Daily Reading for October 1 • Remigius, Bishop of Rheims, c. 530

Remigius came of a family distinguished for its sanctity. Not merely his mother and his brother, but his nurse and his foster-brother, are numbered among the saints. Holy influences surrounded him from his infancy, and the boy grew up grave and pure-minded and earnest. When he was but two and twenty the diocese became vacant. Remigius was amongst those who were assembled in the church at Rheims to elect a new bishop; suddenly a ray of light from an upper window fell upon the earnest face of the young layman. His extraordinary height and his majestic bearing must have made him conspicuous at all times, and in the sudden light that now illumined him, the bystanders read a manifest sign of God’s favour towards him, and with one voice they claimed him for their future bishop. In spite of his own reluctance he was duly consecrated, and it is probable that there are few examples in ecclesiastical history of either so youthful a bishop or of so long an episcopate, for he ruled over his diocese of Rheims for more than seventy years.

The young bishop was of a scholarly disposition and endowed with a great gift of eloquence. This we learn not only from the sober notices of the historian, Gregory of Tours, but from a highly patronizing letter from Sidonius Apollinaris, the courtly and accomplished Bishop of Clermont, and ex-prefect of Rome. Some acquaintance of his had been to Rheims, and there had procured—so Sidonius writes to Remigius—“whether by purchase or present, with or without your consent, from your secretary or librarian, a voluminous manuscript of your sermons.” In no measured terms he proceeds to praise the style, weighing each point with the skill of a practised rhetorician. Of the matter of the sermons he says nothing, but he declares that all who had read them, “myself included, have taken pains to learn the greater part of them by heart, and to copy them out”; and he ends with a gay threat as to the consequences if Remigius still insists on withholding his writings from circulation: “We know how to set men on the watch, and suborn them to rob your portfolio; then finding yourself plundered, you will perhaps be sensible of the robbery, if you will not now pay attention to our prayers, and the pleasure of being of use to others!”

Remigius’s sermons have long ago been forgotten, but his name can never lose its place in church history, for it is bound up with the story of that great onward movement in the spread of Christianity—the baptism of Clovis and the general conversion of the Franks.

From Studies in Church Dedications, or, England’s Patron Saints by Frances Arnold-Forster, volume 1 (London: Skeffington & Son, 1899).

Daily Reading for October 2 • George Kennedy Allen Bell, Bishop of Chichester, and Ecumenist, 1958, and John Raleigh Mott, Evangelist and Ecumenical Pioneer, 1955 (transferred)

Never have there been such extensive and such convincing evidences of the poverty and inadequacy of human means and agencies for furthering the welfare of humanity; never has there been such a widespread sense of the need of superhuman help; never have there been such challenges to Christians to undertake deeds requiring Divine cooperation; never has there been such a manifest desire to discover the secret of the hiding and of the releasing of God’s power. Interest in prayer is world-wide. This is shown in the prominence of this subject in addresses and sermons in all lands, as well as by the growing volume of books and pamphlet literature in different languages. The multiplication of Calls to Prayer and of Prayer Cycles, and the formation of Prayer Bands and of Leagues of Intercession, constitute similar testimony. Among Christians everywhere, and even among many who would not call themselves believing Christians, there is being manifested an earnest desire to understand what prayer is and to engage more fully in its exercise. . . .

Prayer is something the reality and power of which can be verified only by praying. An alarming weakness among Christians is that we are producing Christian activities faster than we are producing Christian experience and Christian faith; that the discipline of our souls and the deepening of our acquaintance with God are not proving sufficiently thorough to enable us to meet the unprecedented expansion of opportunity and responsibility of our generation. These studies and spiritual exercises in helping men and women to form that most transforming, most energizing, and most highly productive habit—the habit of Christlike prayer—will do much to overcome this danger.

From the Introduction by John Raleigh Mott to The Meaning of Prayer by Harry Emerson Fosdick (New York: Association Press, 1915).

Daily Reading for October 3 • The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Since the apostles understood that the source of all the gospel virtues was faith, the faith that the Lord so carefully required in the doing of miracles, that he so often praised in many, even non-Jews, that always receives what it asks for, and that they themselves had used in dispelling illness and driving out demons, . . . they said to the Lord, “Lord, since we have nothing good except from you, we ask that you increase our faith.”

But the Lord knew that his apostles were still thickheaded and imperfect, and were asking for an increase in faith just so that they would be better at working miracles. He did indeed affirm the strength and power of faith if it is also pure, but he declared that it had to be joined with the highest degree of humility, and was not to be brought out for empty show, but only when the salvation of one’s neighbor or the glory of God requires. He spoke in a comparison: “If you have faith like a mustard seed, which is tiny and humble, and does not put forth its power unless it is crushed or chewed, you will say to this sycamine tree, which had driven its roots far and wide and seems impossible for any power to tear up, ‘Be uprooted, and be transplanted into the sea,’ and it will obey you.” Now in the mustard seed the Lord meant himself, who, though he showed himself the humblest of all things, still had the secret power of his divine nature hidden within, which at length revealed itself after the seed was crushed on the cross and buried in death. The power of this seed worked in the disciples, and they were not supposed to claim any of it as their own possession, for they were not the originators of what they did but only the instruments. . . . Similarly in your case, do not appropriate for yourselves the glory of your good deeds; just do your work faithfully.

From the commentary on Luke 17 by Erasmus in Collected Works of Erasmus: Paraphrase on Luke 11-24, translated by Jane E. Phillips (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2003).

Daily Reading for October 4 • St. Francis of Assisi, Friar, 1226

We should never desire to be above others, but ought rather to be servants and subject “to every human creature for God’s sake.” And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon all those who do these things and who shall persevere to the end, and He shall make His abode and dwelling in them, and they shall be children of the heavenly Father whose works they do, and they are the spouses, brothers and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are spouses when by the Holy Ghost the faithful soul is united to Jesus Christ. We are His brothers when we do the will of His Father who is in heaven. We are His mothers when we bear Him in our heart and in our body through pure love and a clean conscience and we bring Him forth by holy work which ought to shine as an example to others.

O how glorious and holy and great to have a Father in heaven! O how holy, fair, and lovable to have a spouse in heaven! O how holy and how beloved, well pleasing and humble, peaceful and sweet and desirable above all to have such a brother who has laid down His life for His sheep, and who has prayed for us to the Father, saying: “Father, keep them in Thy Name whom Thou hast given Me. Father, all those whom Thou hast given Me in the world were Thine, and Thou hast given them to Me. And the words which Thou gavest Me I have given to them; and they have received them, and have known in very deed that I came forth from Thee, and they have believed that Thou didst send Me. I pray for them: not for the world: bless and sanctify them. And for them I sanctify Myself that they may be sanctified in one as We also are. And I will, Father, that where I am, they also may be with Me, that they may see My glory in My kingdom.”

And since He has suffered so many things for us and has done and will do so much good to us, let every creature which is in heaven and on earth and in the sea and in the abysses render praise to God and glory and honor and benediction; for He is our strength and power who alone is good, alone most high, alone almighty and admirable, glorious and alone holy, praiseworthy and blessed without end forever and ever. Amen.

