Archives: Episodes

Soul Greatness

Strong is the Soul, and wise, and beautiful;
The seeds of god-like power are in us still;
Gods are we, bards, saints, heroes, if we will.

—Matthew Arnold.

Making Most Of The Present

Time wears all his locks before,
Take thou hold upon his forehead;
When he flies, he turns no more,
And behind his scalp is naked.
Works adjourned have many stays,
Long demurs breed new delays.

—Robert Southwell.

Opportunity Speaks To The Awakened

They do me wrong who say I come no more
When once I knocked and fail to find you in;
For every day I stand outside your door,
And bid you wake and rise to fight and win.
Wail not for precious chances passed away,
Weep not for golden ages on the wane;
Each night I burn the records of the day,
At sunrise every soul is born again.
Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped,
To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb;
My judgments seal the dead past with its dead,
But never bind a moment yet to come.
Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep,
I lend my arm to all who say: ” I can.”
No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep
But he might rise and be again a man.

—Walter Malone.

Alternate Reading: James 2:14-26.

The Culture Of The Cross

The Cross was an open secret to the first disciples, and they climbed the steep ascent to heaven by the Royal Way of the Holy Cross, but its simplicity has been often veiled in later days. A glamour has been cast over the modern mind by the simplicity of the symbol. Jesus’ Cross has been taken out of His hands and smothered in flowers: it has become what He would have hated, a source of graceful ideas and agreeable emotions. When Jesus presented the Cross for the salvation of His disciples, He was certainly not thinking of a sentiment, which can disturb no man’s life, nor redeem any man’s soul, but of the unsightly beam which must be set up in the midst of a man’s pleasures.

—John Watson.

Being Virtuous And Being Innocent

Friend, thou art seeking thy light in the dispersion of the cloud, and all the time thy light is tn the cloud. Thou art asking God for an explanation of thy darkness, and thou art expecting an answer from all quarters but one—the darkness itself. Yet it is there, and nowhere else, that the secret lies. Thy cloud is thy fire-chariot; thy trial is thy triumph. The best gift of Divine love to thee has been thy pain; it has taught thee what is the difference between being virtuous and being innocent. Thou hast been self-deceived, O my Brother. Thou hast been down in the valley of the shadow, and thou hast been looking up to the calm heavens to find thy God. The calm heavens have not answered thee, and thou hast said, “Verily, Thou art a God that hidest Thyself.” Yet all the time thy God has been beside thee in the valley, a sharer in the shadow of thy life. Thou hast been looking too far to find Him; thou hast cried to the heavens when He was at thy very door. The night under which thou hast murmured has been hiding in its folds a wondrous treasure—the very essence of the King of Kings.

—George Matheson.

Alternate Reading: II Kings 4:1-7.

The Contagion Of Character

On the last and greatest day of the Festival, Jesus, who was standing by, exclaimed:

“If any one thirsts, let him come to me, and drink. He who believes in me—As Scripture says, Out of his heart shall flow rivers of ‘Living Water.'”

—John.

The Thought Of God

One thought I have, my ample creed,
So deep it is and broad,
And equal to my every need,—
It is the thought of God.

Each morn unfolds some fresh surprise,
I feast at Life’s full board;
And, rising in my inner skies,
Shines forth die thought of God.

At night my gladness is my prayer;
I drop my daily load,
And every care is pillowed there
Upon the thought of God.

I ask not far before to see,
But take in trust, my road;
Life, death, and immortality
Are in my thought of God.

To this their secret strength they owed
The martyr’s path who trod;
The fountains of their patience flowed
From out their thought of God.

Be still the light upon my way,
My pilgrim staff and rod,
My rest by night, my strength by day,
O blessed thought of God.

—F. L. Hosmer.

Fruitful Living

A little bit of patience often makes the sunshine come,
And a little bit of love makes a very happy home;
A little bit of hope makes a rainy day look gay,
And a little bit of charity makes glad a weary way.
Only a thought, but the work it wrought
Could never by tongue or pen be taught;
For it ran through a life like a thread of gold,
And the life bore fruit a hundred fold.

