In a Dark Wood: Journeys of Faith and Doubt

Priekinis viršelis
Linda Jones, Sophie Stanes
Fortress Press, 2003-12-01 - 218 psl.
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Doubt is as natural an experience as faith and what theologian Paul Tillich called an indispensable component of authentic faith. In this book an extraordinary range of writers talks about the moment-often devastating-when they turned to God only to find neither God's presence nor consolation. Where once silence was filled with peace, now that silence signals only emptiness. In a Dark Wood features a diverse group of voices describing unlikely and often moving journeys toward or away from faith-Protestants, Catholics, and Jews; laypeople and religious professionals; activists, poets, politicians, and ordinary people. In addition, dozens of readings, poems, and prayers reflect on belief and doubt, on the loss of faith and its rediscovery, from the Psalmists, medieval saints, and such luminaries as W. B. Yeats and T. S. Eliot, James Baldwin and Joseph Heller, Maya Angelou and Isabel Allende, Henri Nouwen and Walter Brueggemann, Nelson Mandela and Daniel Berrigan.

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Turinys

Jane Harvey
19
Loydell
39
Sr Petra Boex
61
Christopher Hall
75
Colin Parry
91
Chris Cole
113
viji Part Three The Phoenix of Faith
119
Acknowledgments
209
Index of Authors
217
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Populiarios ištraukos

13 psl. - THE sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; — on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
72 psl. - The hand that rounded Peter's dome And groined the aisles of Christian Rome Wrought in a sad sincerity; Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew; — The conscious stone to beauty grew.
97 psl. - If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again.
199 psl. - Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped : All I could never be, All men ignored in me, This I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.
27 psl. - I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
53 psl. - THE ROAD NOT TAKEN Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth...
73 psl. - The word unto the prophet spoken Was writ on tables yet unbroken; The word by seers or sibyls told, In groves of oak, or fanes of gold, Still floats upon the morning wind, Still whispers to the willing mind. One accent of the Holy Ghost The heedless world hath never lost.
10 psl. - About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters: how well they understood Its human position; how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along...
72 psl. - Earth proudly wears the Parthenon, As the best gem upon her zone, And Morning opes with haste her lids To gaze upon the Pyramids; O'er England's abbeys bends the sky, As on its friends, with kindred eye ; For out of Thought's interior sphere These wonders rose to upper air; And Nature gladly gave them place, Adopted them into her race, And granted them an equal date With Andes and with Ararat.

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