Soul of Christ

  • Chapter Six (Part Two)—In The Light Of God’s Word by Marie Paul Curley
    From Soul of Christ When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.  At three o’clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, “Listen, he is calling for Elijah.”  And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come [...]
Newly added

THE EARTH: The Healing Nature Of Nature

Florence Williams begins her book, The Nature Fix, with a very startling story: A middle-aged Japanese business man with a very serious case of cancer decides to go sit in the forest before he turns himself in for treatment. He stays a few months, and when he walks out again, his cancer is gone. [...]

Earth Psalms

  • Water In The Desert by Francine Rivers
    From: Earth Psalms Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink.  Whoever believes in me, as scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”  By this he meant the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were later to receive. (John 7:37-39) One creature of southwestern Africa is [...]

Heaven on Earth

  • Exile And Promise by R. Alan Streett
    From: Heaven on Earth For Adam and Eve, the consequences of heeding the serpent’s voice are immediate.  First, they become self-conscious and experience shame because of their nakedness.  Second, they become fearful of God and hide from him, (Genesis 3:7-10). But before God addresses the man and woman, he speaks to the serpent: “I will put [...]

My Brilliant Abyss

  • A Noble Ambition by Christian Wiman
    From My Bright Abyss I once believed in some notion of a pure ambition, which I defined as an ambition for the work rather than for oneself.  But now?  If a poet’s ambition were truly for the work and nothing else, he would write under a pseudonym, which would not only preserve that pure space of making but free him from the distractions of [...]

All Things New

  • The Renewal Of All Things, Redux by John Eldredge
    From All Things New Every man has two Battles to wage: In dreams he wrestles with God Awake, with the sea. (Antonio Machado, Proverbs and Song Verse) It was July when my youngest son and his new wife came to visit.  Stasi and I wanted to take them out for a special dinner, the kind newlyweds cannot afford themselves.  We booked an evening at the Broadmoor Hotel, a [...]

The Earth

  • Creation—The Devil Is In the Details
    There is a parallel saying to the title of this essay: God is in the details. When God is in the details then he will be revealed through your attention to detail.  Your sacred devotion to your work will return great rewards. But when the devil is in the details, your lack of attention to the work in front of you will result in mistakes, and you will be disappointed in your effort. I’m [...]

Holy Spirit

The Rosary

Psalms

  • Psalm 109 by W. Robert Godfrey
    From Learning to Love the Psalms The praise of Book Five follows on the prayer for the deliverance of the exiled people near the end of Book Four: “Save us, O Lord our God, and gather us from among the nations, that we may give thanks to your holy name and glory in your praise,” (Psalm 106:47).  Psalm 107 praises God [...]

Grounded

  • We’re Dirt by Diana Butler Bass
    From Grounded  Since human history began, people have wondered how the world came to be – and how we came to be on it.  Our ancestors told stories about creation, the ground under our feet, and the animals, birds, and humans that make their home upon the Earth.  These stories cross all cultural boundaries, and they share similar characteristics and themes.  One of the dominant motifs is the relationship between soil and our souls.  [...]

Nature writing

  • Nature by Ralph Waldo Emerson
    From Nature Chapter I: Nature To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society. I am not solitary whilst I read and write, though nobody is with me. But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those Heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the Heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime. Seen in the [...]

Contemporary Christian poets

  • From A Woman's Life by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: From A Woman’s Life by Maura Eichner

    What Mary knew was just enough for the usual day; pull water, flint fire, bake bread, smile, pray the dark orations, sleep, wake wait. When pain hones a nerve, when birth or dying clotted an hour, she leaned to the curve of living, resilient to fear, laughter, suffering. Partings are a little death. Each one’s journey is a thing wholly without precedent. She looked at the sky for compass. None. She, too, created a road to travel [...]
  • Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    POETRY: Teresa by Richard Wilbur

