#a good church talks about the cross when they talk about the manger

[realmeganamram]

NEPO BABY

Hey, guys! There’s been a lot of discussion going on lately and I just wanted to clear the air. I totally understand that people think I got my job because of my dad, but I definitely would have still been the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ even if my dad wasn’t God. Everyone says I would have been the Son of God even if I weren’t the son of God.

Just because my dad is famous, it doesn’t mean I don’t have merits of my own. I am a very good listener, and nice, and I have a bag that has seven million fish in it. I’m pretty embarrassed by D-d—I don’t even really like telling people my last name. When people find out that my last name is Of Nazareth, it just shuts down any conversation. How do they know it’s the same Of Nazareth? What if my dad was, like, Bill Of Nazareth, just, like, a guy with a truck and a snake? Not everyone in my family is famous. What about my mom? She’s a prude and a nobody! Her last name, Mary, isn’t well known at all! Her last name is Mary and her first name is Virgin.

You have no idea—it actually really sucks to have a famous parent. No one believes that I healed those lepers on my own. But now we’ll never know if I could have cured leprosy without the leg up my dad gave me, which is that I am magic and have the gorgeous hair of a horse you hope breeds with all the other horses. Sure, I got all this myrrh as a kid, but that myrrh lasts you only so long. And then you have to work for your own myrrh. And I worked for every inch of myrrh I ever got. Every cubic centimetre of myrrh. Every cup of it. What is myrrh?

I toiled really hard to get where I am. I went to four years of carpenter school. And, no, I don’t have student loans, because, yes, my dad invented wood, but it was still hard. I have hammered my thumbs so many times. One time, I even drove a nail all the way through my hand. It hurt so bad, and I was, like, I hope that never happens again, but then it did! I totally acknowledge my privilege, but let’s not act like other people don’t have privilege, too. I can turn water into wine, but my buddy Eric can turn water into piss. Why aren’t people obsessed with Eric’s dad?

I started from the bottom—I was born and immediately put in a manger. You’d imagine that soft hay would be in there, but no. Do you know what was in there? Four scorpions. Worse than a normal bed. I don’t even technically have my own birthday! I share it with Santa, which is antisemitic.

I’m a really good sport about things. Every time I walk into a Catholic church, there’s a good chance I’ll see myself on the Cross, being crucified. Obsessed with me much? And everyone is obsessed with drinking my blood and eating my body. It makes me feel faint. We have to talk about something else before I fall off this horse. And, before you comment about my having a fancy horse, just know that a lot of people’s dads make them horses for their sixteenth birthday.

I don’t want anyone to feel too sorry for me, but the nepo-baby thing makes me really insecure. People are just so ready to tear you down and say, “You don’t even deserve to have a really popular book about you.” I struggled with impostor syndrome for so long, but then I was able to cure it, because I can cure any disease, because I am magic, because of my dad.

All I can hope for is that, by keeping my head down and just doing the work, my legacy will finally be separate from D-d’s. At the end of my career as the Lamb of God, no one is going to think about my dad. They’ll just be, like, That’s some guy who is a really hard worker and always has, like, a hundred loaves of bread with him for some reason.

Ultimately, it boils down to talent. And I will rest easy knowing that the haters are just jealous. But I will love them anyway. Because I am the most humble person of all time.

[greatapostasy]

Savior in the manger and modern man – Catholic during the Great Apostasy

We are all talking about neo-paganism, Satan’s clear struggle against God. We want earnestly to help good to win, but we cling to false methods: instead of starting with oneself, with grounding oneself in humility, with emptying one’s self, as St. John of the Cross did, following the example of the Divine Child. John of the Cross, when he was reforming the Order, we start and… end our spirited work with the utterance of a few sentences full of indignation, trepidation, warning, against those who hound the world, or, at best, we end our work with proclamations and gathering signatures. And evil spreads and Satan gathers triumphs more and more, because we lack the chosen children of the church, humility.

This one thing was needed for the salvation of men, and therefore the Savior was born as a humble, weak Child, – this is also what is needed most today, because we by other means cannot apostolize as Christ did.

