Commemoration of Francis Xavier, Apostle of the Indies, Missionary, 1552 It is a rare campus indeed where the Christian universe of discourse is the shared basis of allegiance and the common currency of intellectual exchange. More likely, the Christian faith is an archaic facade, a bit of Victorian fretwork on the front of the house, of which polite note is made at Commencement, but not the common premise of teaching and research and learning.
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Commemoration of Gladys Aylward, Missionary in China, 1970 George Brush, the hero of [Thornton Wilder's] "Heaven's My Destination", read more
Commemoration of Gladys Aylward, Missionary in China, 1970 George Brush, the hero of [Thornton Wilder's] "Heaven's My Destination", a textbook salesman and evangelist extraordinary, is the innocent fool, in the kindliest sense of both the noun and the adjective. He is striving to be the fool in Christ, sowing the inevitable amazement, consternation and wrath that must ensue when Christ's fool runs at large among the worldly wise.
Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 A Better Resurrection I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart read more
Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 A Better Resurrection I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numbed too much for hopes or fears. Look right, look left, I dwell alone; I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf: O Jesus, quicken me. My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk: Truly my life is void and brief And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see: Yet rise it shall--the sap of spring; O Jesus, rise in me. My life is like a broken bowl, A broken bowl that cannot hold One drop of water for my soul Or cordial in the searching cold; Cast in the fire the perished thing; Melt and remould it, till it be A royal cup for Him, my King: O Jesus, drink of me.
God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on read more
God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illuminated by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder the source of which is beyond all reason.
They cast their nets in Galilee, just off the hills of brown; Such happy, simple fisherfolk, before the Lord came read more
They cast their nets in Galilee, just off the hills of brown; Such happy, simple fisherfolk, before the Lord came down. Contented, peaceful fishermen, before they ever knew The peace of God that filled their hearts brimful, and broke them too. Young John who trimmed the flapping sail, homeless in Patmos died. Peter, who hauled the teeming net, head-down was crucified. The peace of God, it is no peace, but strife closed in the sod; Yet, brothers, pray for but one thing -- the marvelous peace of God.
It is sottish ignorance and infidelity to suppose that, under the Gospel, there is no communication between God and us read more
It is sottish ignorance and infidelity to suppose that, under the Gospel, there is no communication between God and us but what is, on His part, in laws, commands, and promises; and an ours, by obedience performed in our strength and upon our convictions unto them. To exclude hence the real internal operations of the Holy Ghost, is to destroy the Gospel.
Commemoration of Johann Sebastian Bach, musician, 1750 Jesus, priceless treasure, source of purest pleasure Truest friend to me; Long read more
Commemoration of Johann Sebastian Bach, musician, 1750 Jesus, priceless treasure, source of purest pleasure Truest friend to me; Long my heart has panted, till it well-nigh fainted, Thirsting after Thee. Thine I am, O spotless Lamb; I will suffer naught to hide Thee, Ask for naught beside Thee. In Thine arm I rest me; foes who would molest me Cannot reach me here. Though the earth be shaking, every heart be quaking, God dispels our fear. Sin and hell in conflict fell With their heaviest storms assail us: Jesus will not fail us. Hence, all thoughts of sadness! For the Lord of gladness, Jesus, enters in: Those who love the Father, though the storms may gather, Still have peace within; Yes, whate'er we here must bear, Still in Thee lies purest pleasure, Jesus, priceless treasure!
Commemoration of James Hannington, Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, Martyr in Uganda, 1885 Give me a stout heart to read more
Commemoration of James Hannington, Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, Martyr in Uganda, 1885 Give me a stout heart to bear my own burdens. Give me a willing heart to bear the burdens of others. Give me a believing heart to cast all burdens upon Thee, O Lord.
The real presence of Christ's most precious Body and Blood is not to be sought for in the Sacrament, but read more
The real presence of Christ's most precious Body and Blood is not to be sought for in the Sacrament, but in the worthy receiver of the Sacrament.
Feast of Luke the Evangelist He is my Altar, I His holy place; I am His guest, and He my read more
Feast of Luke the Evangelist He is my Altar, I His holy place; I am His guest, and He my living food; I'm His by penitence, He is mine by grace; I'm His by purchase, He is mine by blood; He's my supporting elm, and I His vine: Thus I my Best-beloved's am; thus He is mine.
