between".

Belief in law is essential to the philosophical conception of prayer. If the universe were a mere chaos of chances, read more

Belief in law is essential to the philosophical conception of prayer. If the universe were a mere chaos of chances, or if it were a result of absolute necessity, there would be no place for intelligent prayer; but if it is under the control of a Lawgiver, wise and merciful, not a mere manager of material machinery, but a true Father of all, then we can come to such a Being with our requests -- not in the belief that we change His great plans, nor that any advantage could result from this if it were possible, but that these plans may be made in his boundless wisdom and love to meet our necessities.

Feast of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, Martyr, c.107 Prayer is not so much the means whereby God's will is read more

Feast of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, Martyr, c.107 Prayer is not so much the means whereby God's will is bent to man's desires, as it is that whereby man's will is bent to God's desires. The real end of prayer is not so much to get this or that single desire granted, as to put human life into full and joyful conformity with the will of God.

Feast of John, Apostle & Evangelist [Eternal life is] naught else than that blessed regard wherewith Thou never ceasest read more

Feast of John, Apostle & Evangelist [Eternal life is] naught else than that blessed regard wherewith Thou never ceasest to behold me, yea, even the secret places of my soul. With Thee, to behold is to give life: It is unceasingly to impart sweetest love of Thee; 'tis to inflame me to love of Thee by love's imparting, and to feed me by inflaming, and by feeding to kindle my yearning, and by kindling to make me drink of the dew of gladness, and by drinking to infuse in me a fountain of life, and by infusing to make it increase and endure.

Love is the greatest thing that God can give us; for Himself is love: and it is the greatest thing read more

Love is the greatest thing that God can give us; for Himself is love: and it is the greatest thing we can give to God; for it will also give ourselves, and carry with it all that is ours. The apostle calls it the band of perfection; it is the old, and it is the new, and it is the great commandment, and it is all the commandments; for it is the fulfilling of the Law. It does the work of all the graces without any instrument but its own immediate virtue. For as the love of sin makes a man sin against all his own reason, and all the discourses of wisdom, and all the advices of his friends, and without temptation and without opportunity, so does the love of God: it makes a man chaste without the laborious arts of fasting and exterior disciplines, temperate in the midst of feasts, and is active enough to choose it without any intermedial appetites, and reaches at glory through the very heart of grace, without any other aims but those of love. It is a grace that loves God for Himself, and our neighbors for God. The consideration of God's goodness and bounty, the experience of those profitable and excellent emanations from Him, may be, and most commonly are, the first motive of our love; but when we are once entered, and have tasted the goodness of God, we love the spring for its own excellency, passing from passion to reason, from thanking to adoring, from sense to spirit, from considering ourselves to union with God: and this is the image and little representation of heaven; it is beatitude in picture, or rather the infancy and beginning of glory.

Nationalism is a silly cock crowing on his own dunghill.

Nationalism is a silly cock crowing on his own dunghill.

Commemoration of Remigius, Bishop of Rheims, Apostle of the Franks, 533 Commemoration of Thérèse of Lisieux, Carmelite Nun, Spiritual Writer, read more

Commemoration of Remigius, Bishop of Rheims, Apostle of the Franks, 533 Commemoration of Thérèse of Lisieux, Carmelite Nun, Spiritual Writer, 1897 Most of our conflicts and difficulties come from trying to deal with the spiritual and practical aspects of our life separately instead of realizing them as parts of one whole. If our practical life is centered on our own interests, cluttered up by possessions, distracted by ambitions, passions, wants and worries, beset by a sense of our own rights and importance, or anxieties for our own future, or longings for our own success, we need not expect that our spiritual life will be a contrast to all this. The soul's house is not built on such a convenient plan; there are few soundproof partitions in it. Only when the conviction -- not merely the idea -- that the demand of the Spirit, however inconvenient, rules the whole of it, will those objectionable noises die down which have a way of penetrating into the nicely furnished little oratory and drowning all the quieter voices by their din.