[bcbdrums]

Drakgo in December! #28

Read on:  FFn     AO3

------------------------------

28. Bells

December 25, 2006

"Church?" Shego asked for the third time as she stood with arms crossed, leaning against the sideboard in the hall.

"For the last time, it will make Mother happy," Drakken hissed, glancing around for the red-haired woman as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. "Please, Shego, it's been a perfect Christmas!"

He was gone again, off to find a glove which had somehow been lost and that he'd been searching for for the last half hour, while Shego had been ready to brave the elements despite wanting to stay curled up with him on the sofa. Or perhaps escape back to his bedroom upstairs. But, it was a day of traditions, after all.

She had never been to a church. Or at least if she had, it was before the comet and she had no memory of it. She had a feeling of unease about the whole thing, even though she had no idea what to expect. Just something inside of her told her she couldn't possibly belong.

"You sure they won't burn me at the stake?" Shego hissed when Drakken rushed by again.

His only response was to roll his eyes as he continued his frantic search, and Shego shook her head. But she straightened abruptly in the next moment as Mama Lipsky entered the hall.

"Oh, be careful dear! The Nativity scene," the older woman said, and Shego turned to see that her hair had knocked over a tiny donkey figurine among the decorations on the sideboard.

She watched as Mama Lipsky rearranged all of the small figures just slightly, lingering on the manger with the baby.

"I used to scold Drew for playing with all of the decorations when he was a boy," the woman said. "Oh, I do miss the sound of a child playing around the house!"

Shego lifted a single brow as Mama Lipsky turned and looked at her, holding the manger for a moment before setting it back in the scene. Before Shego could quite figure out what was in the woman's head, she'd started toward the door where Drakken was buttoning his coat.

"Oh Drew, you left your glove in the living room," she said, waving the missing item. "And don't make that face, it's not very attractive."

Shego smirked as Drakken plastered on a grin after his grimace and took the offered glove.

"Th-Thank you, Mother! Shego...ready to go?" he asked hesitantly, keeping the forced smile.

She didn't say a word, but nodded and joined the family by the door.

There was a different feeling in the icy air that morning, Shego couldn't help but acknowledge, as they entered the courtyard of the old New England church. People were more cheerful, the conversations all bright and bubbly as she watched people hugging each other and children laughing as they played in the snow. But all of that was eclipsed in a moment as the sound of just a few bells that had beckoned them for miles on their walk grew into a cacophony.

Shego paused, and her eyes traveled up the stone tower that contained the source of the sound. It was powerful and beautiful, seeming to speak words that were in a secret language that one would need the key to understand. Or perhaps a lifetime.

"Oh, that one's pretty too," the voice of Mama Lipsky pulled Shego's attention back to ground level, and she followed the woman's pointing to a life-size Nativity scene in the snow on the church lawn. Some children were playing nearby and one had climbed on the back of one of the cows. Shego watched as the child's mother pulled him away and quietly scolded him, by her expression.

Drakken leaned over to Shego and whispered in her ear, "Eddie tried that once."

Shego snorted, but before she could comment Mama Lipsky was talking again.

"They did such a good job on that figure of the baby Jesus. Oh, it reminds me of when Drew was a baby! It would be so nice to have a baby around the house again...don't you agree, Shego?"

"L-Let's hurry inside Mother," Drakken said, rushing around to grab the woman's arm and usher her forward through the snow. "We want to make sure to get good seats!"

Shego was blinking and attempting to process what had just happened, but before she could do so there was suddenly a little girl standing in front of her, smiling. She took a breath to speak, though she wasn't sure what to say. However the child spoke first.

"You're green!" the girl exclaimed, a broad, innocent smile on her face.

"Yeah," was all Shego managed. She was several years out of practice of interacting with kids.

"Green's my favorite color!" the girl said, and then skipped away. It was only then that Shego noticed the dark green coat the girl was wearing.

She watched as the child clearly said something to her mother about her, pointing back. Shego was blank-faced when the woman smiled at her almost apologetically before turning and leading her daughter toward the building.

