For the lost, the searching, and the quietly curious


‘Continency is denial of the body, and confession to God. It withdraws from anything mortal, like a body which has the Spirit of God. It is without rivalry and envy, and causes us to be united to God.

He who loves a body envies another. He who has not admitted the disease of corruption into his heart, is for the future strong enough to endure any labour, and though he have died in the body, he lives in incorruption.

Verily, if I rightly apprehend the matter, God seems to me to be continency, because He desires nothing, but has all things in Himself. He reaches after nothing, nor has any sense in eyes or ears; wanting nothing, He is in all respects complete and full.

Concupiscence is a disease of the soul; but continency is its health. And continency must not be regarded only in one species, as, for instance, in matters of sensual love. It must be regarded in everything which the soul lusts after in an evil manner, not being content with what is needful for it. Envy is caused for the sake of gold, and innumerable wrongs for the sake of other lusts. Not to be drunken is continency. Not to overeat one’s self is continency. To subdue the body is continency, and to keep evil thoughts in subjection, whenever the soul is disturbed by any fancy false and bad, and the heart is distracted by vain cares.

Continency makes men free, being at once a medicine and a power, for it does not teach temperance; it gives it. Continency is a grace of God.’

St. Basil the Great

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This book isn’t just about shining a light on the cracks within the church—it’s about healing them. It challenges leaders and congregants alike to wrestle with tough questions:

Are we creating a space where people feel safe sharing their deepest struggles?

Do we offer meaningful support, or are we too caught up in appearances to notice the pain behind the smiles?

How can we make the church a place of radical love and transformation for everyone—not just those who fit neatly into its expectations?