CHRISTMAS DAY He has come! the Christ of God; Left for us His glad abode, Stooping from His throne of read more

CHRISTMAS DAY He has come! the Christ of God; Left for us His glad abode, Stooping from His throne of bliss, To this darksome wilderness. He has come! the Prince of Peace; Come to bid our sorrows cease; Come to scatter with His light All the darkness of our night. He, the Mighty King, has come! Making this poor world His home; Come to bear our sin's sad load,-- Son of David, Son of God! He has come whose name of grace Speaks deliverance to our race; Left for us His glad abode,-- Son of Mary, Son of God! Unto us a Child is born! Ne'er has earth beheld a morn, Among all the morns of time, Half so glorious in its prime! Unto us a Son is given! He has come from God's own heaven, Bringing with Him, from above, Holy peace and holy love.

If criticism has made such discoveries as to necessitate the abandonment of the doctrine of plenary inspiration, it is not read more

If criticism has made such discoveries as to necessitate the abandonment of the doctrine of plenary inspiration, it is not enough to say that we are compelled to abandon only a "particular theory of inspiration..." We must go on to say that that "particular theory of inspiration" is the theory of the apostles and of the Lord, and that in abandoning it we are abandoning them.

Commemoration of Remigius, Bishop of Rheims, Apostle of the Franks, 533 Commemoration of Thérèse of Lisieux, Carmelite Nun, Spiritual Writer, read more

Commemoration of Remigius, Bishop of Rheims, Apostle of the Franks, 533 Commemoration of Thérèse of Lisieux, Carmelite Nun, Spiritual Writer, 1897 People talk about special providences. I believe in the providences, but not in the speciality. I do not believe that God lets the thread of my affairs go for six days, and on the seventh evening takes it up for a moment.

Commemoration of Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury, 1099 These things I did not see by the help of man, nor read more

Commemoration of Osmund, Bishop of Salisbury, 1099 These things I did not see by the help of man, nor by the letter, though they are written in the letter; but I saw them in the light of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by his immediate Spirit and power, as did the Holy men of God, by whom the Holy Scriptures were written. Yet I had no slight esteem of the Holy Scriptures; they were very precious to me, for I was in that spirit by which they were given forth; and what the Lord opened in me, I afterwards found was agreeable to them.

This outer world is but the pictured scroll Of worlds within the soul; A colored chart, a blazoned missal-book read more

This outer world is but the pictured scroll Of worlds within the soul; A colored chart, a blazoned missal-book Wherein who rightly look May spell the splendors with their mortal eyes, And steer to Paradise.

Feast of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, Martyr, 1170 Oh, how precious is time, and how it pains read more

Feast of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, Martyr, 1170 Oh, how precious is time, and how it pains me to see it slide away, while I do so little to any good purpose. Oh, that God would make me more fruitful and spiritual.

Commemoration of Charles de Foucauld, Hermit, Servant of the Poor, 1916 Assuredly there is but one way in read more

Commemoration of Charles de Foucauld, Hermit, Servant of the Poor, 1916 Assuredly there is but one way in which to achieve what is not merely difficult but utterly against human nature: to love those who hate us, to repay their evil deeds with benefits, to return blessings for reproaches. It is that we remember not to consider men's evil intention but to look upon the image of God in them, which cancels and effaces their transgressions, and with its beauty and dignity allures us to love and embrace them.

Lord Jesus Christ! A whole life long didst thou suffer that I too might be saved; and yet thy suffering read more

Lord Jesus Christ! A whole life long didst thou suffer that I too might be saved; and yet thy suffering is not yet at an end; but this too wilt thou endure, saving and redeeming me, this patient suffering of having to do with me, I who so often go astray from the right path, or even when I remained on the straight path stumbled along it or crept so slowly along the right path. Infinite patience, suffering of infinite patience. How many times have I not been impatient, wished to give up and forsake everything; wished to take the terribly easy way out, despair: but thou didst not lose patience. Oh, I cannot say what thy chosen servant says: that he filled up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in his flesh; no, I can only say that I increased thy sufferings, added new ones to those which thou didst once suffer in order to save me.

Yes,--rather plunge me back in pagan night,
And take my chance with Socrates for bliss,
Than be read more

Yes,--rather plunge me back in pagan night,
And take my chance with Socrates for bliss,
Than be the Christian of a faith like this,
Which builds on heavenly cant its earthly sway,
And in a convert mourns to lose a prey.