Commemoration of Frederick Denison Maurice, Priest, teacher, 1872 We can do nothing, we say sometimes, we can only pray. read more

Commemoration of Frederick Denison Maurice, Priest, teacher, 1872 We can do nothing, we say sometimes, we can only pray. That, we feel, is a terribly precarious second-best. So long as we can fuss and work and rush about, so long as we can lend a hand, we have some hope; but if we have to fall back upon God -- ah, then things must be critical indeed!

My own idea, for what it is worth, is that all sadness which is not now either arising from the read more

My own idea, for what it is worth, is that all sadness which is not now either arising from the repentance of a concrete sin and hastening towards concrete amendment or restitution, or else arising from pity and hastening towards active assistance, is simply bad.

There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual walk read more

There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual walk with God. Those only can comprehend it who practice and experience it; yet I do not advise you to do it from that motive.

No literary fact is more remarkable than that men, knowing what these writers knew, and feeling what they felt, should read more

No literary fact is more remarkable than that men, knowing what these writers knew, and feeling what they felt, should have given us chronicles so plain and calm. They have nothing to say as from themselves. Their narratives place us without preface, and keep us without comment, among external scenes, in full view of facts, and in contact with the living person whom they teach us to know... Who can fail to recognize a divine provision for placing the disciples of all future ages as nearly as possible in the position of those who had been personally present at "the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God"?

One of the heritages from history which prevents us so often from seeing the Church, with all its greatness and read more

One of the heritages from history which prevents us so often from seeing the Church, with all its greatness and misery, in its true light, is the distinction between the "empirical" and the "ideal" Church. It is to such a degree an element of our thinking that we hardly notice it. It has been since the first centuries a standard view, a means to give account of the, indeed, often disappointing state and quality of Christian faith and practice in the Church as it appeared. As such it is understandable; but nevertheless it proceeds more from the counsels of worldly wisdom than from the faith-as-response by which the Church should live, and the call to incessant renewal under which the Church stands as "God's own household", "growing into a holy temple in the Lord". However stubborn and refractory the stuff of ordinary reality may be -- and it is -- the Church, though with clear realism seeing this reality, can never permit itself to put the divine indicatives and imperatives, which are her peculiar directives and points of orientation, behind considerations which are properly speaking worldly in character.

The church has magnificent buildings, superb equipment, trained leadership, excellent teaching materials, organizational ability, and yet lacks that one thing read more

The church has magnificent buildings, superb equipment, trained leadership, excellent teaching materials, organizational ability, and yet lacks that one thing that could take all these tools and make them the channel of God's will. In spite of its ever-increasing membership, the church lacks the spirit of God's growing love and understanding that can transform it from an efficient organization into a loving, dynamic fellowship where men and women become vitally alive with faith, love, and hope.

In Christianity neither morality nor religion come into contact with reality at any point.

In Christianity neither morality nor religion come into contact with reality at any point.

Continuing a short series on education: It is ironic that, although fundamentalists are implacably opposed to liberalism, their read more

Continuing a short series on education: It is ironic that, although fundamentalists are implacably opposed to liberalism, their extreme reaction shows the same weakness. They, too, stress the leap of faith and make irrationality almost a principle, dismissing the serious questions of seeking modern men as intellectual smoke-screens or diversions to conceal deeper personal problems. All this masks a desperate intellectual insecurity, barely disguised by the surrounding hedge of taboos to preserve purity. The strident intolerance of much guilt-driven evangelism betrays the same insecurity. In these circles, much that is taught has to be unlearned in the wider school of life, and it is not surprising that universities are littered with dropouts from such groups. Their non-rational, subjective faith is cruelly punctured by varsity-level questions, and many manage to survive only by resorting to a severely schizophrenic faith which they hold to be true religiously but not intellectually, historically, or scientifically.

Division has always been a disease of the church... The Love Feast, which should have been the sign and symbol read more

Division has always been a disease of the church... The Love Feast, which should have been the sign and symbol of perfect unity, has become a thing of divisions and class distinctions. And here there is something which only the newer translations reveal. In the older translations, it is said that to eat and drink at the sacrament without discerning the Lord's body is the way to judgment and not to salvation. But in the best Greek text, the word Lord's is not included. The sin is not to discern the body; that is to say, not to discern that the church is a body, not to be aware of the oneness of the church, not to be aware of the togetherness in which all its members should be joined.