Hans Küng, On Being a Christian (1974), p. 119.

The word ‘Christian’ today is more of a soporific than a slogan. So much—too much—is Christian: churches, schools, political parties, cultural associations, and of course Europe, the West, the Middle Ages, to say nothing of the ‘Most Christian King’—a title conferred by Rome where, incidentally, they prefer other attributes (‘Roman’, ‘Catholic’, ‘Roman Catholic’, ‘ecclesiastical’, ‘holy’) which they can then, without more ado, simply equate with ‘Christian’. [However,] inflation of the concept of ‘Christian’ leads like all inflation to devaluation.

Aiden Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy, Ch. 19. [PDF]

To ‘abound’ in sin: that is the worst and the most we could or can do. The word ‘abound’ defines the limit of our finite abilities; and although we feel our iniquities rise over us like a mountain, the mountain nevertheless has definable boundaries. It is only so large, only so high, it weighs only this certain amount and no more. But who shall define the limitless grace of God? Its “much more” plunges our thoughts into infinitude and confounds them there. All thanks be to God for grace abounding. We who feel ourselves alienated from the fellowship of God can now raise our discouraged heads and look up. Through the virtues of Christ’s atoning death, the cause of our banishment has been removed. We may return as the Prodigal returned and be welcome.

Arthur Pink, Gleanings in the Godhead, Chapter 33.

Few things are so distasteful to the proud human heart as the truth that God does as he pleases, without consulting with the creature; that he dispenses his favours entirely according to his imperial will. Fallen man has no claims upon him, is destitute of any merit, and can do nothing whatever to win God’s esteem. Fallen man is a spiritual pauper, entirely dependent upon divine charity. In bestowing his mercies, God is regulated by nothing but his own good pleasure. “Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own?” (Matthew 20:15) is his unanswerable challenge. Yet, as the context shows, man wickedly murmurs against this.

Dennis Prager, Ultimate Issues (Jul–Sep. 1989)

When I meet someone who claims to find faith in God impossible but who persists in believing in the essential goodness of humanity, I know that I have met a person for whom evidence is irrelevant.

Michael Horton, The Gospel-Driven Life, pg. 34

If the concept of the modern self was that of a master of all it surveyed, the postmodern self is best described as a tourist. There is no destination; just personal journeys from nowhere to nowhere in particular.

‘Twas the night before Jesus came, and all through the house
Not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without a care
In hopes that Jesus would not come there.

The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head.
And mom in her rocker with baby on her lap
Was watching the Late Show while I took a nap.

When out of the east there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray
I knew in a moment this must be The Day!

The light of his face made me cover my head.
It was Jesus, returning just like he had said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.

In the Book of Life, which he held in his hand,
Was written the name of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as he searched for my name.
When He said, “It’s not here,” my head hung in shame.

The people whose names had been written with love
He gathered to take to his Father above.
With those who were ready, he rose without a sound,
While all the rest were left standing around.

I fell to my knees, but it was too late;
I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight.
Oh if only I had been ready tonight.

In the words of this poem the meaning is clear;
The coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There’s only one life and, when comes the last call,
We’ll find that the Bible was true after all.

— Audrey Patricia Woolverton

Chefranden, 28 November 2009 [link]

“The answer to your question is that humans are not rational beings. We are emotional beings with a relatively weak rational capacity. This rational capacity is most easily used for rationalization rather than reasoning.”

[Quoted for truth! Sorry, I realize this fellow is not a notable figure but that quote was too good to pass up.]