    After the sun’s eclipse, The brighter angel and the spear which drew A bridal outcry from her open lips, She could not prove it true, Nor think at first of any means to test By what she had been wedded or possessed. Not all cries were the same; there was an island in mythology Called by the very vowels of her name Where vagrants of the sea, Changed by a wand, were made to squeal and cry As heavy captives in a witch’s sty. The proof came soon and plain: Visions were true which [...]
  • Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    POETRY: Francis Meets A Leper by David Citino

    He heard the bell toll, erratic in a palsied hand, and smelled the goatish scent before he saw the figure moving in mist on the road to Assisi, a traveler gloved and shod, as was the law, to hide the sores, a man’s inhumanity, missing fingers and toes, and tried to unmask the face, slack muscles showing nothing but astonishment, lower lids keeping eyes open always to our providential decay, flesh soft and thick as rotten wood. Francis saw in bleary eyes, near to him as his mother’s [...]
  • A Wonder Of Origins by Daniel Berrigan

    POETRY: A Wonder Of Origins by Daniel Berrigan

    flower points to a bird, bird cries like a closed eye I see your dreams. Things like my heart I never see, but see hearts bird-shaped, flower-shaped, the radiant weightless shadow my heart casts—upward, to ground; a rose, a wintering bird. They meet, they summer plummet and signet, in Hero’s [...]
  • The Misery Cord by Les Murray

    POETRY: The Misery Cord by Les Murray

    In Memory of F. S. Murray  Misericord. The Misery Cord. It was lettered on a wall. I know that cord, how it’s tough to break however hard you haul. My cousin sharefarmed, and so got half: half dignity, half hope, half income, for his full work. To get a place of his own took his whole lifetime. Some pluck the misery chord from habit or for luck, however they feel, some to deceive, and some for the tune— but sometimes it’s real. Milking bails, flannel shirts, fried breakfasts, these were [...]
  • October by David Brendan Hopes

    POETRY: October by David Brendan Hopes

    It’s nuthatch on the box elder outside the window. He’s making his clown’s voice, nnink, nning, nnink, pecking to grubs, seeds, scraps. The first snow powdered down last night while he slept, and as birds have dreams there’s snow in his song now. Nighthawk heard it. He is gone. Warbler heard it. She is gone. Thrasher went. Finch went. You could hear them at night, little bells so far off you thought they were the stars ringing. I sat on an empty hill and said goodbye. [...]
  • Whole Wheat, Decaf Black, A Morbid Curiosity by David Citino

    POETRY: Whole Wheat, Decaf Black, A Morbid Curiosity by David Citino

    We study the paper, fingers darkening with the stinking ink of the daily news, as Dad bangs Mommy’s head against the bedroom wall, the thud like coming thunder, as baby’s shaken until the crying stops, as the sniper’s scope X’s-out another enemy of the tribe, all for ethnic cleaning, as, at the mall, boys dressed in street colors change forever the face of other boys with semi-automatic rage, as women of the village bind the girl, legs spread wide, the oyster cut from [...]
  • Letter From Santa Cruz by Maura Eichner

    POETRY: Letter From Santa Cruz by Maura Eichner

    I do not know the date. Calendars have no meaning here. One hundred miles north (or maybe more) from Santa Cruz our families live or try to live (and fail) farming rice. Five years ago only monkeys talked and swung in jungle trees. There is a road, but not when there is rain. It had been raining long when Marta died. Months ago, a doctor passing through told Marta that she ought to get to Santa Cruz. Some time, some time, Marta said, she would. She was busy at the well when the growth was big [...]
  • Litany by David Craig

    POETRY: Litany by David Craig

    Mother of Sorrow, Mother of stars and night fires, arroyos, tossed tequila bottles, the dead drunk. Mother of the streets, of the violent, weekend golfers, cut off, and a windshield smashed with bare fists; the knife, the absurdity, the day in court. Mother of amphetamines, the aging speed freak, who looks to kick around an oval track in a beat up stock car. Mother of the subways, the swaying lost. Mother of day laborers, children, early mornings, in the fields. Mother of Guatemala, of empty [...]
  • Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Ascension by Kathleen Norris

