The sickness of heart that is the lot of all, the loneliness that not even the voice of a friend can dispel, and the grief that seems to stop the pulse of life itself find their final meaning in this compulsion toward the divine. We are sometimes driven out not knowing whither we go, not knowing the purpose of it, but only knowing through sheer necessity that here we have no abiding city, or home, or life, or love, and seeking a city, a home, a life, a love that has foundations.
The Art of Being a Good Friend
Hugh Black
Category: TRANSCIENCE
-
-
It is always a temptation, which grows stronger the longer we live, to look back instead of forward, to bemoan the past, and thus deride the present and distrust the future. We must not forget our present blessings, the love we still possess, the gracious influences that remain, and, most of all, the duties that claim our strength.
The Art of Being a Good Friend
Hugh Black -
On the whole, however, it is not our own liability to death that oppresses us. The fear of it to a brave person, not to speak of a person of faith, can be overcome. It is the fear of it for others whom we love that is its sting. And none of us can live very long without knowing in our own heart’s experience the reality, as well as the terror, of death. This, too, has its meaning for us, to look at life more tenderly and touch it more gently. The pathos of life is only a forced sentiment to us if we have not felt the pity of life. To a sensitive soul, smarting with his own loss, the world sometimes seems full of graves and, for a time at least, makes him walk softly among others.
This is one reason why the making of new friends is so much easier in youth than later on. Friendship comes to youth seemingly without any conditions and without any fears. There is no past to look back at with much regret and some sorrow. We never look behind us until we miss something. Youth is satisfied with the joy of present possession. To the young, friendship comes as the glory of spring, a very miracle of beauty, a mystery of birth; to the old, it has the bloom of autumn, beautiful still, but with the beauty of decay. To the young, it is chiefly hope; to the old, it is mostly memory. The person who is conscious that he has lost the best of his days, the best of his powers, and the best of his friends naturally lives a good deal in the past.
The Art of Being a Good Friend
Hugh Black -
For one thing, it must mean the hallowing of memory. The eclipse of love makes the love fairer when the eclipse passes. The loss of the outward purifies the affection and softens the heart. It brings out into fact what was often only latent in feeling. Memory adds a tender glory to the past. We think of only the virtues of the dead; we forget their faults. This is as it should be. We rightly love the immortal part of them; the fire has burned up the dross and left pure gold. If it is idealization, it represents that which will be, and that which really is.
We do not ask to forget; we do not want the so-called consolations that time brings. Such an insult to the past, as forgetfulness would be, means that we have not risen to the possibilities of communion of spirit afforded us in the present. We would rather that the wound should be ever fresh than that the image of the dear past should fade. It would be a loss to our best life if it would fade. There is no sting in such a faith. Such remembrance as this, which keeps the heart green, will not cumber the life. True sentiment does not weaken, but becomes an inspiration to make our life worthy of our love. It can save even a squalid lot from sordidness; for however poor we may be in the world’s goods, we are rich in happy associations in the past, and in sweet communion in the present, and in blessed hope for the future.
The Art of Being a Good Friend
Hugh Black -
This transient life is cherished by every man whose way of life is corrupt; and second to him is the man deprived of knowledge. Well has one said, ‘The fear of death distresses a man with a guilty conscience but the man with a good witness within himself longs for death as for life.’
The Ascetical Homilies of Isaac the Syrian
-
The desire for a woman, or another sordid pleasure, we shall not merely control—rather, we shall turn from it as something transitory, forever doing battle and looking toward the day of judgment. For the larger fear and dread of the torments always destroys pleasure’s smooth allure, and rouses the declining soul.
—Athanasius, The Life of Antony
-
on monasticism
“Fine. Go, say your last goodbyes to your mother and family.” But ah, not one was able to say a last goodbye to his mother and peel himself away from her bosom again! That last goodbye will remain fastened to your mind even until your beard greys. But if you were able to leave the world without a last parting greeting to anyone, then the call of Christ will be able to gain you even while in the world. And every time the world comes to mind, you will remember your severance from it, as though by the clean cut of a knife.
—Matthew the Poor, Words For Our Time: The Spiritual Words of Matthew the Poor
SO GOOD QUOTES 