The message of Christian Orthodoxy isn’t that I’m right and someone else is wrong. It’s that I am wrong yet God is filled with grace. I am wrong, and yet God has made a way for me to be forgiven and accepted and loved for eternity. I am wrong, and yet God gave his Son, Jesus, to die in my place and receive my punishment. I am wrong, but through faith in Jesus, I can be made right before a holy God.
And I say also this. I do not think the forest would be so bright, nor the water so warm, nor love so sweet, if there were no danger in the lakes.
A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking as if pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing… What you call remembering is the last part of the pleasure… When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But we still know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then—that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it…
The poem is a good example. For the most splendid line becomes fully splendid only by means of all the lines after it; if you went back to it you would find it less splendid than you thought. You would kill it.
Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore?
“Come,” says Christ, “and I will give you rest.” I will not show you rest, nor barely tell you of rest, but ‘I will give you rest.’ I am faithfulness itself, and cannot lie, ‘I will give you rest.’ I that have the greatest power to give it, the greatest will to give it, the greatest right to give it, ‘Come, heavy laden sinners, and I will give you rest.’ Rest is the most desirable good, the most suitable good, and to you the greatest good. ‘Come,’ says Christ, that is, ‘believe in me, and I will give you rest’; I will give you peace with God, and peace with conscience: I will turn your storm into an everlasting calm; I will give you such rest, which the world can neither give to you nor take from you.
We have all things in Christ. Christ is all things to a Christian. If we are sick, Jesus is a physician. If we thirst, Jesus is a fountain. If our sins trouble us, Jesus is our righteousness. If we stand in need of help, Jesus is mighty to save. If we fear death, Jesus is life. If we are in darkness, Jesus is light. If we are weak, Jesus is strength. If we are in poverty, Jesus is plenty. If we desire heaven, Jesus is the way. The soul cannot say, ‘this I would have, and that I would have.’ But having Jesus, he has all he needs—eminently, perfectly, eternally.
Samuel rode lightly on top of a book and he balanced happily among ideas the way a man rides white rapids in a canoe. But Tom got into a book, crawled and grovelled between the covers, tunnelled like a mole among the thoughts, and came up with the book all over his face and hands.
Steinbeck, East of Eden (via circumnavigating)
East of Eden is a good, good book.
We thank you, our Father, for the life and knowledge which you have revealed through Jesus, your child. To you be glory forever.
As this piece [of bread] was scattered over the hills and then was brought together and made one, so may your Church be brought together from the ends of the earth into your Kingdom.
For yours is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ forever.
And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
He who is our destination is also our forerunner, our escort, and our path