"Shego!"

She startled at Drakken's voice and turned as he grabbed her hand.

"It's crowded, we need to find seats together," he continued as he pulled her along to where Mama Lipsky was waving next to the door.

Shego glanced up again at the tower as the bells continued to ring out their secret message that beckoned, and felt some of her disquiet fade. It was Christmas day. It had been wonderful from the moment she woke to the smell of mulled cider in the kitchen, and for every moment after. There was no reason that should change.

She quickened her step to catch up to Drakken and placed a brief kiss on his chilled cheek. He grinned at her as he blushed, and then he leaned down to whisper.

"And don't worry, just ignore my mother's hints," he said.

"...What?"

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 30 August 1839

6 ¾

12 5/..

fine morning but dullish and windy. F59 ½° at 7 ½ am poor A- complained of pain last night left shoulder – bad – regular rheumatism – tied a woollen stocking round it this morning – breakfast at 8 ½ and over at 8 50/.. – very comfortable here – everything good and abundant – coffee particularly good – perhaps the best we  have had in Sweden – sent off forbud last night that we might be able to reach Falun in good time without hurrying off this morning – the morning was sunny between 6 and 7 and finer than now – off at 9 33/.. – very near at 10 (1/2 mile from O-) at top of hill fine view over wide expanse of country and Nasbysjö [Näsbysjön ](Naseby shoo) fine large peninsular – parted inland lake the extreme distance everywhere shut in by dark pine forest – the white steeple of our church at Ōvanssö seen distinctly scattered hamlets and farms as far as one can see – literally the North of Sweden seems more popular than the south parts that we have seen, and more foresty and laky and pretty and picturesque? off again in 7 minutes at 10 5/.. – nice drive – forest begins here at the point de vue – at Solberga at 11 10/.. forest almost all the way – with scattered hamlets a little solitary farms and barns good whitewashed church and scatted village at a little distance from our station small neat looking place with 2 or 3 cottages near – the [wintery] north of Upsala [Uppsala] more picturesque and better farmed than before – here at Solberga we are near pine wooded (forest) ranges of hill – much of the round-like moss on the stone today in the forest on boulder stone lying along the road sides – 1st observed in the foresty in the afternoon as we drove from Österby (Dannemora) on Wednesday Limpa broad that I like so much Hops (and [?] [?] as common in Sweden) (today and yesterday) – today Rye looking well – 3in. out of the ground – beautiful drive these 2 miles – (at 1 29/..) to Rörshylta [Rörshyttan]  as spelt at the station – forest and break and fine wooded hill and hamlets, farms and cottages – beautiful lake (left) soon after the station – there at 12 ¾

August Friday 30 to 2 10/.. we cotoyent (right) large wooded islandy, indented very beautiful lake (Greenshaw lake) to the village of Shăr-ran-soōn – baron Strom-sturn has a large and iron forge here white chateau and here (left) a higher water like a broad river soon extending (left) into another pretty lake that supplies the mills (forge wheels) good picturesque scattered village – nice little church – white splashed and red village – the other villages dark red-smeared with white window frames as usual – waited to write the above and en route again now at 1 42/.. – Lake (right) and forest-hilly – foresty laky and lovely today – wrote this as we walk our horses up a hill rocky forest – this stage hilly – sunny and fine since about noon or rather after till about 2 then dull but fair – beautiful drive to Smedby at 3 – hilly and sandy and heavy – much rain has lately fallen on the road – Smedby very picturesque scattered good village – large handsome whitewashed church – picturesque  nice little red station house – might sleep here and at the last station for both look tidy – good clean farming and land well cleared of stones – corn about ½ housed and about ½ in stook and some(yet to cut) – no wheat – rye almost all housed – chiefly oats and barley out and chiefly oats to cut – large herd of cows 1st stage go to a fair chiefly white (little) cows – worth about 30 rigs. dollars a piece – off again at 3 – had entered Dalecarlia about ¼ hour before Smedby – beautiful drive from there – these wooded hills of Dalecarlia very beautiful the dark pine relived by the light birch – much birch here – floating bridge just out of Smedby – and at 3 ¾ toll gate and broad river to cross by another float – bridge just below the gate where the toll 2sk. B. as before was for the bridge – bridge about 6 yards wide and 40 or 50 long? beautiful view on both sides the bridge – the station house at Uppbo neat but small close to the northern end of the bridge – the view  from this bridge next in beauty to Swine [?] [ferry] 1er on West End – off again at 4 and soon after sunny again – beautiful drive – hilly – forest, and 2 or 3 little lakes, and fine valley – difficult to say which stage today most beautiful always excepting the fine lake Here Strand at 5 13/.. – the clocks later – the horses ordered for

