Any alleged Christianity which fails to express itself in cheerfulness, at some point, is clearly spurious. The Christian is cheerful, read more

Any alleged Christianity which fails to express itself in cheerfulness, at some point, is clearly spurious. The Christian is cheerful, not because he is blind to injustice and suffering, but because he is convinced that these, in the light of the divine sovereignty, are never ultimate.

Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: I have called my material surroundings a stage set. In this I can read more

Continuing a Lenten series on prayer: I have called my material surroundings a stage set. In this I can act. And you may well say "act". For what I call "myself" (for all practical, everyday purposes) is also a dramatic construction; memories, glimpses in the shavinglass, and snatches of the very fallible activity called "introspection", are the principal ingredients. Normally I call this construction "me"' and the stage set "the real world". Now the moment of prayer is for me -- or involves for me as its condition -- the awareness, the reawakened awareness, that this "real world" and "real self" are very far from being rock-bottom realities. I cannot, in the flesh, leave the stage, either to go behind the scenes or to take my seat in the pit; but I can remember that these regions exist. And I also remember that my apparent self -- this clown or hero or super -- under his grease-paint is a real person with an off-stage life. The dramatic person could not tread the stage unless he concealed a real person: unless the real and unknown I existed, I would not even make mistakes about the imagined me. And in prayer this real I struggles to speak, for once, from his real being, and to address, for once, not the other actors, but -- what shall I call Him? The Author, for He invented us all? The Producer, for He controls all? Or the Audience, for He watches, and will judge, the performance?

Feast of Benedict of Nursia, Father of Western Monasticism, c.550 Christian history looks glorious in retrospect; but it is read more

Feast of Benedict of Nursia, Father of Western Monasticism, c.550 Christian history looks glorious in retrospect; but it is made up of constant hard choices and unattractive tasks, accepted under the pressure of the Will of God.

Commemoration of Brigid, Abbess of Kildare, c.525 We can all call to mind movements which have begun as pure read more

Commemoration of Brigid, Abbess of Kildare, c.525 We can all call to mind movements which have begun as pure upsurges of fresh spiritual vitality, breaking through and revolting against the hardened structure of the older body, and claiming, in the name of the Spirit, liberty from outward forms and institutions. And we have seen how rapidly they develop their own forms, their own structures of thought, of language, and of organisation. It would surely be a very unbiblical view of human nature and history to think -- as we so often, in our pagan way, do -- that this is just an example of the tendency of all things to slide down from a golden age to an age of iron, to identify the spiritual with the disembodied, and to regard visible structure as equivalent to sin. We must rather recognise here a testimony to the fact that Christianity is, in its very heart and essence, not a disembodied spirituality, but life in a visible fellowship, a life which makes such total claim upon us, and so engages our total powers, that nothing less than the closest and most binding association of men with one another can serve its purpose.

Impersonal realities do indeed exercise over me some kinds of constraint, as does the wind when it constrains me to read more

Impersonal realities do indeed exercise over me some kinds of constraint, as does the wind when it constrains me to battle against it or the rain when it compels me to take shelter. But the constraint of which I have been speaking is of a wholly different kind; it is a constraint to be pure-minded and loyal-hearted, to be kind and true and tender, and to love my neighbour as myself. And what could possibly be meant by saying that any reality of an impersonal kind could exercise over me such a constraint as that? I have never been able to see that it could mean anything at all. I have never been able to see how any being that is not a person could possess a moral and spiritual claim over me.

Commemoration of Thomas Merton, Monk, Spiritual Writer, 1968 They only renounce the world as they ought, who live in read more

Commemoration of Thomas Merton, Monk, Spiritual Writer, 1968 They only renounce the world as they ought, who live in the midst of it without worldly tempers, who comply with their share in the offices of human life without complying with the spirit that reigneth in the world.

Commemoration of Johann Sebastian Bach, musician, 1750 Let us go and wake up the universe... and sing His read more

Commemoration of Johann Sebastian Bach, musician, 1750 Let us go and wake up the universe... and sing His praises.

Commemoration of John Mason Neale, Priest, Poet, 1866 The word "carnal" is ambiguous. "Flesh" means sin and corruption, and read more

Commemoration of John Mason Neale, Priest, Poet, 1866 The word "carnal" is ambiguous. "Flesh" means sin and corruption, and is opposed to the Spirit; but embodiment, outward manifestation, concrete form, is not opposed to the Spirit. "Carnal" means sinful and hostile to God; the evil spirits, who we suppose possess no bodies, are carnal, but the Son of God became man, the Word was made flesh, He took upon Him a human body as well as a reasonable soul. God's ways and thoughts are not ours. While the abstract and ethereal imaginations of human reason create a god, who is not spirit, and whom they do not worship in spirit and truth, the God of the Bible is God manifest in the flesh -- Emmanuel... Did not Jesus, after His resurrection, eat before His disciples, who gave Him a piece of a broiled fish and honey? Is not the earth to be the scene of God's triumph and manifestation? Whatever is revealed in spiritual, whatever man imagines is carnal; the end of the ways of God is embodiment.

Feast of William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, Teacher, 1944 Gambling challenges the view of life which the Christian Church read more

Feast of William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, Teacher, 1944 Gambling challenges the view of life which the Christian Church exists to uphold and extend. Its glorification of mere chance is a denial of the Divine order of nature. To risk money haphazard is to disregard the insistence of the Church in every age of living faith that possessions are a trust, and that men must account to God for their use. The persistent appeal to covetousness is fundamentally opposed to the unselfishness which was taught by Jesus Christ and by the New Testament as a whole. The attempt (which is inseparable from gambling) to make a profit out of the inevitable loss and possible suffering of others is the antithesis of that love of one's neighbour on which our Lord insisted.