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Three Dollars Worth of God

I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please. Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine. I don’t want enough of God to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not transformation. I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth. I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack. I would like to...

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Men may be subdued by the power of the law, and compelled to habituate themselves unto a strict source of duty, and being advantaged therein by a sedate natural constitution, desire of applause, self-righteousness, or superstition, may make a great appearance of holiness; but if the principle of what they do be only the commands of the law, they never tread one true step in the paths of it.

— John Owen

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