Enter a search term below. If searching by episode number be sure to include the comma, for example 4,707
Of all the plants that grow in this garden that is our life, none is hardier than peace.
Nations across the world teach their young to honor their elderly, but to those who look in the mirror and see an older person looking back at them, comes the question: Are you honoring yourself as you grow old?
Have you ever watched a young child at play? But is it really play? What we call play can be serious business to a child. Watch a child listening to the dial tone on a telephone or touching the prickly ends of a fir tree or catching snowflakes in gloved hands. These are simple things that we, as adults, take for granted. But, to the child, the sound, the feel, the sight is pure delight.
It is hard sometimes to understand why we must suffer in this life. A father watched his daughter play through the one-way glass of her nursery school window. He smiled, and like many of us, more than once he would reach for the doorknob, ready to rescue her from the dangers of discovery. However, his desire to protect her was tempered by the instinct of a loving father, who knows that scraped knees, tear-stained cheeks, and bruised feelings are sometimes part of the growth development.
Most people are generous in giving support to others during difficult times; but surprisingly, some are less generous with support and praise during the good times. Surely, we must mourn with those who mourn; but, just as surely, we ought to rejoice with those who rejoice.
There are two ways to look at life and the world. We can see the good or the bad, the beautiful or the ugly. Both are there, and what we focus on and choose to see is what brings us feelings of joy or feelings of despair. As a simple example, on a foggy day some people choose to complain about the inconvenience the fog causes, while others accept this occurrence of nature with anticipation for the beauty it brings. When it happens in a cold climate, the results are almost magical. As the fog lifts, it leaves moisture frozen to every branch on every Bush and tree, and the effect is breathtakingly beautiful. Or, in a warmer climate by the sea, as the fog rolls in there is a mystic feeling of suspense and wonder as ships come from out of nowhere or as a setting sun, diffused by the mist, becomes a huge, enchanted red ball in the sky. What we see and enjoy is up to us.
In times of privation and hunger, all people dream of feasts of tables piled with fruits and game of rich sauces and warm bread. Perhaps This is why metaphors of hunger and feasting are so frequently applied to spiritual matters. Those who “hunger and thirst after righteousness”1 are blessed; at the same time, we are urged to “feast upon the words of Christ.”2 As George Bernard Shaw put it: “No nation… can live without public-houses in which to seek refreshment… In the church alone can our need be truly met, so that the soul may open all its avenues of life to the holy air of… truth.”3 We must eat to sustain life and so God reminds us that we must similarly partake of his inspired words to sustain our spiritual lives.
A popular phrase today is “don't sweat the small stuff.” but, in fact, life is made-up of small stuff - little details that combine, like stitches in a tapestry, to make a work of art.
There is a great joy in knowing that God is watching over us, that He cares about us and wants us to be happy. Relying on this knowledge, we can call upon our caring Creator and significantly increase the peace and happiness we desire in life. As we reach out to Him in prayer, He is with us. This was demonstrated recently when a young couple expressed fears they had after a series of drive by shootings occurred in their city. The husband told how they became afraid to go anywhere, even to work, for fear of becoming a random target. He said their fears were completely dispelled and peace returned when they began praying specifically to be protected, even directed, from the path of such danger.
In his famous biography of Samuel Johnson, James Boswell quotes from a conversation between Johnson and a man named Oliver Edwards. Edwards makes the following observation: “I have tried too in my time to be a philosopher; but I don't know how, cheerfulness was always breaking in.”1
Among the resources we each possess; our time is the most precious and perishable. Each day ticking clocks and changing calendars, growing children and aging parents, remind us that life is fragile and fleeting. When we were children, it seemed like an endless processional of days would give us more than enough time to do everything; as adults, we realize that our limited time forces us to make important decisions and to create priorities. Still, too easily and too often we squander our time, forgetting that "time is the stuff of which life is made."1
The tight grip of every newborn’s hand is a tangible reminder of our need for each other. Physicians may call this the “grasp reflect,” but mothers and fathers know it as a baby’s tender clutch – the instinctive ability of a newborn to grab hold of a finger. The implications of this spontaneous grip are far reaching; we are born with the ability, even the need, to hold on to each other. Hand in hand we make our way through infancy and childhood; hand in hand we must make our way through life.