SH:7/ML/TR/13/0017

August Friday 30 5 ½ and not come my watch ¼ too late at the last stage – nice enough station house here – could sleep very well – alighted and writing very comfortably in a room upstairs – It was near here Strand (scattered village station house standing quite at one end) that Gustavus Wasa [Vasa] was concealed when nearly discovered by the Dane – what a beautiful picturesque might be made of the lake and wooded hills and fine vale as a background to the cottage and Gustaf Wasa [Vasa] – beautiful sunny evening now at 5 35/.. and beautiful sunset – beautiful drive great part of the way thro’ forest – more Scotch than Spruce – beautiful lake (let) up to the river at Falun – exactly ½ way at 6 35/.. a copper fonderie, the 1st we have seen – another in about ½ hour and then a 3rd in about ¼ hour  more – good handsome looking brick church – and large place and large whitewashed town hall forming a great part of one side of it – then cross the river over long wooden bridge and alight at our Inn at 8 40/.. – 2 good bedrooms – mine opening into a large very good salle à manger – we are in clover – writing till supper now at 9 35/.. fried little fish and veal cutlets and little pancakes, all very good – then coffee and sat talking till now 10 35/.. – fine day – F60 ¼° at 11 pm

[quatschmachen]

Bitchumen

A nice heartwarming sort of xmas fic. Phone call takes place in 2000, the xmas in 1999.

Edward rants to someone about something.

XXX “Right, like you can actually understand what’s going on.” The sarcasm dripped thick like bitumen from Edward’s tongue, the sticky anger clinging to every surface.“You treating me with the polite decency of a stranger doesn’t actually make you a good person, Calvin – it doesn’t even make you a friend.”

Blowing a breath out, Edward rubbed his face, his shoulders stuck between wanting to spike up in stiff defense or simply drop down in defeat.

“Which is why you get the couch,” here his arms crossed, brooking no argument, “I don’t even know why you thought it was going to be fine just showing up, months after being an asshole thinking I would even put you up. I just know Edith would have you out on your ass, and honestly you’re lucky you got me when I was even in town. Hold on… Mr. Big Shot, you have enough money to get a fucking hotel room, why the shit am I even considering you to stay here with me? Why the hell am I not throwing you out on your ass?”

Another breath out, and Edward sighed, “No, this won’t do.”

With a slump, he plopped onto the couch, and glanced around his small living room, wondering why the hell he was even practicing this as a conversation. Calvin hadn’t dropped by in months. It wasn’t like he was going to any time soon. The lines had been clearly drawn, and even an entitled oil cowboy wasn’t going to pretend everything hadn’t changed.Apparently the weeks off were just giving him time to go crazy. Usually this would be the time he would jet off to Montreal, but instead he was stuck in his house losing it. He was worried if he showed up on Étienne’s doorstep he would just start crying. Definitely not a thing to do.

His thoughts were disrupted as the telephone began to ring. With a sigh, he rolled off the couch and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Eddy!” Étienne’s voice rang out through the phone and wrapped around him like a warm hug.

“’Tienne,” Edward breathed out, automatically relaxing, he flomped down into the seat beside the telephone.

“I’ve been calling for weeks and thought you had died,” he joked, but the edge of worry was still there.