From “The Letter to All the Faithful” by Francis of Assisi (1215) in The Writings of St. Francis of Assisi, translated by Paschal Robinson (1905); found at http://www.sacred-texts.com/chr/wosf/wosf12.htm

Daily Reading for October 5

Among Christian men, love maketh all things common; every man is other’s debtor, and every man is bound to minister to his neighbour, and to supply his neighbour’s lack of that wherewith God hath endowed him. . . . Alms is a Greek word, and signifieth mercy. One Christian is debtor to another at his need, of all that he is able to do for him, until his need be sufficed. Every Christian man ought to have Christ always before his eyes, as an ensample to counterfeit and follow, and to do to his neighbour as Christ hath done to him. . . .

Christ is all in all things. Every Christian man to another is Christ himself; and thy neighbour’s need hath as good right in thy goods as hath Christ himself, which is heir and Lord over all. And look, what thou owest to Christ, that thou owest to thy neighbour’s need: to thy neighbour owest thou thine heart, thyself, and all that thou hast and canst do. The love that springeth out of Christ excludeth no man, neither putteth difference between one and another. In Christ we are all of one degree, without respect of persons.

Notwithstanding, though a Christian man’s heart be open to all men, and receiveth all men, yet, because that his ability of goods extendeth not so far, this provision is made,—that every man shall care for his own household, as father and mother, and thine elders that have holpen thee, wife, children, and servants. If thou shouldest not care and provide for thine household, then were thou an infidel, seeing thou hast taken on thee so to do, and forasmuch as that is thy part committed to thee of the congregation.

When thou hast done thy duty to thine household, and yet hast further abundance of the blessing of God, that owest thou to the poor that cannot labour, or would labour and can get no work, and are destitute of friends; to the poor, I mean, which thou knowest, to them of thine own parish. For that provision ought to be had in the congregation, that every parish care for their poor.

If thy neighbours which thou knowest be served, and thou yet have superfluity, and hearest necessity to be among the brethren a thousand miles of, to them art thou debtor. Yea, to the very infidels we be debtors, if they need, as far forth as we maintain them not against Christ, or to blaspheme Christ. Thus is every man that needeth thy help, thy father, mother, sister and brother in Christ; even as every man that doth the will of the father, is father, mother, sister and brother unto Christ. . . .

If the whole world were thine, yet hath every brother his right in thy goods, and is heir with thee, as we are all heirs with Christ. Moreover the rich and they that have wisdom with them must see the poor set at work, that as many as are able may feed themselves with the labour of their own hands, according to the Scripture and commandment of God.

From “The Parable of the Wicked Mammon” by William Tyndale, in The Works of the English Reformers: William Tyndale and Roger Frith, edited by Thomas Russell, volume 1 (London: Ebenezer Palmer, 1831).

Daily Reading for October 6 • William Tyndale, 1536, and Miles Coverdale, 1568, Translators of the Bible

Doubtless, like as all nations in the diversity of speeches may know one God in the unity of faith, and be one in love; even so may divers translations understand one another, and that in the head articles and ground of our most blessed faith, though they use sundry words. Wherefore methink we have great occasion to give thanks unto God, that he hath opened unto his church the gift of interpretation and of printing, and that there are now at this time so many, which with such diligence and faithfulness interpret the scripture, to the honour of God and edifying of his people: whereas like as when many are shooting together, every one doth his best to be nighest the mark; and though they cannot all attain thereto, yet shooteth one nigher than another, and hitteth it better than another; yea, one can do it better than another. Who is now then so unreasonable, so despiteful, or envious, as to abhor him that doth all his diligence to hit the prick, and to shoot nighest it, though he miss and come not nighest the mark? Ought not such one rather to be commended, and to be helped forward, that he may exercise himself the more therein?

For the which cause, according as I was desired, I took the more upon me to set forth this special translation, not as a checker, not as a reprover, or despiser of other men’s translations, (for among many as yet I have found none without occasion of great thanksgiving unto God;) but lowly and faithfully have I followed mine interpreters, and that under correction; and though I have failed anywhere (as there is no man but he misseth in some tiling), love shall construe all to the best, without any perverse judgment. There is no man living that can see all things, neither hath God given any man to know everything. One seeth more clearly than another, one hath more understanding than another, one can utter a thing better than another; but no man ought to envy or despise another. He that can do better than another, should not set him at nought that understandeth less. Yea, he that hath the more understanding ought to remember, that the same gift is not his, but God’s, and that God hath given it him to teach and inform the ignorant. If thou hast knowledge therefore to judge where any fault is made, I doubt not but thou wilt help to amend it, if love be joined with thy knowledge. Howbeit, whereinsoever I can perceive by myself, or by the information of other, that I have failed (as it is no wonder), I shall now by the help of God overlook it better, and amend it.

Now will I exhort thee, whosoever thou be that readest scripture, if thou find ought therein that thou understandest not, or that appeareth to be repugnant, give no temerarious nor hasty judgment thereof; but ascribe it to thine own ignorance, not to the scripture: think that thou understandest it not, or that it hath some other meaning, or that it is haply overseen of the interpreters, or wrong printed. Again, it shall greatly help thee to understand scripture, if thou mark not only what is spoken or written, but of whom, and unto whom, with what words, at what time, where, to what intent, with what circumstance, considering what goeth before, and what followeth after. . . .When thou readest scripture, be wise and circumspect; and when thou comest to such strange manners of speaking and dark sentences, to such parables and similitudes, to such dreams or visions, as are hid from thy understanding, commit them unto God, or to the gift of his Holy Spirit in them that are better learned than thou.

From the Prologue to the translation of the Bible by Miles Coverdale (1535); found at http://www.archive.org/stream/writingstranslat00cove/writingstranslat00cove_djvu.txt

Daily Reading for October 7 • Henry Melchior Muhlenberg, Lutheran Pastor in North America, 1787

In attempting an estimate of Dr. Muhlenberg’s character, we must go a little into detail, and speak more fully of him in his private and public capacity, particularly as an earnest Christian and a faithful minister of the gospel. He was a man of clear, vigorous intellect, and of varied and extensive learning. He was distinguished for the versatility of his powers, and the range of his acquirements. His mind, naturally capacious, had been subjected to the most careful culture, the most rigid discipline; and in all his efforts he was regular, systematic, and industrious. His memory was retentive, his perceptions quick, his judgment acute, and his knowledge of character wonderful. As a linguist he occupied a very high rank. He was an accurate and a finished Hebrew and Greek scholar. The German, English, Dutch, French, Bohemian, and Swedish, it is said, he wrote with fluency. He could also preach in all the different languages then spoken on the continent. . . .

He had likewise devoted considerable attention to the natural sciences. He was very much interested in the study of chemistry, and had given some time to the subject of medicine, which he found useful to him during his pastoral labors in his visitations to the poor. He was a fine musician, and performed with much skill on the organ, the harp, guitar, and the violin. He, moreover, had a pleasant voice, and it is said sang most delightfully. . . .

