Commemoration of Clement, Bishop of Rome, Martyr, c.100 There are great limits upon the human imagination. We can read more

Commemoration of Clement, Bishop of Rome, Martyr, c.100 There are great limits upon the human imagination. We can only rearrange the elements God has provided. No one can create a new primary color, a third sex, a fourth dimension, or a completely original animal. Even by writing a book, planting a garden, or begetting a child, we never create anything in the strict sense; we only take part in God's creation.

Never does nature say one thing and wisdom another.

Never does nature say one thing and wisdom another.

Commemoration of William Wilberforce, Social Reformer, 1833 The generality of nominal Christians... are almost entirely taken up with the read more

Commemoration of William Wilberforce, Social Reformer, 1833 The generality of nominal Christians... are almost entirely taken up with the concerns of the present world. They know indeed that they are mortal, but they do not feel it. The truth rests in their understandings, and cannot gain admission into their hearts. This speculative persuasion is altogether different from that strong practical impression of the infinite importance of eternal things, which, attended with a proportionate sense of the shortness and uncertainty of all below, while it prompts to activity from a conviction that the night cometh when no man can work, produces a certain firmness of texture, which hardens us against the buffetings of fortune, and prevents our being very deeply penetrated by the cares and interests, the good or evil, of this transitory state.

Feast of Benedict of Nursia, Father of Western Monasticism, c.550 And have the bright immensities received our risen Lord Where read more

Feast of Benedict of Nursia, Father of Western Monasticism, c.550 And have the bright immensities received our risen Lord Where light-years frame the Pleiades and point Orion's sword? Do flaming suns his footsteps trace through corridors sublime, The Lord of interstellar space and Conqueror of time? The heaven that hides Him from our sight knows neither near nor far: An altar candle sheds its light as surely as a star; And where His loving people meet to share the gift divine, There stands He with unhurrying feet, and Heaven's splendors shine.

But, you object, a heart like mine can offer Christ so little -- at best, so poor and pinched and read more

But, you object, a heart like mine can offer Christ so little -- at best, so poor and pinched and stingey a hospitality and such meagre fare; for I have nothing worthy of Him to set before Him, only a kind of affection, real enough at times, but which, at others, can and does so easily forget; only a will, quite unreliable, deplorably unstable; only a faith that is the merest shadow of what His real friends mean when they speak about faith, I know. But, there was once a garret up under the roof, a poor, bare place enough. There was a table in it, and there were some benches, and a water-pot; a towel, and a basin in behind the door, but not much else -- a bare, unhomelike room. But the Lord Christ entered into it. And, from that moment, it became the holiest of all, where souls innumerable ever since have met the Lord God, in High glory, face to face. And, if you give Him entrance to that very ordinary heart of yours, it too He will transform and sanctify and touch with a splendour of glory.

We have need of patience with ourselves and with others; with those below and those above us, and with our read more

We have need of patience with ourselves and with others; with those below and those above us, and with our own equals; with those who love us and those who love us not; for the greatest things and for the least; against sudden inroads of trouble, and under daily burdens; against disappointments as to the weather, or the breaking of the heart; in the weariness of the body, or the wearing of the soul; in our own failure of duty, or others' failure towards us; in every-day wants, or in the aching of sickness or the decay of old age; in disappointment, bereavement, losses, injuries, reproaches; in heaviness of the heart, or its sickness amid delayed hopes. In all these things, from childhood's little troubles to the martyr's sufferings, patience is the grace of God, whereby we endure evil for the love of God.

Feast of Timothy and Titus, Companions of Paul Commemoration of Dorothy Kerin, Founder of the Burrswood Healing Community, 1963 read more

Feast of Timothy and Titus, Companions of Paul Commemoration of Dorothy Kerin, Founder of the Burrswood Healing Community, 1963 Social enthusiasms have such power today, they raise people so effectively to the supreme degree of heroism in suffering and death, that I think it is as well that a few sheep should remain outside the fold in order to bear witness that the love of Christ is essentially something different.

If you were to rise early every morning, as an instance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence, as read more

If you were to rise early every morning, as an instance of self-denial, as a method of renouncing indulgence, as a means of redeeming your time and of fitting your spirit for prayer, you would find mighty advantages from it. This method, though it seem such a small circumstance of life, would in all probability be a means [toward] great piety. It would keep it constantly in your head that softness and idleness were to be avoided and that self-denial was a part of Christianity... It would teach you to exercise power over yourself, and make you able by degrees to renounce other pleasures and tempers that war against the soul.

What power has love but forgiveness?

What power has love but forgiveness?