—Jessie Gordon.

Eternal Life

The World with its cravings is passing away, But those who do God’s will live forever.

—John.

The Measureless Soul Of Man

I open my ecuttle at night and see the far sprinkled systems,
And all I see, multiplied as high as I can cipher, edge but the rim of the farther systems.

Wider and wider they spread, expanding, always expanding,
Outward, outward, and forever outward.

My sun has his sun, and around him obediently wheels,
He joins with his partners a group of superior circuit,
And greater sets follow, making specks of the greatest inside them.

There is no stoppage, and never can be stoppage,
If I, you, the worlds, all beneath or upon their surfaces, and all the palpable life, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail in the long run,

We should surely bring up again where we now stand,
And as surely go as much farther—and then farther and farther.

A few quadrillions of eras, a few octillions of cubic leagues, do not hazard the span, or make it impatient,
They are but parts-—anything is but a part.
See ever so far, there is limitless space outside of that,
Count ever so much, there is limitless time around that.

My rendezvous is appointed,
The Lord will be there, and wait till I come on perfect terms.
I know I have the best of time and space, and
Was never measured, and never will be measured.

—Walt Whitman.

Alternate Reading: Psalms 33:1-9.

Each In His Own Tongue

A fire-mist and a planet,—
A crystal and a cell,—
A jelly-fish and a saurian,
And caves where the cavemen dwell
Then a sense of law and beauty,
And a face turned from the clod,—
Some call it evolution,
And others call it—God.

A haze on the far horizon,
The infinite, tender sky,
The ripe, rich tints of the corn-fields,
And the wild geese sailing high,—
And all over upland and lowland
The charm of the golden-rod,—
Some of us call it Autumn,
And others call it—God.

Like tides on a crescent sea-beach
When the moon is new and thin,
Into our hearts, high yearnings
Come welling and surging in,—
Come from the mystic ocean
Whose rim no foot has trod,—
Some of us call it Longing,
And others call it—God.

A picket frozen on duty,—
A mother starved for her brood,—
Socrates drinking the hemlock,
And Jesus on the rood;
And the millions, who, humble and nameless,
The hard, strait pathway plod,—
Some call it Consecration,
And others call it—God.

—W. H. Carruth.

Happiness In Work

It may be proved, with much certainty, that God intends no man to live in this world without working; but it seems to me no less evident that he intends every man to be happy in his work. Now, in order that people may be happy in their work, these three things are needed: they must be fit for it; and they must not do too much of it; and they must have a sense of success in it.

—John Ruskin.

Alternate Reading: Psalms 19.

Jesus Preaches In The Temple Court

About the middle of the Festival week, Jesus went up into the Temple Courts, and began teaching. The Jews were astonished.

“How has this man got bis learning,” they asked, “when he has never studied? “

So, in reply, Jesus said:

“My teaching is not my own; it is his who sent me. If any one has the will to do God’s will, he will find out whether my teaching is from God, or whether I speak on my own authority. The man who speaks on his own authority seeks honor for himself; but the man who seeks the honor of him that sent him is sincere, and there is nothing false in him. Was not it Moses who gave you the Law? Yet not one of you obeys it! Why are you seeking to put me to death?”

“You must be possessed by a demon!” the people exclaimed. “Who is seeking to put you to death? “

“There was one thing I did,” replied Jesus, “at which you are all still wondering. But that is why Moses has instituted circumcision among you—not, indeed, that it began with him, but with our ancestors—and that is why you circumcise even on a Sabbath. When a man receives circumcision on a Sabbath to prevent the Law of Moses from ‘being broken, how can you be angry with me for making a man sound and well on a Sabbath? Do not judge by appearances; judge justly.”

—John.

The Smile Worth While

‘Tis easy enough to be pleasant,
When life flows along like a song;
But the man worth while is the one who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong;
For the test of the heart is trouble.
And it always comes with the years;
And the smile that is worth the praise of the earth
Is the smile that comes through tears.

—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

The Wonderful World

Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world,
With the wonderful water round you curled,
And the wonderful grass upon your breast,
World, you are beautifully drest.