He was fond of intellectual pursuits, and studied with great zest; yet he never engaged in them for mere self-gratification, or influenced by a love of fame, or a desire to attain some sinister object. All his employments and pleasures were made subordinate to the great purpose to which he had consecrated himself, and were made to subserve the cause of righteousness and the glory of God.

In the pulpit, Dr. Muhlenberg is said to have been exceedingly able. He never failed to arrest the attention, and always seemed to possess great power over his audience. He knew at once the way to the heart, and could concentrate and combine truth so as to bear with great energy on the soul. His own deep religious experience enabled him to describe the various exercises of the mind with wonderful clearness and correctness. He had carefully studied human character, and thoroughly understood the workings of the heart. He could readily adapt his efforts to all classes, and secure the interest of the illiterate as well as the most intelligent in the community. Frequently during the services, the whole congregation was bathed in tears. His sermons were particularly impressive and instructive,—of an analytical character, abounding with scriptural illustrations and facts, selected from the occurrences of every-day life. The truths of God’s word were presented with amazing simplicity, meekness, and power. Faithful and fearless, he hesitated not to declare the whole counsel of God, and to rebuke sin, unawed by the presence of man. He never compromised principle for popular applause, or in any respect proved recreant to his high responsibilities, to his solemn obligations. He never uttered sentiments unworthy the sacred desk, or intended to excite amusement. Never did he “Court a grin, when he should woo a soul.”

He kept constantly in view the great object of his vocation,—preaching the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, and pleading with sinners to become reconciled to God. He acted as if he felt he was commissioned by God to make known to dying man—“The eternal counsels: in his Master's name / To treat with them of everlasting things, / Of life, death, bliss, and woe.” He went forth in the spirit of his Master, in reliance upon the Divine strength and the promised aid, to spread the triumphs of the cross, and to cause the waste places to flourish like cedars in the courts of the Lord.

From Memoir of the Life and Times of Henry Melchior Muhlenberg by Martin Luther Stoever, for the Lutheran Board of Publication (Philadelphia: Lindsay & Blakiston, 1856).

Daily Reading for October 8 • William Dwight Porter Bliss, Priest, 1926, and Richard Theodore Ely, Economist, 1943

In the last few years, I have found myself repeatedly noting that the term “economy” itself is in its origins simply the word for housekeeping. And if this is the root or the core of its sense, we ought to be able to learn something about where the whole discourse belongs by thinking through what housekeeping actually is. A household is somewhere where life is lived in common; and housekeeping is guaranteeing that this common life has some stability about it that allows the members of the household to grow and flourish and act in useful ways. A working household is an environment in which vulnerable people are nurtured and allowed to grow up (children) or wind down (the elderly); it is a background against which active people can go out to labor in various ways to reinforce the security of the household; it is a setting where leisure and creativity can find room in the general business of intensifying and strengthening the relationships that are involved. Good housekeeping seeks common well-being so that all these things can happen; and we should note that the one thing required in a background of well-being is stability. “Housekeeping theory” is about how we use our intelligence to balance the needs of those involved and to secure trust between them. A theory that wanders too far from these basics is a recipe for damage to the vulnerable, to the regularity and usefulness of labor, and to the possibilities human beings have for renewing (and challenging) themselves through leisure and creativity.

That is the kind of damage that manifestly results from an economic climate in which everything reduces to the search for maximized profit and unlimited material growth. The effects of trying to structure economic life independently of intelligent choice about long-term goals for human beings have become more than usually visible in the last eighteen months, and one reason for holding this conference is the growing force of the question “what for?” in our global market. What is the long-term well-being we seek? What is the human face we want to see, in the mirror and in our neighbors? The isolated homo economicus of the old textbooks, making rational calculations of self-interest, has been exposed as a straw man: the search for profit at all costs in terms of risk and unrealism has shown that there can be a form of economic “rationality” that is in fact wildly irrational. And, over the last two or three decades, the impact of a narrow economic rationality on public services in our society has shown how there can be a “housekeeping” strategy that ends up destroying the nurture and stability that make a household what it is. What we most need, it seems, it to recover that vision of what the Chief Rabbi in the United Kingdom has called the home we build together.

From “Theology and Economics: Two Different Worlds?” by Rowan Williams, in Anglican Theological Review 92, no. 4 (Fall 2010).

Daily Reading for October 9 • Wilfred Thomason Grenfell, Medical Missionary, 1940

I remember the wild northern shores from which these stories come; gray rocks; dark little forests; restless, changeful seas. There is no introduction to that land, no guide book, no cicerone. Sailing over the sombre blue of waves that never quite forget the fierce cold of winter, you approach the sheer and silent coast, tranquil, reserved, impassive alike to roaring wind and caressing sunlight. You enter a little harbor, sheltered by naked islands. All that it has to offer you is yours at once: the rounded gray slopes of stone, the long recumbent hills, the black rocks breaking the water, a river valley, perhaps, marked by evergreen woods, a few wooden houses clustered along the edge of the sea and blending almost imperceptibly with the landscape. This is all; but over this scene, so cool and quiet in color, so open in its large outlines, Nature is weaving her spell of wonder and mystery, with lights of morning and evening, now opaline and seductive, now clear as crystal,—a spell so deep that it subdues the heart, and makes one feel as if that bare and lonely beauty were the only reality, and all the richer, softer regions of earth were but dreams and illusions.

I remember also some of the people who spend their lives under that wide enchantment of the double wilderness; homely, rugged folk who cling to their habitations among the rocks with an infinite, pathetic patience, as if the world had no better home to offer them; courageous, hardy fishermen, who come back year after year to these wind-vexed, uncertain waters, as if there were no safer fields where they could glean their scanty harvest. Men and women of the plain human kind, these—no pretense and no formality—rather silent in their ways, for the most part, but frank, kindly, helpful, ready to meet you without an introduction.

I remember a night last winter when I sat beside my study fire in the small hours, listening to the man who has given his life to the service of these people—a brave, steady, quiet voice, telling of difficulties overcome, and dangers faced, and victories won against the black odds of ignorance and disease, making rather light of peril and hardship so far as his own part was concerned, brightening the darkest scenes with touches of irrepressible humor, giving pictures of human character and conduct so real and vivid that they warmed the heart with sympathy, and bearing testimony not to be doubted of the power of plain religion to comfort and save plain folk in time of trouble. It was like hearing a report from one of the messengers who went out in the beginning, when Christianity was young and simple and fearless, to tell men about Jesus of Nazareth and help them for his sake.

Here, in these stories, I see again that wild, unforgettable coast, those little-speaking, much-enduring fishermen and “liveyeres”; I hear again the strong, manly, tranquil voice of Wilfred Grenfell telling the things that befell him and his friends. What does such a book need of an introduction?

You who love Nature, not trimmed and embroidered, but in the largeness and mystery of her wild charm; you who love humanity, not disguised and trained for the stage, but frankly living its own life and expressing its primitive feelings; you who know a man when you see him, and like him best when he does things; you who feel that religion is just as real as Nature, just as real as humanity, and that brave adventures may be achieved in the name of Christ,— this book is for you. This is the real thing.