    Why do you stand looking up at the skies? (Acts 1:11) It wasn’t just wind, chasing thin gunmetal clouds across the loud sky; it wasn’t the feeling that one might ascend on that excited air, rising like a trumpet note. And it wasn’t just my sister’s water breaking, her crying out, the downward draw of blood and bone…. It was all of that, the mud and new grass pushing up through melting snow, the lilac in bud by my front door, bent low by last week’s ice storm. Now the new mother, [...]
  • Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: Our Christmas Tree by Wendell Berry

    Our Christmas tree is not electrified, is not covered with little lights calling attention to themselves (we have had enough of little lights calling attention to themselves). Our tree is a cedar cut here, one of the fragrances of our place, hung with painted cones and paper stars folded long ago to praise our tree, Christ come into the [...]
  • POETRY: Immersion by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Immersion by Denise Levertov

    There is anger abroad in the world, a numb thunder, because of God’s silence. But how naïve, to keep wanting words we could speak ourselves, English, Urdu, Tagalog, the French of Tours, the French of Haiti… Yes, that was one way omnipotence chose to address us—Hebrew, Aramaic, or whatever the patriarchs chose in their turn to call what they heard. Moses demanded the word, spoken and written. But perfect freedom assured other ways of speech. God is surely patiently trying to immerse us in [...]
  • Excerpts From The Angel Handbook by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Excerpts From The Angel Handbook by Kathleen Norris

    Be careful how you unfold your wings— there are some in the world who are not content unless their teeth are full of feathers You may find employment with the Sanitation Department or at any laundry When you ride subways wear ornate silver shoes and always stand near the door When you cross at intersections look both ways, then up It will often be expedient to altogether remove your wings from your back, where people will first think to look for them, and carry them around inside you— at [...]
  • Canaan by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Canaan by Geoffrey Hill

    I They march at God’s pleasure through Flanders with machine-pistols, chorales, cannon of obese bronze, with groaning pushcarts, to topple Baal. At crossroads they hoist corpses and soiled banners of the Lamb. The sun takes assize. Aloof the blades of oblation rise, fall, as though they were not obstructed by blades of bone. II Fourier’s children their steeds, kazoos, the splashed fetlocks— deliquescent manna that most resembles a sudden urban sleet— shedding innocent blood [...]
  • The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: The Bibliographers by Geoffrey Hill

    Lucifer blazing in superb effigies Among the world’s ambitious tragedies, Heaven-sent gift to the dark ages, Now, in the finest-possible light, We approach you; can estimate Your not unnatural height. Though the discrete progeny, Out of their swim, go deflated and dry, We know the feel of you, archaic beauty, Between the tombs, where the tombs still extrude, Overshadowing the sun-struck world: (The shadow-god envisaged in no [...]
  • Luke 14, a Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Luke 14, A Commentary by Kathleen Norris

    So he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noted how they chose the best places, saying to them: “When you are invited by anyone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in the best place, lest one more honorable than you be invited by him; and he who invited you and him come and say to you, ‘Give place to this man,’ and then you begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when he who invited you comes he may [...]
  • A Prayer To Eve by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: A Prayer To Eve by Kathleen Norris

    Mother of fictions and of irony, help us to laugh. Mother of science and the critical method, keep up humble. Muse of listeners, hope of interpreters, inspire us to act. Bless our metaphors, that we might eat them. Help us to know, Eve, the one thing we must do. Come with us, muse of exile, mother of the [...]
  • In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: In Memory Of Jane Fraser by Geoffrey Hill