No matter who we are or where we come from, we all react to certain warning signs the same way. We all know to pull over when we hear a siren. None of us would ignore the shout of “Fire!” or a call for help. Likewise, we all know the symbol for poison.
How do we measure beauty? What is its essence, its substance, its reality? From the beginning of time, people have looked at landscapes and paintings and words and declared them “beautiful”; even while philosophers have asserted that beauty is something purely subjective, a quality that exists only in the eye of the beholder. And yet, year after year, people pack their belongings into cars and travel to parks and vistas, canyons and waterfalls, museums, and theaters to stare in wonder, to marvel together. At what? This thing we call beauty.
Were it not for trust, our society simply would not work. For, when we proceed from an assumption of mistrust, we become paralyzed by our doubts, by our cynicism, and suspicions. We end up wondering whom we can trust, in the whom we can confide, by whom we will be cared for.
What is the fascination we have with the coming of each new year? Is it not that we hope things will turn out better? There are so many improvements to wish for, but none so important and long lasting as what we can hope to accomplish in our own homes, families, and neighborhoods.
In Roman mythology, Janus is the god of beginnings, the deity responsible for the new year. As custodian of the universe, he holds sacred the first hour of the day, the first day of the month, and the first month of the year – January – which bears his name. He’s represented with two bearded heads set back-to-back – one looking at the past, the other looking ahead to the future.
Each spring the gray soil is turned over by green shoots of new life springing from what once seemed lifeless and dead. It is the fulfillment of our planning and our hope—an appropriate symbol of a greater promise, a poignant longing of the human spirit. Spring is the hope that, beyond the joy and struggles of this mortal life, there is a life that has been promised us—a life even more abundant, an immortal life of eternal spring to which no winter comes.
If a picture can be worth a thousand words, an example can be worth more than a textbook to a teacher. Every effective teacher knows and uses the power of comparisons, analogies, and examples to explain lessons. In fact, example is the best way to teach some principles, particularly in the vital area of human interaction and relationships. What does it mean to be kind, to be forgiving, to be steadfast, honest, true, to be a good neighbor? These and other lessons of life can best be learned by seeing them in action.
Life is a rhythm of change and permanence. First, change because we measure everything in mortal minutes, and time is constantly changing. Everything about us seems to be in a state of fluctuation.
There is something incomprehensible, unsettling, almost maddening about this earthly existence. Here we are, surrounded by measureless oceans of space and infinite eons of time, while all about us there are signs that this mortal life is only temporary.
“What greater gift does thou bestow... than Christlike friends, whose gentle ways strengthen our faith, enrich our days.”1
The prosperity in today's modern societies is unlike anything the world has seen before, Granted, there is still hunger and need in the world, but by and large in this country and in most modern civilizations luxury and extravagance are the rule, not the exception.
Love is the most quietly creative force in the universe. Babies grow up happily, adults achieve crowning glory, and small impressions are transformed into innovative ideas. Without it, infants turn to the wall and die, adults are broken and diminished, and thoughts are stillborn, never to be transferred to action. Love is a need so basic, in fact, that we spend most of our lives seeking it and finally judge ourselves on how much we think we're loved.
How blessed are they that dwell within the house of the Lord and praise his name forever.
As the hymn suggests, the goodness and love of Christ never fails, but tragic events in our lives are painful still. Sorrow comes to each of us, in one form or another, for one reason or another. Sometimes it is personal and individual. Sometimes, like the explosion of the space shuttle, a whole nation, indeed, a whole world, may grieve together.
Once this was a world where a deal could be closed by a handshake. Integrity meant being as good as your word. If one said the bill would arrive tomorrow, he’d walk if he had to, to deliver it. A promise was made to be kept.
Often, the windows of the world are covered with rain, but the promise of the Creator is that there will be sunny days. And, when they come, we must be ready and willing to take advantage of them.
Ours is the age of freedoms: Freedoms from want and fear, freedom of religion, of social rights, and civil liberties.
We have heard the Choir remind us of our need to seek the perfect peace of Christ; to know His teachings, to embrace eternal principles, to practice the spirit of Christianity.