From the Introduction by Henry Van Dyke to Off the Rocks: Stories of the Deep-Sea Fisherfolk of Labrador by Wilfred T. Grenfell (Philadelphia: The Sunday School Times, 1906).

Daily Reading for October 10 • The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

Why is it so difficult to acknowledge a gift as gift? Here is the reason. When I admit that something is a gift, I admit my dependence on the giver. This may not sound that difficult, but there is something within us that bristles at the idea of dependence. We want to get along by ourselves. Yet a gift is something we simply cannot give to ourselves—not as a gift, at any rate. I can buy the same thing or even something better. But it will not be a gift if I procure it for myself. . . .

When I acknowledge a gift received, I acknowledge a bond that binds me to the giver. But we tend to fear the obligations this bond entails. When I learned English thirty years ago, it was current usage in America to express one’s thanks by saying “very much obliged.” Hardly anyone uses that expression today. Why not? We simply do not want to be obliged. We want to be self-sufficient. Our language gives us away. . . .

The bonds of interdependence are ties that set us free. One single gift acknowledged in gratefulness has power to dissolve the ties of our alienation, and we are home free—home where all depend on all. The interdependence of gratefulness is truly mutual. The receiver of the gift depends on the giver. Obviously so. But the circle of gratefulness is incomplete until the giver of the gift becomes the receiver: a receiver of thanks. When we give thanks, we give something greater than the gift we received, whatever it was. The greatest gift one can give is thanksgiving. In giving gifts, we give what we can spare, but in giving thanks we give ourselves. One who says “Thank you” to another really says, “We belong together.” Giver and thanksgiver belong together. The bond that unites them frees them from alienation. Does our society suffer from so much alienation because we fail to cultivate gratefulness?

From Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer: An Approach to Life in Fullness by Brother David Steindl-Rast (Mahway, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1984).

Daily Reading for October 11 • Philip, Deacon and Evangelist

The mission of the church should follow naturally from God’s mission. The word church traces to the Old English cirice, derived from the Greek kuriakē, meaning “of (or belonging to) the Lord.” Church is that which belongs to God and exists as an extension of God’s purposes and identity. Our very reason for being is rooted in God’s mission, but that calling has literally gotten lost in translation. Instead, “church” is a building, an assembly, an event, a family or a set of culturally prescribed rituals. Meanwhile, God’s mission is confined to the realm of evangelism or social action, is done by specialists and usually takes place across town or overseas.

But if God’s mission is the healing and restoration of all creation, if the good news of Jesus is that God’s reign is being fulfilled now and that we can join him as bearers of God’s power and peace, and that we need fear nothing, not even death—if this is true, then everything changes. The story of church as an insulated, kindhearted, cultural organization is dead. We must tell out the original story of the church as God’s people on the move for the sake of God’s reign. . . .

Every church can become a community of the reign of God. That is because every congregation has an Other, a group that has been historically and systemically cast to the margins because of oppressive systems that mar the body of Christ. We pursue God’s mission whenever we move toward justice and mutuality in Christian community—oppressed and marginalized groups bringing new life to the center, tradition-bearers at the center bringing new life to the margins, both groups radically welcoming each other to bring our whole selves before God, God’s justice reshaping our relationships as we tell a new story together.

From “The Church Awake: Becoming the Missional People of God” by Stephanie Spellers, in Anglican Theological Review 92, no. 1 (Winter 2010).

Daily Reading for October 12 • Vida Dutton Scudder, Educator and Witness for Peace, 1954 (transferred)

The truth of universal force is recognized by science as a physical fact; it becomes in poetry a spiritual law. It follows that the delight of the poets centres no longer in permanent scenes, but dwells rather on those constantly shifting and successive manifestations of power which forever struggle to shadow forth to us the ideal beauty that lies beyond our senses’ ken. The old style of dry enumeration vanishes; the sadness of decay is recognized as the necessary condition of the law of growth; and the treatment of nature, which had been purely pictorial, becomes akin to another art, — the art of the musician. As the essence of music lies in change, and the chord, indefinitely prolonged, would be no music at all, so it seems to us with the deeper harmony of the life of the world. It is curious to see how this love for transition as distinguished from permanence pervades nearly every allusion to nature in our modern poetry. The power delicately to seize fleeting effects, elusive phases of beauty, — is not this what lends interest for us to a poet’s work? Not the moments when the beauty is fixed, but those when it is fugitive, are the favorites of our poets. Listen for a moment to this description in “The Sunset”:

“There now the sun had set, but lines of gold
Hung on the ashen clouds, and on the points
Of the far level grass and nodding flowers,
And the old dandelion’s hoary head,
And mingled with the shades of evening, lay
On the brown mossy wood; and in the East
The broad and burning moon lingeringly rose
Between the black trunks of the farthest trees,
While the faint stars were gathering overhead.”

See how evanescent is the moment which the poet has chosen to depict. Another instant and the gold will have faded from the dun soft clouds, and the moon have risen above the treetops. See how the charm of the scene lies in the tremulous sense of a beauty too unearthly to linger, the reference in the first line to the day that had fled, in the last to the gathering night. The lines are Shelley’s; and more, perhaps, than any other poet Shelley is steeped in this sense of elastic and never-resting force. He turns aside with impatience from anything fixed. The soaring circle of the lark, the flowing of the river, the drift of the cloud across the sky, the onward sweep of the west wind, — these are the aspects on which he constantly lingers. Few of them, indeed, will you find emphasized in older poetry. Among our other modern poets the same tendency is hardly less marked. The revolution in temper can hardly be measured between a generation perfectly satisfied with Milton’s mechanical catalogues, or Thompson’s stereotyped and isolated studies, and one which expresses its attitude towards nature in such a poem as Wordsworth’s Lucy. In poets the most diverse — in Tennyson, Rossetti, Kingsley, Emerson — we find the same delicate vitality in the treatment of nature; and we can ascribe the change to nothing if not to the new perception of all phenomena as alike maintained and destroyed by an innate principle of force.

From The Life of the Spirit in the Modern English Poets by Vida D. Scudder (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin and Co., 1899).

Daily Reading for October 13

In its loving description of the most ordinary events like sleeping and the most ordinary objects like knives, the Rule of St. Benedict invites a rich way of seeing. Your hours of sleep continue the rhythm of the Rule, made holy by the act of consecration of your life to God. Your trip to the supermarket is a pilgrimage. Your folding and putting away the clothes is a participation in God’s ongoing act of creation, making order out of chaos. Benedictine formation is learning to see this way. . . .

Days spent in a hospital bed (few of us will escape) give glory to God; all has value, especially suffering. For the Benedictine, ordinary days—bringing the cares of home and job to prayer, and bringing the rewards of prayer to home and work—afford endless opportunities for finding the sacred in the secular; or better, for obliterating the distinction between the sacred and the secular. The sacred is pressed down and overflowing in the so-called secular. The source and summit of Benedictine life is the eucharistic liturgy, where with self-forgetfulness we can see Christ in word, in bread and wine, in the community, especially the “unimportant” and easily overlooked members of the community. Emphasis on humility in the Rule gives witness to this search for the holiness of the other in self-forgetfulness.