“Sort of had.” Edward murmured, “Actually I sort of moved out, I guess. Mac came down in January and I ended up moving north with him and picked up a hitch. Just got off and am laying around at home too dead to do anything.”

“Hitch?”

“Uhm working in the oil patch. Living at camp, pretty much isolated from the world…”

“Surrounded by big burly men? You could have at least sent me a postcard, Eddy,” Étienne teased, but there was an underlying tone Edward had difficulty deciphering, “I was thinking if it was my turn to come pull you out of the swamp of misery.”

“I guess I could have but… to be honest it all sort of just happened?” Edward sighed, “And once I was up in Fort Mac, and then out working, it’s difficult to really communicate. Just work till you drop, then into the camp to exercise or watch porn.”

“What? They actually supply porn?”

“And sometimes even prostitutes, but that’s apparently not truly allowed…” Edward paused, “but unfortunately no prostitutes were of interest to me.”

“How unfortunate. I was up to my eyeballs with inconvenient work,” Étienne paused, “Christmas was about the same as always, Suzette passes along her best wishes. The food was divine, and I ended up losing an arm-wrestling match to Élyse.”

Edward laughed, “What were the stakes?”

“Hmmm, well she got to eat my slice of cake; it was some terrible cake Samuel had made – yes I know, please believe me when I say he made this cake. Truly no real artisan of food would have produced something as terrible as that cake. I think it ostensibly was supposed to be a fruit cake – with a thick layer of chalky marzipan on top. Somehow he managed to over-alcohol a cake while having it be dry at the same time. I was ready to submit it to the Guinness Book of Records…”

“So why was Élyse battling you for your slice?”

“You see, I may have already had a fight or two with Samuel – he has some new boytoy, and he was being so insipid and sickly about it, I may have been ready to fight over any little thing. Élyse figured if I got rid of the slice via arm wrestling it could possibly save Christmas or something. Yadda yadda. Apparently no one seems to enjoy the Christmases when Samuel breaks down in angry tears and yells for an hour – not sure why when I find that sooooooo entertaining.”

“God I wish I was there for that… seeing Samuel’s face as if he was punched when he tries to cry elegantly is so therapeutic…” Edward murmured, “I feel like my Christmas was just me being the crying one.”

“Crying? What happened, Édouard?”

Squiggling in his seat, Edward wondered how much he should tell. A part of him wanted to spill it all, but another part wondered if that would be too much of an inconvenience. How much of his stupid worries did Étienne really want? Closing his eyes, Edward pretended they were in the same room together, maybe even touching, head on Étienne’s shoulder, not necessarily looking at the man, but bodies snuggled up, his hair getting played with. Those small stolen moments of bliss, where the worries got spilled, and he didn’t worry about the consequences.

“Christmas was so awkward; I don’t even know where to begin. The entire time I desperately wished I had gone to yours… it felt like the last time I try to be a functional person among them… hell, I only went because I thought maybe I could improve relations with people… start the new millennium off with some hope about the future.”

It really had been terrible. They had held it at the ranch – Bert’s ranch. Why the hell did he think hanging out with people at the ranch would be a good idea? Surrounded by people you probably should know better, but in reality only held passing pleasantries with. The one bright spot had been Calvin. Calvin who seemed to be best buddies with everyone who arrived, Calvin who smiled brightly at him and argued with him, distracting him from the knot of anxiety he was harbouring over whether he should come out during Christmas or hold off until New Years?

He was attempting small talk with Jo, who was talking at him about how they should go shopping together (did she not do other stuff?), when he overheard Bert loudly say “I personally don’t think those fags should be given the deal.”

It felt like time had slowed down for Edward. No one seemed to pause or care. Orson in fact nodded along with Bert’s rant, sipping his Sprite. Jo continued on with her plans for her next visit, and somewhere nearby Red laughed at a joke Madeline made. As he observed the room to see if there was any reaction to Bert’s loud rant, everyone was involved in their own conversations. Calvin was in the distance deep in conversation with someone he could not quite make out. 