    When snow like sheep lay in the fold And winds went begging at each door, And the far hills were blue with cold, And a cold shroud lay on the moor, She kept the siege. And every day We watched her brooking over death Like a strong bird above its prey. The room filled with the kettle’s breath. Damp curtains glued against the pane Sealed time away. Her body froze As if to freeze us all, and chain Creation to a stunned repose. She died before the world could stir. In March the ice unloosed [...]
  • Mrs. Adam by Kathleen Norris

    POETRY: Mrs. Adam by Kathleen Norris

    I have lately come to the conclusion that I am Eve, alias Mrs. Adam. You know, there is no account of her death in the Bible, and why am I not Eve? (Emily Dickinson in a letter, 12 January, 1846) Wake up, you’ll need your wits about you. This is not a dream, but a woman who loves you, speaking. She was there when you cried out; she brushed the terror away. She knew when it was time to sin. You were wise to let her handle it, and leave that place. We couldn’t speak at first for the bitter [...]
  • Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

    POETRY: Genesis by Geoffrey Hill

    I Against the burly air I strode Crying the miracles of God. And first I brought the sea to bear Upon the dead weight of the land; And the waves flourished at my prayer, The rivers spawned their sand. And where the streams were salt and full The tough pig-headed salmon strove, Ramming the ebb, in the tide’s pull, To reach the steady hills above. II The second day I stood and saw The osprey plunge with triggered claw, Feathering blood along the shore, To lay the living sinew bare. And the [...]
  • The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: The End Of The World by Scott Cairns

    The end of the world occurs with the first thaw. Waking from his first restful night in many months—a night without shivering, without cramp- ing muscles—the last man lifts his head from the straw, hears snow-melt trickling, sees morning light through the window’s ice, smells the scent of earth, lies back, and dies because he cannot bear to go through it all again. But that is a very limited view of the event. The end was more than the final exhaustion of the last man. Actually, some [...]
  • What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: What The Figtree Said by Denise Levertov

    Literal minds! Embarrassed humans! His friends were blurting for Him in secret: wouldn’t admit they were shocked. They thought Him petulant to curse me!—yet how could the Lord be unfair?—so they looked away, then and now. But I, I knew that helplessly barren though I was, my day had come. I served Christ the Poet, who spoke in images: I was at hand, a metaphor for their failure to bring forth what is within them (as figs were not within me). They who had walked in His sunlight [...]
  • On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: On Slow Learning by Scott Cairns

    If you’ve ever owned a tortoise, you know how terribly difficult paper training can be for some pets. Even if you get so far as to instill in your tortoise the value of achieving the paper, there remains one obstacle— your tortoise’s intrinsic sloth. Even a well-intentioned tortoise may find himself in his journeys to be painfully far from the mark. Failing, your tortoise may shy away for weeks within his shell, utterly ashamed, or, looking up with tiny, wet eyes, might offer an [...]
  • The Beginning Of Wisdom by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Beginning Of Wisdom by Denise Levertov

    The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: and the knowledge of the holy is understanding. (Proverbs 9:10) You have brought me so far. • I know so much. Names, verbs, images. My mind overflows, a drawer that can’t close • Unscathed among the tortured. Ignorant parchment uninscribed, light strokes only, where a scribe tried out a pen. • I am so small, a speck of dust moving across the huge world. The world a speck of dust in the universe. • Are you holding the universe? You [...]
  • On Being by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Of Being by Denise Levertov

    I know this happiness is provisional: the looming presences— great suffering, great fear— withdraw only into peripheral vision: but ineluctable this shimmering of wind in the blue leaves: this flood of stillness widening the lake of sky: this need to dance, this need to kneel: this [...]
  • Another Song by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Another Song by Scott Cairns

    Most mornings I wake up slowly. That’s just the way I am. I wake up slow as I can, listening first to one thing, then another. The milk bottles chiming just outside the door, then the milktruck idling in the street. If I’m lucky, the girl through the wall will be singing and I’ll hear her next, singing while she dresses. Maybe she’s brushing her hair, or tying the ribbon for her stocking —that would be nice. And out in the hall, some man will probably kiss Miss Weitz [...]
  • Our Lost Angels by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Our Lost Angels by Scott Cairns