After a lifetime of such training in proper seeing, the Benedictine oblate at the point is ready for what T. S. Eliot calls the familiar unknown. Our eyes close in death and open to see that Face we have searched for our whole lives, often without knowing it.

From “Was Blind but Now I See” by Janice Daurio, in The Oblate Life, edited by Gervase Holdaway OSB (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2008).

Daily Reading for October 14 • Samuel Isaac Joseph Schereschewsky, Bishop of Shanghai, 1906

Samuel Isaac Joseph Schereschewsky, who had lived in Peking for several years laying the foundations of a deep knowledge of the Chinese language, was elected Bishop of Shanghai in 1875, after Bishop Williams’ withdrawal to Japan. He declined the bishopric at first, but yielded his wish when elected a second time in 1876. He was one of many remarkable men who came to China in those early years of mission work. By birth a Jew, by training a student, by nature an accomplished linguist, it was only natural that the bent of his mind should be towards translation work. He had done much while in Peking, but it seemed possible that the claim of his episcopal work would put a stop to his literary activity. His brief episcopate saw the founding of one of the best-known missionary institutions in China, namely, St. John’s College at Jessfield, close to Shanghai, and the kindred institution of St. Mary’s Hall, for women and girls. But hardly had these institutions been opened, ere their founder was laid aside by sunstroke, resulting in paralysis. To many men such an affliction would have been the signal for retirement from the mission-field. The Bishop, however, was a man of a different stamp. He relinquished the episcopal burden which had been laid upon him against his will, only to take up again the work of translation which he had been forced to lay aside for a few years. With indomitable courage and energy, paralyzed as he was, so that he could only use a typewriter with one finger, for sixteen years he persevered with his work, completing a translation of the entire Bible under circumstances which fairly entitle his labours to be called heroic. . . .

The first feature of the American Church Mission, which cannot fail to impress every student of Missions, is the attention given to education. Education seems to be, if not the prerogative of American Missions, at least their speciality; and the Church Mission is no exception to the rule. We have already noted the foundation of the two colleges round which this branch of the work centres. . . . Another mark of American courage is the endeavour to make the curriculum in all their schools as closely conformable to modern educational ideas as possible. That this involves a comparative slight upon the Chinese Classics is certain; and it may be doubted whether the latter will not have to secure greater alteration in the future than they have done hitherto. There has been some temptation to think that the reign of the celebrated Classics is already over; but signs are not wanting that they will come to take their place even among such modern subjects as mathematics, science, English, and the like, as firmly as English literature has taken its place with ourselves. There has been a reaction from the old traditional view which confined all education to the Classics: but patriotism and a knowledge of their native language alike demand that the students of to-day should not altogether ignore the literary treasures of their own land.

From “The Church in the Yangtse Valley,” in China by Frank L. Norris (London and Oxford: A. R. Mowbray, 1908).

Daily Reading for October 15 • Teresa of Avila, Nun, 1582

I would advise those who give themselves to prayer, particularly at first, to form friendships; and converse familiarly, with others who are doing the same thing. It is a matter of the last importance, even if it lead only to helping one another by prayer: how much more, seeing that it has led to much greater gain! Now, if in their intercourse with one another, and in the indulgence of human affections even not of the best kind, men seek friends with whom they may refresh themselves, and for the purpose of having greater satisfaction in speaking of their empty joys, I know no reason why it should not be lawful for him who is beginning to love and serve God in earnest to confide to another his joys and sorrows; for they who are given to prayer are thoroughly accustomed to both. . . .

I do not know whether the things I am saying are foolish or not. If they be so, your reverence will strike them out. I entreat you to help my simplicity by adding a good deal to this, because the things that relate to the service of God are so feebly managed, that it is necessary for those who would serve Him to join shoulder to shoulder, if they are to advance at all; for it is considered safe to live amidst the vanities and pleasures of the world, and few there be who regard them with unfavourable eyes. But if any one begins to give himself up to the service of God, there are so many to find fault with him, that it becomes necessary for him to seek companions, in order that he may find protection among them till he grows strong enough not to feel what he may be made to suffer. If he does not, he will find himself in great straits. This, I believe, must have been the reason why some of the saints withdrew into the desert.

From The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila by Herself, translated by David Lewis (Digireads.com Publishing, 2009).

Daily Reading for October 16 • Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, Bishops and Martyrs, 1555

Oh, dear brother, seeing the time is now come when it pleaseth the heavenly Father, for Christ our Saviour his sake, to call upon you, and to bid you come, happy are you that ever you were born, thus to be awake at the Lord’s calling. O dear brother, what meaneth this, that you are sent into your own native country? The wisdom and policy of the world may mean what they will; but I trust God will so order the matter finally by his fatherly providence, that some great occasion of God’s gracious goodness shall be plenteously poured abroad amongst his, our dear brethren in that country, by this your martyrdom. Where the martyrs for Christ’s sake shed their blood and lost their lives, oh what wondrous things hath Christ afterward wrought to his glory and confirmation of their doctrine! If it be not the place that sanctifieth the man, but the holy man doth by Christ sanctify the place, brother Bradford, then happy and holy shall be that place wherein thou shalt suffer, and shall be with thy ashes in Christ’s cause sprinkled over withal. All thy country may rejoice of thee, that ever it brought forth such a one, which would render his life again in His cause of whom he had received it.

Brother Bradford, so long as I shall understand that thou art in thy journey, by God’s grace I shall call upon our heavenly Father, for Christ’s sake, to set thee safely home: and then, good brother, speak you and pray for the remnant that are for to suffer for Christ’s sake, according to that thou then shalt know more clearly.

We do look now every day when we shall be called on, blessed on God! I ween, I am the weakest many ways of our company; and yet I thank our Lord God and heavenly Father by Christ, that since I heard of our dear brother Rogers’ departing and stout confession of Christ and his truth even unto the death, my heart (blessed be God!) so rejoiced of it, that since that time, I say, I never felt any lumpish heaviness in my heart, as I grant I have felt sometimes before. O good brother, blessed be God in thee, and blessed be the time that ever I knew thee. Farewell, farewell.

Your brother in Christ, N.R.
Brother, farewell.

From a letter to John Bradford, prisoner in the King’s Bench, from Nicholas Ridley, quoted in Letters of Doctor Ridley; found at http://anglicanhistory.org/reformation/ps/ridley/letters1-21.pdf

Daily Reading for October 17 • The Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost

There are some who think frequent Communion apt to produce too great familiarity, and consequently abate of the reverence with which we should approach the dreadful Mysteries: ’tis true, familiarity amongst men, creates many times contempt; because the more we are acquainted with one another, the more we discover our infirmities and defects, and that lessens our esteem. But ’tis quite otherwise with God, whom the more we know and contemplate, the more we love, and the more we love the more we admire and revere; because he is all perfection; and therefore those who are much given to converse with God, by prayer, close meditation, and frequent Communion, do usually far exceed in holiness and virtue those who only contemplate his attributes at distance, and approach him but seldom. . . . .

