For God is n[either] destitute [nor stingy], having, for his [own] glory, made you, too, a god.

Source

οὐ γὰρ πτωκεύει θεὸς καὶ σὲ θεὸν ποιήσας εἰς δόξαν αὐτοῦ.

     St. Hippolytus (c. 170-c. 236), Refutatio omnium haeresium X.33, translation mine.  Greek from Hippolytus Werke, vol. 3 =GCS, ed. H. Achelis and G. Bonwetsch, vol. 26, ed. Paul Wendland (1916), p. 293, line 15.  Immediate context:  creation in and restoration to the imago Dei.  A few additional translations of this sentence, of "much concern to commentators" (F. Legge):

• Liturgy of the hours:  "God is not beggarly, and for the sake of his own glory he has given us a share in his divinity."  According to the Oxford Latin dictionary, mendicus can mean both "destitute," and "beggarly" or "mean" (stingy).  But that latter sense is not given prominence in the Greek lexica, just for example the Patristic Greek lexicon.
• M. David Litwa, 2015:  "God is not poor; for his glory, he makes you also a god!"
• F. Legge, 1921:  "For God asks no alms, and has made thee God for His own glory."
• J. H. MacMahon, ANF 5:  "For the Deity, (by condescension,) does not diminish aught of the divinity of His divine perfection; having made thee even God unto His glory!"

Sehnsucht

Quebec City & the St. Lawrence River, 1722

"'I wish you and I could go very far up the river in Pierre Charron’s canoe, and then off into the forests to the Huron country, and find the very places where the martyrs died.  I would rather go out there than — anywhere.'  Rather than go home to France, she was thinking.
     "But perhaps, after she grew up, she could come back to Canada again, and do all those things she longed to do.  Perhaps some day, after weeks at sea, she would find herself gliding along the shore of the Îsle d’Orléans and would see before her Kebec, just she had left it; the grey roofs and spires smothered in autumn gold, with the Récollect flèche rising slender and pure against the evening, and the crimson afterglow welling up out of the forest like a glorious memory."

     Cécile Auclair to little Jacques Gaux, in Willa Cather's Shadows on the rock (1931) V.iv =Library of America edition, p. 612, underscoring mine.  Cécile and her father, the apothecary Euclid Auclair, will not return to France after all.  But Cécile has been told that they will, and is here preparing to say goodbye to the New France of a very happy childhood, and its people.

"But please, my brothers and sisters, forget and ignore this controversial and apparently blasphemous Declaration, in its entirety, and have a peaceful Christmas. Amen."

     Bishop Martin Anwel Mtumbuka, Homily, Christmas Vigil, St. Anne’s Parish, Chilumba Deanery, Diocese of Karonga, Malawi, 24 December 2023.  Mtumbuka does get the document wrong, but in a way that actually gives it more credit than it is due.

"no sun yet, but a bright rain-grey light, silver and cut steel and pearl on the grey roofs and walls"

"Everything was glittering when they stepped out [of Notre Dame de la Victoire] into the square; no sun yet, but a bright rain-grey light, silver and cut steel and pearl on the grey roofs and walls.  Long veils of smoky fog were caught in the pine forests across the river.  And how fresh the air smelled!"

     Willa Cather, Shadows on the rock (1931) II.iii =Library of American edition, p. 508, a novel of Catholic Quebec set in 1697-1698.  This admittedly 21st-century image of Notre Dame de la Victoire captures almost perfectly the picture these lovely words painted in my mind.

"What indeed has Athens to do with Jerusalem?"

