We had better know what we are about

When we pray, ‘Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,’ we had better know what we are about. He will not carry us to easy triumphs and gratifying successes; more probably He will set us to some task for God in the full intention that we shall fail, so that others, learning wisdom by our failure, may carry the good cause forward.

He may take us through loneliness, desertion by friends, apparent desertion even by God; that was the way Christ went to the Father. He may drive us into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. He may lead us from the Mount of Transfiguration (if He ever lets us climb it) to the hill that is called the Place of the Skull. For if we invoke Him it must be to help us in doing God’s will, not ours. We cannot call upon the Creator Spirit, by whose aid the world’s foundations first were laid in order to use omnipotence for the supply of our futile pleasures or the success of our futile plans.

If we invoke Him, we must be ready for the glorious pain of being caught by His power out of our petty orbit into the eternal purposes of the Almighty, in whose onward sweep our lives are as a speck of dust. The soul that is filled with the Spirit must have become purged of all pride or love of ease, all self-complacence and self-reliance; but that soul has found the only real dignity, the only lasting joy. Come then, Great Spirit, come. Convict the world; and convict my timid soul.

–William Temple (1881-1944)

If you want to mean the words more

James Keifer's brief online biography for former Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple (1881-1944) tells of an inspirational moment in a revival service:

In 1931, at the end of the Oxford Mission (what is known in many Protestant circles as a Revival Meeting), he led a congregation in the University Church, St Mary the Virgin, in the singing of the hymn, "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." Just before the last stanza, he stopped them and asked them to read the words to themselves. "Now," he said, if you mean them with all your heart, sing them as loud as you can. If you don't mean them at all, keep silent. If you mean them even a little and want to mean them more, sing them very softly." The organ played, and two thousand voices whispered:

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were an offering far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

For many who participated, it was a never-forgotten experience.

Jesus' spirit in me...

It is no good giving me a play like Hamlet or King Lear and telling me to write a play like that. Shakespeare could do it, I can't.

And it is no good showing me a life like the life of Jesus and telling me to live a life like that. Jesus could do it, I can't.

But if the genius of Shakespeare could come and live in me, then I could write plays like this. And if the Spirit could come into me, then I could live a life like His.

—William Temple (1881-1944), Archbishop of Canterbury

For the benefit of those...

The Church is the only society that exists
for the benefit of those who are not its members.

—Archbishop William Temple (1881-1941)

Lift Up Our Hearts

In the days of His earthly ministry, only those could speak to him who came where He was: if He was in Galilee, men could not find Him in Jerusalem; if He was in Jerusalem, men could not find Him in Galilee. His Ascension means that He is perfectly united with God; we are with Him wherever we are present to God; and that is everywhere and always. Because He is "in Heaven" He is everywhere on earth: because He is ascended, He is here now.

Our devotion is not to hold us by the empty tomb; it must lift up our hearts to heaven so that we too "in heart and mind thither ascend and with Him continually dwell": it must also send us forth into the world to do His will; and these are not two things, but one.

—Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple (1881-1941)

Humility

Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion of your own gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself at all.

—Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple (1881-1944)

The holy, infallible church

I believe in the holy, infallible church, of which I regret to say at present I am the only member.

—attributed to
Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple (1881-1944)

We had better know what we are about

When we pray, ‘Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,’ we had better know what we are about. He will not carry us to easy triumphs and gratifying successes; more probably He will set us to some task for God in the full intention that we shall fail, so that others, learning wisdom by our failure, may carry the good cause forward.

He may take us through loneliness, desertion by friends, apparent desertion even by God; that was the way Christ went to the Father. He may drive us into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil. He may lead us from the Mount of Transfiguration (if He ever lets us climb it) to the hill that is called the Place of the Skull. For if we invoke Him it must be to help us in doing God’s will, not ours. We cannot call upon the Creator Spirit, by whose aid the world’s foundations first were laid in order to use omnipotence for the supply of our futile pleasures or the success of our futile plans.

If we invoke Him, we must be ready for the glorious pain of being caught by His power out of our petty orbit into the eternal purposes of the Almighty, in whose onward sweep our lives are as a speck of dust. The soul that is filled with the Spirit must have become purged of all pride or love of ease, all self-complacence and self-reliance; but that soul has found the only real dignity, the only lasting joy. Come then, Great Spirit, come. Convict the world; and convict my timid soul.

–William Temple (1881-1944)