As love then is better than fear, nay as love is the noblest passion, and highest felicity which the soul is capable of in this, or the life to come; so doubtless, if love carry us to this Lover of Souls, we cannot come too often to this Holy Table.

From A Devotionarie Book of John Evelyn of Wotton, 1620-1706 (John Murray, 1936).

Daily Reading for October 18 • St. Luke the Evangelist

The third Evangelist is Luke, who was a physician in the world,
and dwelt with the apostles, and with Paul afterward,
serving the Almighty without any sin
in a pure life, ever without a wife, filled with God’s Spirit,
and he wrote and wisely arranged the Gospel,
and he also wrote the Acts of the Apostles.
He wrote his Gospel in the land of Achaia,
and departed to God, filled with the Holy Ghost,
when he was four and eighty years of age. . . .

Now we have said, in this epitome,
how God revealed the true Evangelists
in the Old Law, and also in the New;
and these four only are to be received
in the orthodox church, and the others to be rejected,
who wrote false writings, by themselves (only),
not by the Holy Ghost, nor by the Saviour’s choosing.
Thus we end this treatise here.

From “Other Things: The Four Evangelists,” in The Lives of Saints, Volume 1, by Aelfric, edited by Walter W. Skeat (Early English Text Society edition).

Daily Reading for October 19 • Henry Martyn, Priest, and Missionary to India and Persia, 1812, and William Carey, Missionary to India, 1834

January 1-8, 1812. Spared by mercy to see the beginning of another year. The last has been in some respects a memorable year; transported in safety to Shiraz, I have been led by the particular providence of God to undertake a work, the idea of which never entered my mind till my arrival here, but which has gone on without material interruption, and is now nearly finished. To all appearance the present year will be more perilous than any I have seen, but if I live to complete the Persian New Testament, my life after that will be of less importance. But whether life or death be mine, may Christ be magnified in me. If he has work for me to do, I cannot die. . . .

January 24. Found Seid Ali rather serious this evening. He said he did not know what to do to have his mind made up about religion. Of all the religions Christ’s was the best, but whether to prefer this to Sufism he could not tell. In these doubts he is tossed to and fro, and is often kept awake the whole night in tears. He and his brother talk together on these things till they are almost crazed. Before he was engaged in this work of translation, he says he used to read about two or three hours a day, now he can do nothing else; has no inclination for anything else, and feels unhappy if he does not correct his daily portion. His late employment has given a new turn to his thoughts as well as to those of his friends; they had not the most distant conception of the contents of the New Testament. He says his Sufi friends are exceedingly anxious to see the Epistles, from the accounts he gives of them, and also he is sure that almost the whole of Shiraz are so sensible of the load of unmeaning ceremonies in which their religion consists, that they will rejoice to see or hear of anything like freedom, and that they would be more willing to embrace Christ than the Sufis who after taking so much pains to be independent of all law, would think it degrading to submit themselves to any law again, however light. We had some more conversation about Sufism, but as usual I came to nothing like a clear understanding of the nature of it. . . .

March 18. Sat a good part of the day with Abulcasim the Sufi sage, Mirza Seid Ali, and Aga Mahommed Hasan, who begins to be a disciple of the old man’s. On my expressing a wish to see the Indian book, it was proposed to send for it, which they did, and then read it aloud. The stoicism of it I controverted, and said that the entire annihilation of the passions, which the stupid Brahmin described as perfection, was absurd. On my continuing to treat other parts of the book with contempt, the old man was a little roused, and said that this was the way that pleased them, and my way pleased me. That thus God provided something for the tastes of all, and as the master of a feast provides a great variety—some eat pilaw, others prefer kubab, &c. On my again remarking afterwards, how useless all these descriptions of perfection were, since no rules were given for attaining it, the old man asked what in my opinion was the way. I said we all agreed in one point, namely, that union with God was perfection; that in order to that we must receive the Spirit of God, which Spirit was promised on condition of believing in Jesus, There was a good deal of disputing about Jesus, his being exclusively the visible God. Nothing came of it apparently, but that Mirza Seid Ali afterwards said, there is no getting at anything like truth or certainty. We know nothing at all; you are in the right, who simply believe because Jesus had said so.

From Journals and Letters of the Rev. Henry Martyn, B.D., edited by the Rev. S. Wilberforce (London: Seeley and Burnside, 1837).

Daily Reading for October 20

Repentance itself is nothing else but a kind of circling; to return to him by repentance, from whom by sin we have turned away. This circle consists of two things. These two things need to be in two different movements. One is done with the whole heart, while the other is broken and torn. So both things cannot happen at the same time.

First of all you must turn. In this you look forward to God and with your whole heart resolve to turn to him. Then, you must turn again, and this time you look backwards to yours sins, in which we have turned away from God. As we look at them our actual heart breaks. One turn is conversion from sin, and the other turn is contrition for sin. One resolves to amend what is to come while the other reflects on and is sorrowful over the past. One resists future evil while the other passes sentence on itself for the evil that it has already done. Between them, these two make up complete repentance, or a perfect revolution.

From Sermon Four on Repentance: Ash Wednesday (1619) by Lancelot Andrewes.

Daily Reading for October 21

Love for God cannot be separated from love of neighbor. Jesus calls us to love God through our neighbor—by visiting prisoners, by hospitality to strangers, by actions that ostensibly give us no reward at the end of a long day’s work. Jesus seems idealistic at best. When we look around and see others prospering through violence or greed, most of us pay little attention to God’s love. How can we? After all, we live in a “real” world in which survival is paramount. Work with prisoners or those on death row may be typical of God’s kind of love, which gravitates toward generosity and gift, but not for our kind of love that is seeking to survive in a violent world. Jesus knows our dilemma, but he does not let us off the hook. He still requires us to channel God’s infinite generosity. Just as we cannot love God without loving our neighbor, we cannot worship in a church building without also ministering in a jail, hospital, or school.

God’s love always points toward the capacity to love outside of self-interest. When it came to heaven, Jesus was no realist—if by realism we mean self-interest. This was his genius. Perhaps the greatest lesson in this for us is to learn that we must prepare to love as God loves—through random acts of kindness. We prepare through our daily prayers. We prepare through the butterflies in our stomach when we make our first volunteer visit in a jail. This kind of preparation hones our skills of navigation as we make our way toward heaven—toward the real heaven, not just our own narcissistic version of heaven. We must practice heaven. In so doing, we catch glimpses of God’s idea of what’s real because we are increasing our attention span to see beyond the ordinary.

From “A Strange Route to Heaven” by Michael Battle, in Heaven, edited by Roger Ferlo (New York: Seabury Books, 2007).

Daily Reading for October 22

They who take up religion on a false ground will never adhere to it. If they adopt it merely for the peace and pleasantness it brings, they will desert it as soon as they find their adherence to it will bring them into difficulty, distress, or discredit. It seldom answers therefore to attempt making proselytes by hanging out false colours. The Christian “endures as seeing him who is invisible.” He who adopts religion for the sake of immediate enjoyment, will not do a virtuous action that is disagreeable to himself; nor resist a temptation that is alluring, present pleasure being his motive. There is no sure basis for virtue but the love of God in Christ Jesus, and the bright reversion for which that love is pledged. Without this, as soon as the paths of piety become rough and thorny, we shall stray into pleasanter pastures.

