[At the Garden of Olives Monastery] "Why are you all so quiet all the time?" I say, still whispering read more

[At the Garden of Olives Monastery] "Why are you all so quiet all the time?" I say, still whispering at him in this hoarse voice. "We are teachers and workers," he says, "not talkers." "Workers, O.K.," I say, "but how can a teacher be quiet all the time and teach anybody anything?" "Christ was the best," he says, thinking of something. "He lived thirty-three years. Thirty years he kept quiet; three years he talked. Ten to one for keeping quiet.".

O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian and thy loving read more

O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian and thy loving wife!

Palm Sunday Commemoration of William Augustus Muhlenberg of New York, Priest, 1877 The entrance into Jerusalem [on Palm read more

Palm Sunday Commemoration of William Augustus Muhlenberg of New York, Priest, 1877 The entrance into Jerusalem [on Palm Sunday] has all the elements of the theatre of the absurd: the poor king; truth comes riding on a donkey; symbolic actions -- even parading without a permit! Also, when Jesus "set his face to go to Jerusalem," what was involved was direct action, an open confrontation and public demonstration of the incompatibility of evil with the Kingdom of God.

The heart is commonly reached, not through the reason, but through the imagination, by means of direct impressions, by the read more

The heart is commonly reached, not through the reason, but through the imagination, by means of direct impressions, by the testimony of facts and events, by history, by description. Persons influence us, voices melt us, looks subdue us, deeds inflame us.

Feast of Thomas Ken, Bishop of Bath & Wells, Hymnographer, 1711 [My father's] common salutation of his family read more

Feast of Thomas Ken, Bishop of Bath & Wells, Hymnographer, 1711 [My father's] common salutation of his family or friends, on the Lord's day in the morning, was that of the primitive Christians: "The Lord is risen, He is risen indeed"; making it his chief business on that day to celebrate the memory of Christ's resurrection.

Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie! read more

Feast of Stephen, Deacon, First Martyr O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by: Yet in thy dark streets shineth The everlasting Light; The hopes and fears of all the years Are met in thee tonight. For Christ is born of Mary; And gathered all above, While mortals sleep, the angels keep Their watch of wondering love. O morning stars together Proclaim the holy birth; And praises sing to God the King, And peace to men on earth. How silently, how silently, The wondrous gift is giv'n! So God imparts to human hearts The blessings of His Heav'n. No ear may hear His coming, But in this world of sin, Where meek souls will receive Him still, The dear Christ enters in. O holy Child of Bethlehem, Descend to us, we pray, Cast out our sins, and enter in, Be born in us today. We hear the Christmas angels The great glad tidings tell; O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Emmanuel.

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 Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, & his sister Macrina, Teachers, c.394 & c.379 Humility is the root, mother, read more

Feast of Gregory, Bishop of Nyssa, & his sister Macrina, Teachers, c.394 & c.379 Humility is the root, mother, nurse, foundation, and bond of all virtue.

Maundy Thursday Commemoration of Frederick Denison Maurice, Priest, teacher, 1872 In the whole range of history there is read more

Maundy Thursday Commemoration of Frederick Denison Maurice, Priest, teacher, 1872 In the whole range of history there is no more striking contrast than that of the Apostolic churches with the heathenism around them. They had shortcomings enough, it is true, and divisions and scandals not a few, for even apostolic times were no golden age of purity and primitive simplicity. Yet we can see that their fullness of life, and hope, and promise for the future, were a new sort of power in the world. Within their own limits they had solved almost by the way the social problem which baffled Rome, and baffles Europe still. They had lifted woman to her rightful place, restored the dignity of labour, abolished beggary, and drawn the sting of slavery. The secret of the revolution is that the selfishness of race and class were forgotten in the Supper of the Lord, and a new basis for society found in love of the visible image of God in men for whom Christ died.