clippings from weavings
 
over the last couple of days, which have been delightfully lazy, i have been leafing through the latest copy of weavings. weavings is a penetrating 'journal of the christian spiritual life' that neal windham introduced me to (he also provided us with a gift subscription, which was nice). the latest edition focuses on gentleness, a fruit of the spirit which is rarely attested to in my life. for obvious reasons, i found the first statement quite convicting. the other two passages are provided for good measure.
 
"the word gentle itself bespeaks a similar rootedness in what we all share. from the latin gens, it reminds us of our common humanity--that we are a people, a race, made from this earth that sustains us all. in the middle ages, the word came to refer to the gentry: a gentleman was one who had land, family, money and power, and for that reason owed protection and care to the unentitled. an idea honored in the breach more than the observance, perhaps, but there is something in the notion of noblesse oblige--the obligations of the gentry to the poor entrusted to their generosity--that applies to any of us who have been especially blessed. to be gentle is to be generous (as the common etymology makes quite clear) and to extend thanksgiving to God and hospitality to the poor as we are able." ~Marilyn Chandler McEntyre in "A Gentle Word"
 
The Prayer of Saint Francis
 
Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace;
 
     where there is hatred, let me sow love;
 
     where there is injury, pardon;
    
     where there is doubt, faith;
 
     where there is despair, hope;
 
     where there is darkness, light;
 
     and where there is sadness, joy.
 
Grant that i may not so much seek,
    
     to be consoled as to console;
 
     to be understood as to understand;
 
     to be love as to love;
 
     for it is in giving that we receive,
 
     it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
 
     and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
 
"Reading is the soul's food, light, lamp, refuge, consolation, and the spice of every spiritual savor. It feeds the hungry, it illumines the person sitting in the darkness; to refugees from shipwreck or war it comes with bread. It comforts the contrite heart, it contains the passions of the body with the hope of reward. When temptations attack, it counters them with the teaching and examples of the saints...In the bread box of sacred reading are breads baked in an oven, breads roasted on a grill, or cooked in a frying pan, breads made with the first fruits and sprinkled with oil, and barley cakes. So, when this table is approached by people from any walk of life, age, sex, status or ability, they will all be filled with the refreshment that suits them." ~Peter of Selle, Selected Works