Feast of Monica, Mother of Augustine of Hippo, 387 Augustine shows clearly the religious character of sin. Sin for read more

Feast of Monica, Mother of Augustine of Hippo, 387 Augustine shows clearly the religious character of sin. Sin for him is not a moral failure; it is not even disobedience. Disobedience is a consequence but not the cause. The cause is: turning away from God, and from God as the highest good, as the love with which God loves Himself, through us. For this reason, since sin has this character -- if you say "sins", it is easily dissolved into moral sins; but sin is first of all basically the power of turning away from God. For this very reason, no moral remedy is possible. Only one remedy is possible: return to God. But this of course is possible only in the power of God, and this power is lost. This is the state of man under the conditions of existence.

Feast of Patrick, Bishop of Armagh, Missionary, Patron of Ireland, c.460 Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: As a read more

Feast of Patrick, Bishop of Armagh, Missionary, Patron of Ireland, c.460 Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: As a physician, I have seen men, after all other therapy has failed, lifted out of disease and melancholy by the serene effort of prayer. It is the only power in the world that seems to overcome the so-called "laws of nature"; the occasions on which prayer has dramatically done this have been termed "miracles". But a constant, quieter miracle takes place hourly in the hearts of men and women who have discovered that prayer supplies them with a steady flow of sustaining power in their daily lives.

Continuing a series on the person of Jesus: Jesus is honey in the mouth, music in the ear, a read more

Continuing a series on the person of Jesus: Jesus is honey in the mouth, music in the ear, a song of gladness in the heart.

Feast of Andrew the Apostle This means that we do not know what are the limits of human history, read more

Feast of Andrew the Apostle This means that we do not know what are the limits of human history, but it does not mean that there are no real limits. It is important to assert this, because if we do not do so, the limit which we know apart from Christ becomes determinative of our outlook. That limit is death -- the death of the individual, and the death of the social structure in which his corporate personality is embodied. When these are the only limits that men know, then they are left in a hopeless alternation between hope for an individual survival of death, which evacuates their corporate life of ultimate significance, and hope for the eternity of some social or political or cultural achievement, which evacuates personal existence of ultimate significance. This false alternation is overcome in Christ in whom we are brought into relation with the true limit -- a consummation of all things in which both the significance of each personal life and the significance of history as a whole are to be gathered up.

A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are read more

A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough... It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again," to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again," to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike: it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.

Every time the words "contrition" or "humility" drop from the lips of a prophet or psalmist, Christianity appears.

Every time the words "contrition" or "humility" drop from the lips of a prophet or psalmist, Christianity appears.

Commemoration of Bartolomè de las Casas, Apostle to the Indies, 1566 Of course, it all depends upon what we read more

Commemoration of Bartolomè de las Casas, Apostle to the Indies, 1566 Of course, it all depends upon what we are praying for. If we are whimpering, and sniveling, and begging to be spared the discipline of life that is sent to knock some smatterings of manhood into us, the answer to that prayer may never come at all. Thank God! Though, indeed, it is not easy to say that, with honesty. Still, it may never come at all, thank God. But if you have attained as far as Epictetus--pagan though you would call him--whose daily prayer was this: "O God, give me what Thou desirest for me, for I know that what Thou choosest for me is far better than I could choose"; if you are not bleating to get off, but asking to be given grace and strength to see this through with honour, "the very day" you pray that prayer, the answer always comes.

Feast of Anselm, Abbot of Le Bec, Archbishop of Canterbury, Teacher, 1109 I hear men praying everywhere for read more

Feast of Anselm, Abbot of Le Bec, Archbishop of Canterbury, Teacher, 1109 I hear men praying everywhere for more faith, but when I listen to them carefully, and get to the real heart of their prayer, very often it is not more faith at all that they are wanting, but a change from faith to sight. Faith says not, "I see that it is good for me, so God must have sent it," but, "God sent it, and so it must be good for me." Faith, walking in the dark with God, only prays Him to clasp its hand more closely.

Many people not only lose the benefit, but are even the worse for their mortifications [i.e., sacrifices, abstensions], ... because read more

Many people not only lose the benefit, but are even the worse for their mortifications [i.e., sacrifices, abstensions], ... because they mistake the whole nature and worth of them: they practice them for their own sakes, as things good in themselves, they think them to be real parts of holiness, and so rest in them and look no further, but grow full of a self-esteem and self-admiration for their own progress in them. This makes them self-sufficient, morose, severe judges of all those that fall short of their mortifications. And thus their self-denials do only that for them which indulgences do for other people: they withstand and hinder the operation of God upon their souls, and instead of being really self-denials, they strengthen and keep up the kingdom of self.