    Ages ago, clouds brought them near and rain brought them to our lips; they swam in every vase, every cupped palm. We took them into ourselves and were refreshed. For those luckier generations, angels were the sweet, quickening substance in all light, all water, every morsel of food. Until the day the sun changed some, as it had, took them skyward, but thereafter the clouds failed to restore them. In time, streams gave up every spirit, and the sea, unreplenished, finally became the void we had [...]
  • Salvator Mundi: Via Crucis by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Salvator Mundi: Via Crucis by Denise Levertov

    Maybe he looked indeed much as Rembrandt envisioned Him in those small heads that seem in fact portraits of more than a model. A dark, still young, very intelligent face, a soul-mirror gaze of deep understanding, unjudging. That face, in extremis, would have clenched its teeth in a grimace not shown in even the great crucifixions. The burden of humanness (I begin to see) exacted from Him that He taste also the humiliation of dread, cold sweat of wanting to let the whole thing go, like any [...]
  • My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: My Amusing Despair by Scott Cairns

    I confess that I am not a modern man. As a modern man I am a little flawed. Raimundo is much too happy. Many times, more times than I would care to admit to you, I have suffered from this unforgivable lack, this absence. All around me, poets tearing at their bright blouses, tearing at their own bare flesh. All night long—their tortured singing. And still I have suffered an acute lack of despair. Why is that? Is Raimundo stupid? Am I unfeeling? Doesn’t the bleak weight of the north ever [...]
  • Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell by Denise Levertov

    Down through the tomb’s inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: the merciful dead, the prophets, the innocents just His own age and those unnumbered others waiting here unaware, in an endless void He is ending now, stooping to tug at their hands, to pull them from their sarcophagi, dazzled, almost unwilling. Didmas, neighbor in death, Golgotha dust still streaked on the dried sweat of his body no one had washed and anointed, is here, for [...]
  • The Great Black Heron by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: The Great Black Heron by Denise Levertov

    Since I stroll in the woods more often than on this frequented path, it’s usually trees I observe; but among fellow humans what I like best is to see an old woman fishing alone at the end of a jetty, hours on end, plainly content. The Russians mushroom-hunting after a rain trail after themselves a world of red sarafans, nightingales, samovars, stoves to sleep on (though without doubt those are not what they can remember). Vietnamese families fishing or simply sitting as close as they can [...]
  • The Theology Of Doubt by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: The Theology Of Doubt by Scott Cairns

    I have come to believe this fickleness of belief is unavoidable. As, for these back lot trees, the annual loss of leaves and fruit is unavoidable. I remember hearing that soft-soap about faith being given only to the faithful—mean trick, if you believe it. This afternoon, during my walk, which I have come to believe is good for me, I noticed one of those ridiculous leaves hanging midway up an otherwise naked oak. The wind did what it could to bring it down, but the slow learner continued [...]
  • Adventures In New Testament Greek—Nous by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Adventures In New Testament Greek—Nous by Scott Cairns

    You could almost think the word synonymous with mind, given our so far narrow history, and the excessive esteem in which we have been led to hold what is, in this case, our rightly designated nervous systems. Little wonder then that some presume the mind itself both part and parcel of the person, the very seat of soul and, lately, crucible for a host of chemical incentives—combinations of which can pretty much answer for most of our habits and for our affections. When even the handy lexicon [...]
  • Re-Rooting by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Re-Rooting by Denise Levertov

    We were trying to put the roots back, wild and erratic straying root-limbs, trying to fit them into the hole that was cleancut in clay, deep but not wide enough; or wide but too square—trying to get the roots back into earth before they dried out and died. Ineptly we pulled and pushed striving to encompass so many rivers of wood and fiber in one confinement without snapping the arteries of sap, the force of life springing in them that made them spring away from our hands— we knew our own [...]
  • A Recuperation Of Sin by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: A Recuperation Of Sin by Scott Cairns

