Especially meaningful or striking Bible passages
Seen at Eve's. I don't know if I can come up with ten, but I'll try.
1. The Magnificat
2. Psalm 51 ("Asperges me hyssopo et mundabor, lavabis me et super nivem dealbabor.")
3. Psalm 8 (in the Coverdale translation, "O Lord our Governor ...")
4. Psalm 148
5. Wisdom 7:7 - 8:1
6. Sirach (Ecclesiasticus) 24:18 [Vulgate 24:24, "Ego sum mater pulchrae dilectionis ..."]
7. Sirach 43:17ff. "He sprinkles the snow like fluttering birds" ...
8. Luke 15, the Prodigal Son
9. Isaiah 42:3, "A bruised reed he shall not break, a smoldering wick he shall not quench."
10. The Song of Songs, esp. 2:14.
I will incline mine ear to the parable, and shew my dark speech upon the harp
from Psalm 49
Monday, November 12, 2007
C. S. Lewis
If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
-- from "The Weight of Glory" in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses: Revised and Expanded Edition (Macmillan Paperbacks, 1980), pp. 3-4.
If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
-- from "The Weight of Glory" in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses: Revised and Expanded Edition (Macmillan Paperbacks, 1980), pp. 3-4.
Labels:
C. S. Lewis
Friday, November 09, 2007
No, this doesn't quite fit
Via Dyspeptic Mutterings.
| Your Inner European is Dutch! |
![]() Open minded and tolerant. You're up for just about anything. |
Via Dyspeptic Mutterings.
Labels:
quizzes
Monday, November 05, 2007
Saturday, November 03, 2007
C. S. Lewis
My brother heard a woman on a 'bus say, as the 'bus passed a church with a Crib outside it, "Oh, Lor'! They bring religion into everything. Look -- they're dragging it even into Christmas now!"
-- from Letters to an American Lady, letter dated Dec 29/58
My brother heard a woman on a 'bus say, as the 'bus passed a church with a Crib outside it, "Oh, Lor'! They bring religion into everything. Look -- they're dragging it even into Christmas now!"
-- from Letters to an American Lady, letter dated Dec 29/58
Labels:
C. S. Lewis
Friday, November 02, 2007
C. S. Lewis
on St. Mary Magdalene
The allegorical sense of her great action dawned on me the other day. The precious alabaster box which one must break over the Holy Feet is one's heart. Easier said than done. And the contents become perfume only when it is broken. While they are safe inside they are more like sewage. All very alarming.
-- from Letters to an American Lady, letter dated Nov 1st 54
on St. Mary Magdalene
The allegorical sense of her great action dawned on me the other day. The precious alabaster box which one must break over the Holy Feet is one's heart. Easier said than done. And the contents become perfume only when it is broken. While they are safe inside they are more like sewage. All very alarming.
-- from Letters to an American Lady, letter dated Nov 1st 54
Labels:
C. S. Lewis
C. S. Lewis
The act which engenders a child ought to be, and usually is attended by pleasure. But it is not the pleasure that produces the child. Where there is pleasure there may be sterility: where there is no pleasure the act may be fertile. And in the spiritual marriage of God and the soul it is the same. It is the actual presence, not the sensation of the presence, of the Holy Ghost that begets Christ in us.
-- from Letters to an American Lady, letter dated 20/2/55
The act which engenders a child ought to be, and usually is attended by pleasure. But it is not the pleasure that produces the child. Where there is pleasure there may be sterility: where there is no pleasure the act may be fertile. And in the spiritual marriage of God and the soul it is the same. It is the actual presence, not the sensation of the presence, of the Holy Ghost that begets Christ in us.
-- from Letters to an American Lady, letter dated 20/2/55
Labels:
C. S. Lewis
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Catholic quiz
I missed the question on sanctifying grace ...
You are 93% educated in Catholic truths!
I missed the question on sanctifying grace ...
Labels:
Catholicism,
quizzes
Monday, October 29, 2007
Champions!
The Boston Red Sox have won the 2007 World Series in four games straight ...
Congratulations!
Sox are kings of the diamond by Gordon Edes of the Boston Globe.
The Boston Red Sox have won the 2007 World Series in four games straight ...
Congratulations!
Sox are kings of the diamond by Gordon Edes of the Boston Globe.
Labels:
Boston Red Sox
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Three games to nil
All right, it got a little scary tonight in the 7th inning, but a win is a win is a win.
Daisuke's 2 RBI were a nice touch. And the (other) rookies came through when they had to.
The box score.
One more ...
Go Sox!
All right, it got a little scary tonight in the 7th inning, but a win is a win is a win.
Daisuke's 2 RBI were a nice touch. And the (other) rookies came through when they had to.
The box score.
One more ...
Go Sox!
Labels:
Boston Red Sox
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
September 26, 1983
If it weren't for the levelheadedness of this man, we all would have been nuked to death twenty-four years ago.
Via Dyspeptic Mutterings.
If it weren't for the levelheadedness of this man, we all would have been nuked to death twenty-four years ago.
Via Dyspeptic Mutterings.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Especially when the October wind
by Dylan Thomas (1914-53)
Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.
Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark
On the horizon walking like the trees
The wordy shapes of women, and the rows
Of the star-gestured children in the park.
Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches,
Some of the oaken voices, from the roots
Of many a thorny shire tell you notes,
Some let me make you of the water's speeches.
Behind a pot of ferns the wagging clock
Tells me the hour's word, the neural meaning
Flies on the shafted disk, declaims the morning
And tells the windy weather in the cock.
Some let me make you of the meadow's signs;
The signal grass that tells me all I know
Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye.
Some let me tell you of the raven's sins.
Especially when the October wind
(Some let me make you of autumnal spells,
The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales)
With fists of turnips punishes the land,
Some let me make of you the heartless words.
The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry
Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury.
By the sea's side hear the dark-vowelled birds.
by Dylan Thomas (1914-53)
Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea's side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.
Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark
On the horizon walking like the trees
The wordy shapes of women, and the rows
Of the star-gestured children in the park.
Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches,
Some of the oaken voices, from the roots
Of many a thorny shire tell you notes,
Some let me make you of the water's speeches.
Behind a pot of ferns the wagging clock
Tells me the hour's word, the neural meaning
Flies on the shafted disk, declaims the morning
And tells the windy weather in the cock.
Some let me make you of the meadow's signs;
The signal grass that tells me all I know
Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye.
Some let me tell you of the raven's sins.
Especially when the October wind
(Some let me make you of autumnal spells,
The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales)
With fists of turnips punishes the land,
Some let me make of you the heartless words.
The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry
Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury.
By the sea's side hear the dark-vowelled birds.
fragments
the monastery of the setting sun
*
dream of confession to a pagan priest
*
impediments to liberty abound
*
a spirit that's unused to sacrifice
*
estranged from silence this distracted soul
*
enslavement to the taste of fleeting bliss
*
still slumbering lulled by magic not benign
*
the non-ascetic worshiper of self
*
dark icons of a false humility
*
he runs as one who wants to stand in place
*
how long will God protect the reckless man
who walks through dangerous places drunkenly
*
a plague of pleasures and a scourge of pains
*
peremptory thanksgiving for good health
*
asking a wrathless heaven to bless the dead
the monastery of the setting sun
*
dream of confession to a pagan priest
*
impediments to liberty abound
*
a spirit that's unused to sacrifice
*
estranged from silence this distracted soul
*
enslavement to the taste of fleeting bliss
*
still slumbering lulled by magic not benign
*
the non-ascetic worshiper of self
*
dark icons of a false humility
*
he runs as one who wants to stand in place
*
how long will God protect the reckless man
who walks through dangerous places drunkenly
*
a plague of pleasures and a scourge of pains
*
peremptory thanksgiving for good health
*
asking a wrathless heaven to bless the dead
Sunday, October 21, 2007
All knotted up
at three games apiece
The oh-so-reliable Daisuke Matsuzaka starts Game 7.
Cautiously optimistic.
Go Sox!
at three games apiece
The oh-so-reliable Daisuke Matsuzaka starts Game 7.
Cautiously optimistic.
Go Sox!
Labels:
Boston Red Sox
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Sorry to tell you this, Barack ...
... but it's true.
Not all. But let that go.
... but it's true.
It is well documented that black Americans — particularly black males — have shorter life expectancies than whites. But blacks do live to become senior citizens.
Not all. But let that go.
A black person born in 2004 had an average life expectancy of 73.1 years, about five years less than for whites, according to the National Center for Health Statistics.
Imagine that!
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: Boston You definitely have a Boston accent, even if you think you don't. Of course, that doesn't mean you are from the Boston area, you may also be from New Hampshire or Maine. | |
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Labels:
quizzes
Yeah, right
| You Are Incredibly Logical |
![]() Move over Spock - you're the new master of logic You think rationally, clearly, and quickly. A seasoned problem solver, your mind is like a computer! |
Labels:
quizzes
Friday, October 19, 2007
Book quiz
Via Andrew Sullivan:
Via Andrew Sullivan:
| What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Dedicated Reader You are always trying to find the time to get back to your book. You are convinced that the world would be a much better place if only everyone read more. | |
| Literate Good Citizen | |
| Book Snob | |
| Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm | |
| Fad Reader | |
| Non-Reader | |
| What Kind of Reader Are You? Create Your Own Quiz | |
Labels:
quizzes
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Deborah Kerr has died at age 86
I enjoyed her work in this undernoticed film from the early sixties. Requiescat.
I enjoyed her work in this undernoticed film from the early sixties. Requiescat.
Labels:
obituary
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Magnificat anima mea Dominum
A Marian villanelle, the first version of which was written twelve years ago today.
A Marian villanelle, the first version of which was written twelve years ago today.
from De Profundis
by Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
A man's very highest moment is, I have no doubt at all, when he kneels in the dust, and beats his breast, and tells all the sins of his life.
Today is the 153rd anniversary of Oscar Wilde's birth.
by Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
A man's very highest moment is, I have no doubt at all, when he kneels in the dust, and beats his breast, and tells all the sins of his life.
Today is the 153rd anniversary of Oscar Wilde's birth.
Labels:
birthday,
Oscar Wilde,
quotations
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