Right, this was not the place. He still wanted turkey dinner, and as he dimly nodded along to Jo, Edward felt small. He had no allies here. Well, that wasn’t true. He was sure Edith supported him, but one in how many? Edward didn’t want to ‘ruin Christmas’.

“And you know how I’ve been thinking about coming out and stuff, but uh, can I just say no? If you were in the room you would understand – seriously Étienne, these people who claim to be my so called family would just as well lynch me as their Christmas bonfire – I dunno they could just douse me in bitumen and light me up human torch Christian martyr style for bringing the faggotry home for Christmas… Soooo I didn’t want to ruin Christmas and make the event awkward for everyone,” Edward related over the phone.

“And then horror of horrors, Orson managed to corner me in what he thinks is jovial conversation. It felt like everything he had to say to me was condescension masked in care and concern – honestly I am not sure how he even manages that. I think he felt like it was his civic duty to carry on a conversation with me. He even reminisced about the temple open house he dragged me to. Ok honestly I went to the open house out of curiosity, to see what sort of cult he’s in, but I didn’t think he would already be reminiscing about something that had literally JUST happened. Temple? Yeah, a Mormon temple just opened up in my city… so it meant I had the pleassssuuure of Orson coming up for the Open House and dragging me along. Stay with me? God no, please ‘Tienne I’m not that insane, what would I do if he snooped and found my big old dildo? Yeah he was staying with some church people since he was volunteering and such.”

“I think I wanted to die when he sat down at the piano – yeah, I didn’t even think Bert ever tuned that thing, but knowing Orson maybe he came extra early to tune it, and began banging out the Christmas carols. Like he’s talented and all, and I don’t mind a round of Jingle Bells, but he really has this creepy 1950s vibe and I wanted to roll my eyes when his eyes started to shine with unshed tears at Away in a Manger and O Holy Night.” Edward twisted the cord around his finger, as he listened to Étienne chuckle. Apparently the tactic was avoid talking about himself and instead rant about goody-two-shoes Orson? “You should count yourself lucky you don’t have to deal with him on a regular basis… mmm? Yeah he is kind, considerate and is literally the guy to volunteer for the worst tasks but there is something about him where he is a little too perfect? Like somehow can’t let my hair down around him type of deal. Which makes him perfect for Lilith – as she always has her hair up, haha.”

Edward had relaxed into his seat, somehow feeling lighter, as the words slipped out, “And then New Years was somehow worse… no I wasn’t at the ranch. I probably should have taken you up on your fireworks show, because the one here is uh Edmonton grade. You know – trying real hard but still somehow failing to miss the mark,” he chuckled at his own joke, not picking up on the strained tension from Étienne over the phone. “Calvin came up, which surprised me since I assumed he would want to be gallivanting about in Calgary, but apparently he wanted to spend it with his best buddy which is me? Somehow? Don’t worry Teddy, you’re still my best friend…” Edwards voice lowered, as he realized what he was about to say, admit. Pause. “So how was your New Years? Aahh why are you yelling – oh you’re saying I didn’t mention why New Years sucked? It’s because it wasn’t with you, darlin’.”

Somehow Edward couldn’t do it. Couldn’t quite bring himself around to admitting he had come out to Calvin. How he had fallen into a depression when he got outright rejected. “Hmm? Well, how else can I put it… while I could have been kissing you and sucking your cock, I instead got to hold Calvin’s hair back as he literally puked in my poinsettias… yes… mmhmm. The poor plant didn’t make it.”

Tangling his finger in the phone cord, Edward found himself relaxing as Étienne told him about his New Years event, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. The other man’s voice soothing him. Trying to be home for Christmas and the New Years - attempt to enter the new millennium as a man of his own place, had been a major mistake.

He should have kept to his original plans of escaping to Montreal, escaping his own clay dirt to mold himself into his own dream man.Sometimes he wondered if he loved Étienne or simply wanted to be Étienne. A complicated mixture of feelings confusing him ever more when it came to that man.

“Visit? I would love to visit… oh wait, you want to come visit me? When? Hmm let me… check my calendar.” Edward sat up, looking around, and then picked up the phone, carefully picking his way into the kitchen, so he could squint at the calendar. His telephone cord ran out though, so he had to do an awkward strain, trying not to unplug the phone, while seeing his own scribbled-in life.

