Feast of Thomas the Apostle Long did I toil and knew no earthly rest, Far did I rove and found read more

Feast of Thomas the Apostle Long did I toil and knew no earthly rest, Far did I rove and found no certain home; At last I sought them in His sheltering breast, Who opes His arms and bids the weary come: With Him I found a home, a rest divine, And I, since then, am His, and He is mine. The good I have is from His stores supplied, The ill is only what He deems the best; He for my friend, I'm rich with naught beside, And poor without Him, though of all possessed; Changes may come, I take or I resign Content, while I am His, and He is mine. Whate'er may change, in Him no change is seen, A glorious Sun that wanes not nor declines; Above the storms and clouds He walks serene, And on His people's inward darkness shines; All may depart: I fret not, nor repine, While I my Saviours am, while He is mine. While here, alas! I know but half His love, But half discern Him, and but half adore; But when I meet Him in the realms above I hope to love him better, praise Him more, And feel, and tell, amid the choir divine, How fully I am His, and He is mine.

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, read more

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, Spiritual Writer, 1688 Here in Pilgrim's Progress there is the ultimate human nostalgia for the City of God, which is the restless heart's true home. And even the cynical, the unbelieving and half-believing reader who goes with Christian to the end of the road must be a little shaken, may tremble to see something like a gate and also some of the glory of the place, and, glimpsing something of the company within the golden gates, may wish himself among them.

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, read more

Feast of Aidan, Bishop of Lindisfarne, Missionary, 651 Commemoration of Cuthburga, Founding Abbess of Wimborne, c.725 Commemoration of John Bunyan, Spiritual Writer, 1688 Christians are like the flowers in a garden, that have each of them the dew of Heaven, which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall at each other's roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nourishers of each other.

Those who talk of reading the Bible "as literature" sometimes mean, I think, reading it without attending to the main read more

Those who talk of reading the Bible "as literature" sometimes mean, I think, reading it without attending to the main thing it is about; like reading Burke with no interest in politics, or reading the Aeneid with no interest in Rome... But there is a saner sense in which the Bible -- since it is, after all, literature -- cannot properly be read except as literature, and the different parts of it as the different sorts of literature they are. Most emphatically, the Psalms must be read as poems -- as lyrics, with all the licenses and all the formalities, the hyperboles, the emotional rather than logical connections, which are proper to lyric poetry... Otherwise we shall miss what is in them and think we see what is not.

Feast of Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, c.326 If I now want to add something of my own read more

Feast of Nicholas, Bishop of Myra, c.326 If I now want to add something of my own (i.e., inner assurances) to this faith, if this great and glorious faith is defective and saves me not till I can add my own sense and my own feeling to it at such a time or place, is not this saying in the plainest manner that faith alone cannot justify me? ... All I would say of these inward delights and enjoyments is this: they are not holiness, they are not piety, they are not perfection, but they are God's gracious allurements and calls to seek after holiness and spiritual perfection.

Since the life of Christ is every way most bitter to nature and the Self and the Me (for in read more

Since the life of Christ is every way most bitter to nature and the Self and the Me (for in the true life of Christ, the Self and the Me and nature must be forsaken and lost and die altogether), therefore in each of us, nature hath a deep horror of it.

In vain does anyone pretend that he will be a martyr for his religion, when he will not rule an read more

In vain does anyone pretend that he will be a martyr for his religion, when he will not rule an appetite nor restrain lust nor subdue a passion nor cross his covetousness and ambition for the sake of it, and in hope of that eternal life which God that cannot lie hath promised. He that refuses to do the less is not like to do the greater. It is very improbable that a man will die for his religion, when he cannot be persuaded to live according to it. He that cannot take up a resolution to live a saint, hath a demonstration within himself that he is never like to die a martyr.

C. S. Lewis Centennial Holding [the Way of Affirmation], we see that every created thing is, in its degree, read more

C. S. Lewis Centennial Holding [the Way of Affirmation], we see that every created thing is, in its degree, an image of God, and the ordinate and faithful appreciation of that thing a clue, which, truly followed, will lead back to Him. Holding [the Way of Rejection], we see that every created thing, the highest devotion to moral duty, the purest conjugal love, the saint and the seraph, is no more than an image; that every one of them, followed for its own sake and isolated from its source, becomes an idol whose service is damnation.

As to deliberate mortifications -- I take it you do feel satisfied that you accept fully those God sends. That read more

As to deliberate mortifications -- I take it you do feel satisfied that you accept fully those God sends. That being so, you might perhaps do one or two little things, as acts of love, and also as discipline. I suggest by preference the mortification of the tongue -- as being very tiresome and quite harmless to the health. Careful guard on all amusing criticisms of others, on all complaints however casual or trivial.