From Practical Piety by Hannah More, volume 1 (London, 1812).

Daily Reading for October 23 • St. James of Jerusalem, Brother of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and Martyr, c. 62

As leader of the Jewish Christian communities and in particular the Jerusalem community, James was predominantly concerned with the self-definition and identity of Jesus’ followers. Like his brother Jesus, James saw his Jewish heritage. He did this by working for the restoration of the people of Israel following the direction set by Jesus’ ministry. James did not envision the followers of Jesus belonging to a new religion; they were the true heirs of God’s promises made to Israel. In Jesus’ life and ministry these promises had begun to be realized. This messianic movement belonged fully within the world of Israel’s faith and heritage. James sought to remain true to this vision.

As leader of the Jewish Christian communities in Jerusalem and the Diaspora, James approached every issue from the framework of his Jewish heritage. The decision of the Council of Jerusalem and the Apostolic Decree illustrate this approach very well. Circumcision was not required of the Gentile men who followed Jesus, and no ritual or cultic laws were required of Gentile believers beyond the stipulations that belonged to all Gentiles, namely the Noachide commandments and Leviticus 17-18. These stipulations were important for James, as they were a way of demonstrating identity: for the followers of Jesus these were the laws that gave them an identity in distinction to the society around them. These stipulations enabled them to define the boundaries. . . .

James’ ethnic and religious background as a Jewish Christian defined his whole perspective. James saw his role as remaining faithful to the directions set by Jesus in striving for the restoration of God’s twelve-tribe kingdom. Fidelity to Torah was the center for retaining access to God and for defining boundaries in interface with others. The struggle with Peter, Barnabas, and Paul related to James’ concern with preserving the centuries-old Jewish social map of the world. In relation to Paul’s outreach to the Gentile world, James’ attitude was more one of tolerance than active support. In effect James’ approach was to confine himself to the world of Jewish Christians. If Gentiles wished to associate with the Christian movement, James had no objection. He viewed their relationship with Jewish Christians as analogous to the relationship that existed between Jews and resident aliens within the world of Palestine.

From James of Jerusalem: Heir to Jesus of Nazareth by Patrick J. Hartin (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2004).

Daily Reading for October 24 • The Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost

These are the stages to freedom from self-centeredness,
to humility,
the centerpiece of the true life.

The first stage of humility
is to keep the sacred nature of consciousness
and the world in which it exists
always alive within us.

Everything we think,
everything we do,
everything we feel,
is cast in time forever.
Every moment that we live is irreplaceable,
therefore each moment is hallowed.

We must be on guard
against despair, against fear,
against bitterness, against self-seeking,
and have the tenacity and courage
to think optimistically and act affirmatively,
and to put the needs of others always before our own. . . .

The fifth stage of humility
is not to conceal our faults,
but to be ruthlessly honest
with ourselves
and about ourselves,
for to lie to ourselves or to others
is to falsify our relationship with true life. . . .

The seventh stage of humility
is not only to declare ourselves to be humble,
but to believe in our hearts that we are of no consequence.
For alone we are of no moment—
in the vast reaches and endless memory of the universe
our most profound idea is the merest fantasy;
our greatest triumphs
and our meanest actions
are as lasting as a mark in sand.

From Always We Begin Again: The Benedictine Way of Living by John McQuiston II. Copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for October 25

Wretched men and women are they who, neglecting the care of their interior, show only exteriorly a form and likeness of holiness, in habit or clothing, in speech and outward carriage and works, casting their eyes upon other men’s deeds, and judging their defects, esteeming themselves to be something, when indeed they are just nothing, and so deceive themselves. Do not do so yourself; but together with your body turn principally your heart to God, and frame your interior to his likeness, by humility and charity and other spiritual virtues, and then you are truly turned to him. I say not that you may early on the first day be turned to him in your soul in perfection of virtues as you may with your body be enclosed in a house; but my meaning is, that you should know that the end of your bodily enclosure is that you might thereby the better come to a spiritual enclosure; and even as your body is enclosed from bodily converse with men, even so your heart might be enclosed from the inordinate loves and fears of all earthly things.

From The Scale (or Ladder) of Pefection by Walter Hilton, chapter 1

Daily Reading for October 26 • Alfred the Great, King of the West Saxons, 899

Alfred was loved by his father and mother, and even by all the people, above all his brothers, and was educated altogether at the court of the king. As he advanced through the years of infancy and youth, his form appeared more comely than that of his brothers; in look, in speech, and in manners he was more graceful than they. His noble nature implanted in him from his cradle a love of wisdom above all things; but, with shame be it spoken, by the unworthy neglect of his parents and nurses, he remained illiterate even till he was twelve years old or more; but, he listened with serious attention to the Saxon poems which he often heard recited, and easily retained them in his docile memory. He was a zealous practiser of hunting in all its branches, and hunted with great assiduity and success; for skill and good fortune in this art, as in all others, are among the gifts of God, as we also have often witnessed.

On a certain day, therefore, his mother was showing him and his brother a Saxon book of poetry, which she held in her hand, and said, “Whichever of you shall the soonest learn this volume shall have it for his own.” Stimulated by these words, or rather by the Divine inspiration, and allured by the beautifully illuminated letter at the beginning of the volume, he spoke before all his brothers, who, though his seniors in age, were not so in grace, and answered, “Will you really give that book to one of us, that is to say, to him who can first understand and repeat it to you?” At this his mother smiled with satisfaction, and confirmed what she had before said. Upon which the boy took the book out of her hand, and went to his master to read it, and in due time brought it to his mother and recited it.

After this he learned the daily course, that is, the celebration of the hours, and afterwards certain psalms, and several prayers, contained in a certain book which he kept day and night in his bosom, as we ourselves have seen, and carried about with him to assist his prayers, amid all the bustle and business of this present life. But, sad to say, he could not gratify his most ardent wish to learn the liberal arts, because, as he said, there were no good readers at that time in all the kingdom of the West-Saxons.

This he confessed, with many lamentations and sighs, to have been one of his greatest difficulties and impediments in this life, namely, that when he was young and had the capacity for learning, he could not find teachers; but, when he was more advanced in life, he was harassed by so many diseases unknown to all the physicians of this island, as well as by internal and external anxieties of sovereignty, and by continual invasions of the pagans, and had his teachers and writers also so much disturbed, that there was no time for reading. But yet among the impediments of this present life, from infancy up to the present time, and, as I believe, even until his death, he continued to feel the same insatiable desire of knowledge, and still aspires after it.

