Nothing hidden
From my lips in their defilement,
From my heart in its beguilement,
From my tongue which speaks not fair,
From my soul stained everywhere,
O my Jesus, take my prayer!
From my lips in their defilement,
From my heart in its beguilement,
From my tongue which speaks not fair,
From my soul stained everywhere,
O my Jesus, take my prayer!
Sire, I had often heard and deeply considered the many and marvelous things which various persons—and those good judges in the matter, as having been themselves on the spot—report concerning a remarkable disposition which is observed in the island of Japan for the reception of our holy religion.
In a former journal, I mentioned that Mr. Liggins and myself had determined on making an attempt to establish a new mission station at Tá-Tsong. We made the effort, but failed, as no one was disposed to incur the wrath from the Mandarin for renting us a house.
Thou hast given us a freedom from all other affairs
that we may without distraction attend Thy service.
That holy gospel which came down from heaven,
with things the angels desire to look into,
Someone may wonder: At the Lord’s beckoning, what or how much did these two fishermen, who scarcely had anything, leave behind? On this, my beloved, we should attend to one’s intention rather than one’s wealth.
“Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. . . .” The year begins with a bleak, eerie prayer, uttered in the darkness. The darkness terrifies us. It is no ordinary darkness.
Where, would you say, does God live? In heaven? On earth? Within us? All around us? When you pray, where do you imagine God?
Jesus shall reign wherever the sun
Does its successive journeys run;
His kingdom spread from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
According to an old Saturday Evening Post story, the Pilgrims had a custom of putting five grains of corn on each empty plate before a dinner of “thanksgiving” was served. Then those gathered around the table would each take turns picking up their grains and telling their family and friends about something for which they were thankful.
Huntington, an Anglo-Catholic, was as theologically conservative as he was socially liberal. He taught that the sacramental life was the motivating force behind the reconciliation of all races and classes. He also embraced monasticism in large part because of his commitment to the world beyond the monastery walls.