Well… the only thing really was his work shifts. Everything else a blank. “How does this time work? You’re booked up. Alright…” Edward and Étienne haggled over dates, until somehow, it lined up that Edward was going to Montreal. A subtle shift, but as Edward said with some practicality – that’s just how it lined up. As he hung up the phone, he wrote down the date of his trip, feeling better. Now in between work was a small bright spot, one small thing to look forward to.He was not as friendless as he thought, and, perhaps with enough courage, he could finish his New Years story.        

[possibly-starker]

CherryDust. [Starker]

Murray smiles, greeting the audience, “Thank you! Thank you, you’re really too kind,” he says, taking his seat in the iconic velvet chair.

“Today we have the honor of having Peter Parker and the Cherrybombers on today’s show!” Murray beams as the crowd goes wild, whooping and cheering, Murray winks at the camera as he begins again, “Please, put your hands together, for what I think might be the most influential band of this generation!”

The sideline band plays the Murray Franklin jingle as Peter Parker and the Cherrybombers emerge from backstage, blowing kisses and throwing up peace signs. The crowd eats it up, losing their minds over the boys. Murray gives them all sort of half-hugs as they take their seats.

Finally the crowd dies down a bit. “Boys!” Murray greets, “It’s been so long since we’ve had you on the show,” Murray starts, exaggerating his motions, “Last time we had you on you all were about 16, right?”

Peter smiles politely, “Actually, Steve was 17.” Murray nods, “Yes, of course, and although we’re so happy to have you on the show, and of course we all love you, we have to talk about the recent drama going on between you and a rival band- ElectricDust.”

The crowd boos at the name, once thought of as few boys skipping supper with their family and refusing to go to church, now associated with drugs and statism, sex before marriage and cuss words.

Peter giggles, “They’re not much of a problem, Murray. They’re just a bunch of little boys thinking that if they behave badly enough, they’ll get somewhere.”

“They’re mongrels.” T’challa laughs. The audience laughs along with him. Murray chuckles, “Yes, but what are your thoughts on their new song ‘Rotten Cherry’? People are speculating it’s about your band, Peter.”

Peter fakes a smile, “I don’t think I’ve heard it, Murray.” He turns to his band-mates, “Have you guys heard it?” They all collectively shake their heads, murmuring ‘no’.

Murray nods, “Personally, I don’t think that Stark guy could carry a tune even if it was in a bucket!” Everybody in the studio laughs again.

“Tony tries too hard to be hardcore, he ends up looking like an idiot.” Peter sneers, “He’s a child.” The crowd makes noises of agreement.

Peter fakes a smile when Murray leans over and touches his thigh, “You know, they’re degenerates, Peter.” Murray says, almost lovingly. Steve looks like he wants to say something, like he wants to stick up for his band-mate. “I know, Murray.” Peter says, shifting away a bit.

Murray looks at Peter longingly, before turning to the camera, “We’re going to take a short break, and afterwards Peter Parker and the Cherrybombers will play their new hit single- Dewdrop Daisy!”

The cameraman gives Murray a thumbs up, and the beeping light on the camera turns off.

“Why don’t you meet me in my dressing room, Peter?” Murray says, standing up and adjusting his tie.

Peter feels sick to his stomach

“Okay.” He says sweetly.

-

The mosh pit smells like weed and sex, and Tony adores it. ElectricDust had a full house, not one ticket left over. Tony cards his hand through sweaty hair, “I hope you motherfuckers are having a good night!” he yells into the mic. The crowd screams back something obscene and Tony grins.

“If you want to fuck our bassist, scream at the top of your lungs!” Tony laughs, the crowd erupts in a loud roar, and Bucky, ElectricDust’s bassist, blushes.

The crowd dies down, and Tony speaks smoothly into the mic as he adjusts his guitar strap, “This next one was written for a nice piece of ass and his cronies,” the crowd ‘ooo’s and Tony can’t help the smirk forming on his lips, “‘Rotten Cherry’ is dedicated to my very good friend, who I know inside and out- Peter Parker!”