National Endowment for the Humanities

"I think [Athens and Jerusalem] are ultimately not compatible, if you rightly distinguish the two points of departure: wonder seeking its replacement by knowledge, which makes the perplexities go away, on the side of Athens, versus, on the side of Jerusalem, the fear or reverence for the Lord, which is only the beginning of wisdom but which is never superseded by a kind of full understanding or by comfort in the sufficiency of one’s own powers. The spirit of these two points of departure is very different. Moreover, the wisdom of Jerusalem makes extraordinary demands on how you are to live. What begins with the fear and reverence of the Lord soon issues in a long list of commandments about how to live your life. By contrast, the pursuit of wisdom in the manner of Plato and Aristotle, following the model of Socrates, produces no obligations to community or family, and it seems that the highest kind of life is a private life of self-fulfillment through the pursuit of wisdom and reflection. That is a very different view of the good life from the one that is held up by the bible, i.e. the life in community in pursuit of justice, holiness, and love of the neighbor. . . .  these two wisdoms are at odds with one another; the demands they make upon us are not easily harmonized. . . .
     "The statement 'The unexamined life is not worth living' (the Socratic model, if you will) is very different from 'it has been shown to you, o man, what the Lord doth require of you.' . . .  [F]rom a biblical point of view the answer to the question of what is the human good is not an object of one of the human sciences, to be found by our own lights. In fact the bible in part begins by holding up a mirror in which we see the insufficiency of our intellect and the muteness of that upon which we exercise our mind (mainly the natural world and the world of our experience) for giving the proper instruction with respect to the human good. For years and years and years, I read that passage in Aristotle and used to say, 'of course, it’s an object of inquiry,' but the way of the bible does not say that how to live your life is an object of inquiry. . . .  [T]here is something radically different between a view of life in which nothing is immune to critical examination and a view of life that makes demands in both truth and practice, which you don’t regard as the fruits of an inquiry."

     Leon Kass, "Athens, Jerusalem, and modern science:  an interview with Leon Kass, Amy Apfel Kass, and Francis Oakley," The cresset:  a review of literature, the arts, and public affairs 72, no. 1 (Michaelmas 2008):  27-33.  Headline from, of course, Tertullian, Prescription against heretics 7.

Gratia non tollit naturam

"What is the meaning of the double proclamation of  'My father, my father'? Furthermore, why refer to Elijah as a parental figure? Elisha was implying that to him, Elijah filled the dual parental role. The Zohar comments on the concepts of Musar Avikha and Torat Imekha (Proverbs 1:8), that 'father’s instruction' represents the Written Law, while 'mother’s Torah' symbolizes the Oral Law. However, 'Written Law' (Torah she-bikhtav) is not be taken literally in the sense of the actual written text, but rather as that which can be reduced to writing. Torah she-ba’al Peh, however, must be absorbed through experience, not through a written record. Both the code of Sinai and the fire of Sinai must be transmitted. Fire serves three functions: to illuminate, to heat, and to consume. But the fire of Sinai only contained the first two characteristics: A child must understand that the fire of Sinai, like that at the burning bush, never consumes. It is the role of a father to transmit this voice of Sinai. On the other hand, according to tradition, God addressed the women first (Rashi to Exodus 19:3). While a father instructs halakhot and rebukes the wayward child, it is the motherly figure who serves to inspire. This is Torat Imekha which took precedent at Sinaiָ, corresponds to the oral Law, and cannot be written down."

     Rabbi Ahron Soloveichik, as quoted (?) here, underscoring mine.  I was put onto this by his grandson, Rabbi Meier Soloveichik, in this tribute to Robert P. George.

"by the message of an angel"

Fra Angelico, Museo Diocesano, Cortona, Italy.

"Pour forth, we beseech you, O Lord, your grace into our hearts, that we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ your Son was made known by the message of an Angel, may by his Passion and Cross be brought to the glory of his Resurrection.  Who."

     Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Advent, current Roman Missal, and of course the prayer with which the Angelus concludes.  Bruylants, vol. 2, no. 575 on pp. 156-157 =Corpus orationum no. ___, and thus present (for the Feast of the Annunciation) already as no. 879 in the 8th/9th-century Gelasian sacramentary of Angoulême (Paris, B.N. ms lat. 816).  Cf. CCSL 159C, Liber sacramentorum Engolismensis, ed. Saint-Roche (1987), p. 131:

"Gratiam tuam quaesumus Domine mentibus nostris infunde, ut qui angelo nuntiante Christi filii tui incarnationem cognouimus, per passionem eius [et crucem] ad resurrectionis gloriam perducamur.  Per."