    I suppose we might do away with words like sin. They are at least archaic, not to mention rude, and late generations have been pretty well-schooled against the presumption of holding anything to be absolutely so, universally applicable, especially anything like sin which is, to put it more neatly, unpleasant, not the sort of thing one brings up. Besides, so much of what ignorance may have once attributed to sin has been more justly shown to be the end result of bad information, genetic flaw, [...]
  • Wanting The Moon by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: Wanting The Moon by Denise Levertov

    Not the moon. A flower on the other side of the water. The water sweeps past in flood, dragging a whole tree by the hair, a barn, a bridge. The flower sings on the far bank. Not a flower, a bird calling hidden among the darkest trees, music over the water, making a silence out of the brown folds of the river’s cloak. The moon. No, a young man walking under the trees. There are lanterns among the leaves. Tender, wise, merry, his face is awake with its own light, I see it across the water [...]
  • This Day by Denise Levertov

    POETRY: This Day by Denise Levertov

    i Dry wafer, sour wine. This day I see God’s in the dust, not sifted out from confusion. ii Perhaps, I thought, passing the duckpond, perhaps—seeing the brilliantly somber water deranged by lost feathers and bits of drowning bread—perhaps these imperfections (the ducklings practised their diving, stylized feet vigorously cycling among débris) are part of perfection, a pristine nuance? our eyes our lives, too close to the canvas, enmeshed within the turning dance, to see it? iii In so [...]
  • Reason by Scott Cairns

    POETRY: Reason by Scott Cairns

    It could be a late night phone call, or a note you find troubling the bed. It could be a telegram you can’t help going back to, but something has died, or has left you, and you can’t remember which. You do know that you sit alone, that you have ten strange fingers, and that something whistles in your lungs. Odd, the way a face hangs so heavily, and can seem to pull you over, can seem to pull you down. If your hand were to change, become something altogether different, say, a grip of [...]
  • A Warning To My Readers by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: A Warning To My Readers by Wendell Berry

    Do not think me gentle because I speak in praise of gentleness, or elegant because I honor the grace that keeps this world. I am a man crude as any, gross of speech, intolerant, stubborn, angry, full of fits and furies. That I may have spoken well at times, is not natural. A wonder is what it [...]
  • The Mad Farmer, Flying the Flag of Rough Branch, Secedes from the Union by Wendell Berry

    POETRY: The Mad Farmer, Flying the Flag of Rough Branch, Secedes from the Union by Wendell Berry

    From the union of power and money From the union of power and secrecy, From the union of government and science, From the union of government and art, From the union of science and money, From the union of genius and war, From the union of outer space and inner vacuity, The Mad Farmer walks quietly away. There is only one of him, but he goes. He returns to the small country he calls home, His own nation small enough to walk across. He goes shadowy into the local woods, And brightly into the [...]

Seamus Heaney

  • The Birch Grove by Seamus Heaney
    At the back of a garden, in earshot of river water, In a corner walled off like the baths or bake-house Of an unroofed abbey or broken-floored Roman villa, They have planted their birch grove. Planted it recently only, But already each morning it puts forth in the sun Like their own long grown-up selves, the white of the bark As suffused and cool as the white of the satin nightdress She bends and straightens up in, pouring tea, Sitting across from where he dandles a sandal On his big [...]

Humility

  • Humility And Happiness by Andrew Murray
    From Humility Should you ask me: What is the first thing in religion?  I should reply: the first, second, and third thing therein is humility. (Augustine) Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses.  For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10) It seems that Paul’s thorn in the flesh was sent to humble him so that he might not exalt himself as a result [...]