From The Life of King Alfred: From A.D. 849 to A.D. 887 by Asser, Bishop of Sherborne, Part I; found at http://omacl.org/KingAlfred/part1.html

Daily Reading for October 27

The chief mark of counterfeit holiness is its lack of humility. Every seeker after holiness needs to be on his guard, lest unconsciously what was begun in the spirit be perfected in the flesh, and pride creep in where its presence is least expected. Two men went up into the temple to pray: the one a Pharisee, the other a publican. There is no place or position so sacred but the Pharisee can enter there. Pride can lift its head in the very temple of God, and make his worship the scene of its self-exaltation. Since the time Christ so exposed his pride, the Pharisee has put on the garb of the publican, and the confessor of deep sinfulness equally with the professor of the highest holiness, must be on the watch. Just when we are most anxious to have our heart the temple of God, we shall find the two men coming up to pray. And the publican will find that his danger is not from the Pharisee beside him, who despises him, but the Pharisee within who commends and exalts. In God’s temple, when we think we are in the holiest of all, in the presence of his holiness, let us beware of pride. . . .

“God, I thank Thee, I am not as the rest of men, or even as this publican.” It is in that which is just cause for thanksgiving, it is in the very thanksgiving which we render to God, it may be in the very confession that God has done it all, that self finds its cause of complacency. Yes, even when in the temple the language of penitence and trust in God’s mercy alone is heard, the Pharisee may take up the note of praise, and in thanking God be congratulating himself. Pride can clothe itself in the garments of praise or of penitence.

Even though the words, “I am not as the rest of men,” are rejected and condemned, their spirit may too often be found in our feelings and language towards our fellow-worshippers and fellow-men. Would you know if this really is so, just listen to the way in which churches and Christians often speak of one another. How little of the meekness and gentleness of Jesus is to be seen. It is so little remembered that deep humility must be the keynote of what the servants of Jesus say of themselves or each other. Is there not many a church or assembly of the saints, many a mission or convention, many a society or committee, even many a mission away in heathendom, where the harmony has been disturbed and the work of God hindered, because men who are counted saints have proved in touchiness and haste and impatience, in self-defense and self-assertion, in sharp judgments and unkind words, that they did not each reckon others better than themselves, and that their holiness has but little in it of the meekness of the saints?

From Humility: The Beauty of Holiness by the Rev. Andrew Murray (New York: Anson D. F. Randolph & Co., 1896).

Daily Reading for October 28 • St. Simon and St. Jude, Apostles

Apostolos means “one who is sent (forth)” or, more simply, “sent one.” As with most of the key moments of decision in Luke’s writings, Jesus’ selection of the Twelve followed a night of prayer (Luke 6:12-16). . . . Their number recalls the twelve tribes of Israel and the twelve sons of Jacob for whom the tribes are named. Of the Twelve, we are told that at least four were Galilean fishermen (the two pairs of siblings), one was a tax collector (Levi/Matthew), and one was most likely a member of a political party committed to the overthrow of the occupying Roman Empire (Simon the Zealot). Most, if not all, lived their entire lives in that small, neglected corner of the empire. None had Greek names and the likelihood is that Aramaic, not Greek, was their native tongue. They were provincial in their experience and in their vision, and yet to these unlikely candidates Jesus gave “power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases” and commissioned them “to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to heal” (Luke 9:1-2). Proclamation accompanied by deeds of power—this was to be their apostolic work. This is what these “sent ones” were sent to do. But how would they learn to do this work? What would be their instruction guide?

For Luke, the answer is not a “what” but a “who.” Jesus himself is both the prototype and the living exemplar of all that his apostles were called to be. Between their initial selection in Luke 6 and their official commissioning in Luke 9, these “sent ones” walked with Jesus and witnessed all that he said and did. . . . Jesus not only understands himself as God’s “sent one,” but recognizes that such a ministry involves moving beyond the familiar and the comfortable. This is a constant motif in the gospel, as Jesus again and again reaches out to the marginal ones of his time: women and children, servants and slaves, Samaritans and Romans, and those considered to be “sinners.” All this the apostles witness as they follow Jesus in the time between their calling and their commissioning. Yet they often do not seem to get it, . . . and it is little wonder that Luke soon introduces another group, seventy workers whom Jesus sends out in pairs.

From Conversations with Scripture: The Acts of the Apostles by C. K. Robertson. Copyright © 2010. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for October 29 • James Hannington, Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, and his Companions, Martyrs, 1885

Life is short,
And we do not have much time
to gladden the hearts of those who
make the journey with us.
So . . . be swift to love,
and make haste to be kind.
And the blessing of God,
who made us,
who loves us,
and who travels with us
be with you now and forever.
Amen.

A blessing given at the closing Eucharist of the 2010 convention of the Diocese of Maine, based on the words of Henri Frederic Amiel (1821-1881).

Daily Reading for October 30 • John Wyclif, Priest and Prophetic Witness, 1384

Like many scholars of today, Wyclif’s reputation for learning caused him to be called into government service. Popes had long claimed the right to tax clergy anywhere in the Western world. When, however, the papacy moved to France and came under the protection of the French Crown, the English began to feel that such taxes were taking their money to arm their enemies against them. In 1371, Parliament had just levied a large tax on the English clergy to help pay for the war against France when the pope levied another to finance a war to recover papal territories in Italy. Wyclif was invited to be a member of the second of two unsuccessful English delegations to Bruges to negotiate the matter with papal officials.

This involvement led Wyclif to begin to think about government. In the treatise on civil dominion in his Summa, he argued the thesis that no one in a state of sin has a right to exercise authority. God may allow someone to occupy such a position in a state of sin, but that person does so without any divine claim to the position. He drew a number of inferences from this, including the principle that Christians ought to have all things in common. Yet he applied his thesis very differently to civil and church governments. Even a bad king should be obeyed, as Christ obeyed Pilate, but “whenever an ecclesiastical community or person habitually abuses its wealth, kings, princes and temporal lords can take it away, however much it may be established by human tradition.”

By the time of publication in 1376, when Wyclif was in his mid-forties, he took the first step toward his later recognition as a heretic, that of siding with the Crown against church government at any level when the latter could be accused of using its wealth for itself rather than to help the poor. Why he chose to work out the implications of his thesis for church government alone and not for civil as well, no one knows. Needless to say, his opinions were more welcome to political than to religious leaders. As a result, Wyclif enjoyed the protection of John of Gaunt, son of the king and one of the most influential men at court. John invited him to London to preach a series of sermons against the worldliness of the bishops of London and Winchester. When the bishop of London summoned him to trail for these sermons, Wyclif was accompanied not only by four advocates but also by John and the marshal of England, and the trial ended in a riot.

From A History of Preaching by O. C. Edwards (Nashville, Tenn.: Abingdon Press, 2004).

Daily Reading for October 31 • The Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost

Zacchaeus must be praised. His riches were unable to keep him from the royal threshold. He should be greatly praised because his riches brought him to the threshold of the kingdom. From this, we understand that wealth is not a hindrance but a help to attaining the glory of Christ. While we possess it, we should not squander it on wild living but give it away for the sake of salvation. There is no crime in possessions, but there is crime in those who do not know how to use possessions. For the foolish, wealth is a temptation to vice, but for the wise, it is a help to virtue. Some receive an opportunity for salvation, but others acquire an obstacle of condemnation.

From Sermons 95-96 of Maximus of Turin, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament III, Luke, edited by Arthur A. Just, Jr. (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2003).