Feast of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, Martyr, c.107 Grace is the incomprehensible fact that God is well pleased read more

Feast of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, Martyr, c.107 Grace is the incomprehensible fact that God is well pleased with a man, and that a man can rejoice in God. Only when grace is recognized to be incomprehensible is it grace. Grace exists, therefore, only where the Resurrection is reflected. Grace is the gift of Christ, who exposes the gulf which separates God and man, and, by exposing it, bridges it.

The uncertainty lies always in the intellectual region, never in the practical. What Paul cares about is plain enough to read more

The uncertainty lies always in the intellectual region, never in the practical. What Paul cares about is plain enough to the true heart, however far from plain to the man whose desire to understand goes ahead of his obedience.

Commemoration of Giles of Provence, Hermit, c.710 To do for yourself the best that you have it in read more

Commemoration of Giles of Provence, Hermit, c.710 To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do -- to grit your teeth and clench your fists in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst -- is by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still. The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed secures your life also against being opened up and transformed by the holy power that life itself comes from. You can even prevail on your own. But you cannot become human on your own.

Feast of the Birth of John the Baptist Keep clear of concealment -- keep clear of the need of read more

Feast of the Birth of John the Baptist Keep clear of concealment -- keep clear of the need of concealment. It is an awful hour when the first necessity of hiding something comes. The whole life is different thenceforth. When there are questions to be feared and eyes to be avoided and subjects which must not be touched, the bloom of life is gone.

I was confirmed in my conviction that when all the best scholarship is taken into account we can know Christ read more

I was confirmed in my conviction that when all the best scholarship is taken into account we can know Christ as He was in the days of His flesh. Although I became familiar with the contemporary and recent studies of honest, competent scholars who questioned them, I was convinced that the historical evidence confirms the virgin birth and the bodily resurrection of Christ. Increasingly, I believed that the nearest verbal approach that we human beings can come to the great mystery is to affirm that Christ is both fully man and fully God. Although now we see Him not, yet believing, we can "rejoice with joy unspeakable" in what the Triune God has done and is doing through Him. This Good News, so rich that it is stated in a variety of ways, but always consistently, in the New Testament, is what we always imperfect children, but children [yet], are privileged -- and commanded -- to make known and to demonstrate to all mankind.

Commemoration of Richard Baxter, Priest, Hymnographer, Teacher, 1691 The Spirit was the power manifested in the resurrection of Christ read more

Commemoration of Richard Baxter, Priest, Hymnographer, Teacher, 1691 The Spirit was the power manifested in the resurrection of Christ (Rom. 1:4), in the inner life of man (Rom. 15:13; Eph. 3:16), and in the preaching of the word (I Thess. 1:5; 1 Cor. 2:4). He is the Spirit of life, both now and hereafter (Gal. 6:8; I Cor. 15:45); and the Spirit of assurance, the guarantee of the new life, whereby man obtains confidence towards God and courage in the face of the world's evil (II Cor. 1:22; Rom. 5:5, 8:16, 23; Eph. 1:13, 4:30). Man, therefore, as the dwelling-place of the Spirit, is the inalienable possession of God (I Cor. 3:16, 17, 6:19). (Continued tomorrow).

Commemoration of Thomas Merton, Monk, Spiritual Writer, 1968 This matter of "salvation" is, when seen intuitively, a very read more

Commemoration of Thomas Merton, Monk, Spiritual Writer, 1968 This matter of "salvation" is, when seen intuitively, a very simple thing. But when we analyze it, it turns into a complex tangle of paradoxes. We become ourselves by dying to ourselves. We gain only what we give up, and if we give up everything we gain everything. We cannot find ourselves within ourselves, but only in others; yet at the same time, before we can go out to others we must first find ourselves. We must forget ourselves in order to become truly conscious of who we are. The best way to love ourselves is to love others; yet we cannot love others unless we love ourselves, since it is written, "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." But if we love ourselves in the wrong way, we become incapable of loving anybody else. And indeed when we love ourselves wrongly, we hate ourselves; if we hate ourselves we cannot help hating others. Yet there is a sense in which we must hate others and leave them in order to find God... As for this finding of God, we cannot even look for Him unless we have already found Him, and we cannot find Him unless He has first found us. We cannot begin to seek Him without a special gift of His grace; yet if we wait for grace to move us before beginning to seek Him, we will probably never begin.

If there had anywhere appeared in space Another place of refuge where to flee, Our hearts had read more

If there had anywhere appeared in space Another place of refuge where to flee, Our hearts had taken refuge from that place, And not with Thee. For we against creation's bars had beat Like prisoned eagles, through great worlds had sought Though but a foot of ground to plant our feet, Where Thou wert not. And only when we found in earth and air, In heaven or hell, that such might nowhere be That we could not flee from Thee anywhere, We fled to Thee.

Commemoration of Mellitus, First Bishop of London, 624 Forgiveness breaks the chain of causality because he who forgives you read more

Commemoration of Mellitus, First Bishop of London, 624 Forgiveness breaks the chain of causality because he who forgives you -- out of love -- takes upon himself the consequences of what you have done. Forgiveness, therefore, always entails a sacrifice.