The wonderful air is over me,
And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree—
It walks on the water, and whirls the mills,
And talks to itself on the top of the hills.

You friendly Earth, how far do you go,
With the wheat-fields that nod, and the rivers that flow,
With cities and gardens and cliffs and isles,
And people upon you for thousands of miles?

Ah! you are so great, and I am so small,
I hardly can think of you, World, at all;
And yet, when I said my prayers to-day,
My mother kissed me, and said, quite gay,

“If the wonderful World is great to you,
And great to father and mother, too,
You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot!
You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!”

—W. B. Rands.

Donating A Thought

Instead of a gem or a flower, cast the gift of a lovely thought into the heart of a friend.

—George MacDonald.

Alternate Reading: Daniel 3.

Too Ready With Complaint

I think we are too ready with complaint
In this fair world of God’s. Had we no hope
Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope
Of yon gray blank of sky, we might be faint
To muse upon eternity’s constraint
Round our aspirant souls. But since the scope
Must widen early, is it well to droop
For a few days consumed in loss and taint?
O pusillanimous heart, be comforted,—
And like a cheerful traveler, take the road,
Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread
Be bitter in the inn, and thou unshod
To meet the flints?—At least it may be said,
“Because the way is short, I thank Thee, God!”

—Elizabeth B. Browning.

The Unceasing Upward Reaching Of The Soul

But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell,
And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire
And motion of the soul which will not dwell
In its own narrow being, but aspire
Beyond the fitting medium of desire.

—G. N. G. Byron.

As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee, O God.

—Psalms.

Alternate Reading: Psalms 25:1-10.

Jesus Advised By His Brothers

After this, Jesus went about in Galilee, for he would not do so in Judea, because the Jews were eager to put him to death. When the Jewish Festival of Tabernacles was near, his brothers said to him:

“Leave this part of the country, and go into Judea, so that your disciples, as well as we, may see the work that you are doing. For no one does a thing privately, if he is seeking to be widely known. Since you do these things, you should show yourself publicly to the world.”

For even his brothers did not believe in him.

“My time,” answered Jesus, “is not come yet, but your time is always here. The world cannot hate you, but it does hate me, because I testify that its ways are evil. Go yourselves up to the Festival; I am not going to this Festival yet, because my time has not yet come.”

After telling them this, he stayed on in Galilee.

But, when his brothers had gone up to the Festival, Jesus also went up—not publicly, but privately. The Jews were looking for him at the Festival and asking “Where is he?”; and there were many whispers about him among the people, some saying “He is a good man”; others: “No! he is leading the people astray.”

No one, however, spoke freely about him, for fear of the Jews.

—John.

Our Endless Obligation To Serve

Just imagine Jesus saying, “I have done my duty.” We cannot think it of Him. Not till He went to the cross could He say, “It is finished.” He demands more of us than that we should pay our subscriptions. Human duty cannot be kept by bookkeeping and the balancing of moral ledgers. We bear no burdens that we can ever lay down and say, “I have carried them long enough.”

—C. S. Macfarland.

Houses And Homes

The walls of a house may be builded of wood,
Its foundations, of brick or of stone;
But a genuine home is an exquisite thing,
For it’s builded of heart throbs alone.

The price of a house may be reckoned at once
And paid with a handful of gold;
But the price of a home very few can compute,
And that price they have never yet told.

The rooms of a house may be stately and grand,
Their adornment, a triumph of art;
But beauty of home is the final result
Of the toil of an unselfish heart.

A house may be burned, may be sold or exchanged,
Nor the loss of one’s peace interfere;
But the loss of a home—how it crushes the heart!
For our homes we all love and revere.

Of houses a man may possess many scores
Yet his poverty lead to despair;
But an honorable man in a home of his own,
Must be counted a true millionaire.

—J. H. Skiles.

Our Parents

God, your father, and your mother,—
They have each a share in you;
If you pay to both your parents
That respect which is their due,
Then together with your parents
God considers He doth dwell,
And by honoring your parents,
You do honor God as well.

—The Talmud.

Alternate Reading: Psalms 84.