As Christ drew near to death, He Himself trembled. It was an experience of all His creation, but He had read more

As Christ drew near to death, He Himself trembled. It was an experience of all His creation, but He had never felt it. To His humanity, His assumed flesh, it seemed terrible -- Gethsemane bears witness how terrible it seemed; but He passed into it for love of us.

Lord, come away; Why dost thou stay? Thy road is ready and thy paths made straight With longing expectations wait read more

Lord, come away; Why dost thou stay? Thy road is ready and thy paths made straight With longing expectations wait The consecration of thy beautious feet. Ride on triumphantly; behold! we lay Our lusts and proud wills in thy way. Hosannah! welcome to our hearts: Lord, here Thou hast a temple too, and full as dear As that of Sion; and as full of sin -- Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein; Enter and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor, Crucify them, that they may never more Profane that holy place Where thou hast chose to set thy face. And then if our still tongues shall be Mute in the praises of thy deity, The stones out of the temple wall Shall cry aloud and call Hosannah! and thy glorious footsteps greet.

Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr The Mother sits by the rough-hewn byre where her Baby smiles, and the secret read more

Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr The Mother sits by the rough-hewn byre where her Baby smiles, and the secret fire shines on her face. Her hand rests by an iron spike from the wood thrust high ("The nails in His hands!" ) An open chink in the rude, cold shed lets in the sky, and the Star that led shepherds and kings pours down its light: a silver shaft through the frosty night ("The spear in His side!") Her hands reach out, as to push away the cross-crowned hill and the bloody day; they touch a rough, unyielding wall: the stable side, of stone piled tall ("The stone -- rolled away!").

Feast of Patrick, Bishop of Armagh, Missionary, Patron of Ireland, c.460 The evidence for Christian truth is not read more

Feast of Patrick, Bishop of Armagh, Missionary, Patron of Ireland, c.460 The evidence for Christian truth is not exhaustive, but it is sufficient. Too often, Christianity has not been tried and found wanting--it has been found wanting, and not tried.

Commemoration of Denys, Bishop of Paris, & his Companions, Martyrs, 258 Commemoration of Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, Philosopher, Scientist, read more

Commemoration of Denys, Bishop of Paris, & his Companions, Martyrs, 258 Commemoration of Robert Grosseteste, Bishop of Lincoln, Philosopher, Scientist, 1253 The labor of self-love is a heavy one indeed. Think for yourself whether much of your sorrow has not arisen from someone speaking slightingly of you. As along as you set yourself up as a little god to which you must be loyal, how can you hope to find inward peace?

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.

Some relate ... that the eagle tries the eyes of her young by turning them to the sun; which if read more

Some relate ... that the eagle tries the eyes of her young by turning them to the sun; which if they cannot look steadily on, she rejects them as spurious. We may truly try our faith by immediate intuitions of the Sun of Righteousness. Direct faith to act itself, immediately and directly on the incarnation of Christ and His mediation; and if it be not the right kind and race, it will turn its eyes aside to anything else.

This is great literature and great religious literature, this collection of ancient writings we call the Bible, and any translator read more

This is great literature and great religious literature, this collection of ancient writings we call the Bible, and any translator has a deep sense of responsibility as he undertakes to transmit it to modern readers. He desires his transcript to be faithful to the meaning of the original, so far as he can reach that meaning, and also to do some justice to its literary qualities. But he is well aware that his aim often exceeds his grasp. Translation may be a fascinating task, yet no discipline is more humbling. You may be translating oracles, but soon you learn the risk and folly of posing as an oracle yourself. If your readers are dissatisfied at any point, they may be sure that the translator is still more dissatisfied, if not there, then elsewhere -- all the more so, because, in the nature of the case, he has always to appear dogmatic in print.

We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic read more

We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearth-stone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.