Taken as practical counsel for survival, the Fifth Commandment is now almost a dead letter. Yet if our world were read more

Taken as practical counsel for survival, the Fifth Commandment is now almost a dead letter. Yet if our world were truly Christian, the change might be a reason for rejoicing. We no longer need our families -- we are therefore free to love them with complete unselfishness. Now at last it is possible to honour our parents genuinely, because they no longer have the power to kill us if we don't. The old sort of honour was sometimes an ugly sham: the son who respects Father only out of fear of punishment is not much of a son, just as the Christian who worships God only out of fear of hell is precious little of a Christian. But the new sort of honour can be a beautiful and holy thing. There are many sweet and sane families bound together by love; there are plenty of experts who remind us that only love can make the modern family work at all. And one must admit that there are plenty of parents very willing to be honoured. The catch is that not so many of them are willing to be honourable.

Feast of Henry Martyn, Translator of the Scriptures, Missionary in India & Persia, 1812 I hear no one boast, read more

Feast of Henry Martyn, Translator of the Scriptures, Missionary in India & Persia, 1812 I hear no one boast, that he hath a knowledge of the Scriptures, but that he owneth a Bible written in golden characters. And tell me then, what profiteth this? The Holy Scriptures were not given to us that we should enclose them in books, but that we should engrave them upon our hearts.

Love always involves responsibility, and love always involves sacrifice. And we do not really love Christ unless we are prepared read more

Love always involves responsibility, and love always involves sacrifice. And we do not really love Christ unless we are prepared to face His task and to take up His Cross.

Commemoration of Alphege, Archbishop of Canterbury, Martyr, 1012 Nothing is too great and nothing is too small to commit read more

Commemoration of Alphege, Archbishop of Canterbury, Martyr, 1012 Nothing is too great and nothing is too small to commit into the hands of the Lord.

I have this running quandary about Christmas. I get upset about it, because I feel that we American Christians make read more

I have this running quandary about Christmas. I get upset about it, because I feel that we American Christians make too much of it, and too little. Too little of it, because we pile all sorts of other things onto it, including some that have only the feeblest connection with the Event it is supposed to commemorate. If God did become a man, in any real sense, it is the most important thing that ever happened. Surely we, who believe it, could well devote one day a year to uninterrupted contemplation of the fact, and let Saturnalia fall on the winter solstice, where it belongs. On the other hand, we make so much of the actual birth, and forget the things that make it more than just the birth of a baby (though even that is, in Walt Whitman's phrase, "miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels") -- more, even, than the birth of the greatest man who ever lived. We forget the promise to Eve of a descendant who will solve the problem of Evil; the promise to Abraham of one by whom all mankind will be blessed; the promise to Moses of a greater prophet than he, to arise from his people; and the promise to David of a Son who would be his Master. We forget about the eternal Purpose behind it all: it's like telling a story and leaving out the point. Yes, it is true that God gave us His Son, and so maybe we ought also to give gifts -- but what, and to whom? It is also true that God gave us Himself, and the only sensible response to that is to give ourselves to Him. There is nothing else that He wants from us, or, if there is something, He can take it. Only I, my ego, my heart, is truly mine to give or to withhold -- and is therefore the appropriate gift to Him.

We cannot find in the Old Testament the fondly drawn distinction of our latter days between the natural and the read more

We cannot find in the Old Testament the fondly drawn distinction of our latter days between the natural and the supernatural, for the whole of the natural order is so directly linked with God that its conservation must be regarded as a kind of continuous creation, quite as dependent on God's creative Word as when first the heavens and the earth were made.

I do not believe anyone ever yet humbly, genuinely, thoroughly gave himself to Christ without some other finding Christ through read more

I do not believe anyone ever yet humbly, genuinely, thoroughly gave himself to Christ without some other finding Christ through him.

Feast of Teresa of Avila, Mystic, Teacher, 1582 It was no exceptional thing for Jesus to withdraw Himself "into read more

Feast of Teresa of Avila, Mystic, Teacher, 1582 It was no exceptional thing for Jesus to withdraw Himself "into the wilderness to pray." He was never for one moment of any day out of touch with God. He was speaking and listening to the Father all day long; and yet He, who was in such constant touch with God, felt the need, as well as the joy, of more prolonged and more quiet communion with Him... Most of the reasons that drive us to pray for strength and forgiveness could never have driven Him; and yet He needed prayer.

Feast of Etheldreda, Abbess of Ely, c.678 Man is challenged to participate in the sufferings of God at the read more

Feast of Etheldreda, Abbess of Ely, c.678 Man is challenged to participate in the sufferings of God at the hands of a godless world. He must therefore plunge himself into the life of a godless world, without attempting to gloss over its ungodliness with a veneer of religion or trying to transfigure it. He must live a 'worldly' life and so participate in the suffering of God. He may live a worldly life as one emancipated from all false religions and obligations. To be a Christian does not mean to be religious in a particular way, to cultivate some particular form of asceticism (as a sinner, a penitent, or a saint), but to be a man. It is not some religious act which makes a Christian what he is, but participation in the suffering of God in the life of the world.