Attentiveness

  • Stepping Into Attentiveness by Leighton Ford
    From The Attentive Life Is attentiveness a gift to use? an art to practice? a work to perform?  It seems to include some of all three.  But it is certainly a call of God, and it is the call and practice that I myself hope to awaken to, more and more, in the writing of this book. Agnes Cunningham, a writer and teacher, discovered as a thirteen-year-old in her first year of high school that she [...]

The Peaceable Kingdom

  • Fragile Foundations by Stanley Hauerwas
    From The Peaceable Kingdom Equally pervasive as the stress on freedom in modern ethical theory has been the concern to find a foundation for ethics.  Indeed the attempt to provide a foundation for ethics is interrelated with the attempt to establish freedom as a prerequisite characteristic of human agents.  As MacIntyre suggests, modern philosophers, both analytic and existentialist, have taken [...]

Prayers for special graces

  • Enroll Us In Your School Of Love by Helder Camara
    Teach us to love and be loved in perfect transparency. Let our love be diaphanous, lest we project the more in our eye into the eye of another, and make it a beam besides! Let our love be transparent lest we ever play host to a love that is false. Love that springs from aught but you, love that lives in aught but you, love that returns not to you, is not love. Teach us to love each and every [...]

A Quote From Thomas Merton

Since money is what it is, I do not deny that you may be worthy of all praise if you light your cigarettes with it. That would show you had a deep, pure sense of the ontological value of the dollar. Nevertheless, if that is all you can think of doing with money, you will not long enjoy the advantages that it can still obtain.

Psalm 109

109:  Hold not thy peace, O God of my praise;

 

2 For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me: they have spoken against me with a lying tongue.

 

3 They compassed me about also with words of hatred; and fought against me without a cause.

 

4 For my love they are my adversaries: but I give myself unto prayer.

 

5 And they have rewarded me evil for good, and hatred for my love.

 

6 Set thou a wicked man over him: and let Satan stand at his right hand.

 

7 When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let his prayer become sin.

 

8 Let his days be few; and let another take his office.

 

9 Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow.

 

10 Let his children be continually vagabonds, and beg: let them seek their bread also out of their desolate places.

 

11 Let the extortioner catch all that he hath; and let the strangers spoil his labor.

 

12 Let there be none to extend mercy unto him: neither let there be any to favor his fatherless children.

 

13 Let his posterity be cut off; and in the generation following let their name be blotted out.

 

14 Let the iniquity of his fathers be remembered with the Lord; and let not the sin of his mother be blotted out.

 

15 Let them be before the Lord continually, that he may cut off the memory of them from the Earth.

 

16 Because that he remembered not to shew mercy, but persecuted the poor and needy man, that he might even slay the broken in heart.

 

17 As he loved cursing, so let it come unto him: as he delighted not in blessing, so let it be far from him.

 

18 As he clothed himself with cursing like as with his garment, so let it come into his bowels like water, and like oil into his bones.

 

19 Let it be unto him as the garment which covereth him, and for a girdle wherewith he is girded continually.

 

20 Let this be the reward of mine adversaries from the Lord, and of them that speak evil against my soul.

 

21 But do thou for me, O God the Lord, for thy name’s sake: because thy mercy is good, deliver thou me.

 

22 For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me.

 

23 I am gone like the shadow when it declineth: I am tossed up and down as the locust.

 

24 My knees are weak through fasting; and my flesh faileth of fatness.

 

25 I became also a reproach unto them: when they looked upon me they shaked their heads.

 

26 Help me, O Lord my God: O save me according to thy mercy:

 

27 That they may know that this is thy hand; that thou, Lord, hast done it.

 

28 Let them curse, but bless thou: when they arise, let them be ashamed; but let thy servant rejoice.

 

29 Let mine adversaries be clothed with shame, and let them cover themselves with their own confusion, as with a mantle.

 

30 I will greatly praise the Lord with my mouth; yea, I will praise him among the multitude.

 

31 For he shall stand at the right hand of the poor, to save him from those that condemn his soul.