The crowd chants Pe-ter Par-ker over and over, and Tony hopes this preformance is somehow seen by the small brunette.

He feels like a god among men.

-

“You’re fueling the flames by talking about them.” Natasha scolds, leaning against he desk as the boys sit in her office. “You’re supposed to be a good christian pop/rock band- calling people ‘mongrels’ isn’t what you guys are supposed to do.” she glares at T’challa.

“ElectricDust is a problem, I, as your manger am supposed to deal with, is that understood?” The boys look at their suede shoes and mutter statements of agreement.

“Good.” Natasha says, placing her hands on her hips. She goes behind her desk and digs in a cabinet, retrieving a sleek styled red velvet envelope, “I’ve accepted an invitation to a little something I think you all might like.” she smiles, handing Peter the envelope.

Peter holds it carefully, looking up at Natasha with wide, confused eyes. “Go on and open it, we haven’t got all day.” She says in a motherly tone. The boys all gather around Peter as he opens the envelope cautiously, as if he was scared of what was inside.

He pulls out a dazzling blue card, very official looking.

‘PETER PARKER AND THE CHERRYBOMBERS HAVE BEEN NOMINATED FOR ‘BAND OF 1981’ ALONG WITH THEIR SONG, ‘DEWDROP DAISY’.

PLEASE REPORT TO ASGARD, U.S.A. FOR THE AWARDS CEREMONY.

LOKI LAUFEYSON, PRESIDENT OF OPALITE RECORDS.’

It says, in a swirly gold font. Peter keeps re-reading it, eyes shifting like crazy, looking for a sign that this is a fake or a joke. Steve’s breath hitches and Beck lets out a whoop of laughter, high-diving T’challa.

Peter finally looks up at Natasha again, who’s smiling softly. “Is this real?” Peter asks, out of breath. Natasha nods, “As real as they come.”

Opalite Records.

Opalite Records.

Who cares? It’s only the most exclusive record brand in the world, It was only the award ceramony that turned David Bowie and Bob Dylan down- no big deal.

Peter began to hyperventilate.

-

“Dude!” Quill yelled, grinning ear-to-ear as he entered the band’s trailer, holding up a velvet envelope.

Tony looked up from his guitar, “What do you want?” Quill slapped the envelope on the coffee-table in the middle of the trailer, looking quite proud of himself. “Open that shit up, Stark.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but leaned forward and picked up the envelope nonetheless, “If this is another bill for your porno-mags, Quill, so help me god-” he stopped mid-sentence after pulling out the card inside the envelope, face controrting.

‘ELECTRICDUST HAS BEEN NOMINATED FOR ‘BAND OF 1981’ ALONG WITH THEIR ALBUM, ‘MAN OF IRON’.

PLEASE REPORT TO ASGARD, U.S.A. FOR THE AWARDS CEREMONY.

LOKI LAUFEYSON, PRESIDENT OF OPALITE RECORDS.’

Quill beams as Tony looks over the letter, “And you said I was a shit manager.” Tony leans back into his chair, “You are.” Quill completely deflates, walking over and snatching the card out of Tony’s hand, huffing, “Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you considered for the ceremony?”

Tony tries to look stern, but Quill looks like he’s going to bitch all day if Tony doesn’t cave in, “Fine, fine, whatever man, thanks, you did well.” Tony sighs. Quill smiles again, “Finally, I’m getting the recognition I deserve.” Tony snorts but doesn’t reply.

Quill clasps his hands together, “I’m gonna grab a beer, they opened a bar just down the street- wanna come?”

Tony shakes his head, “Grab me a pack of Marlboros while you’re out.”

-

“Looking sharp, Parker.” Steve smiles, leaning against the dressing room doorframe. Peter grins, fixing his cuffs in the mirror, “You really think so? It’s not too much?”

Steve shrugs, “It’s nice. Very you.” Peter shoots Steve a playful glare, “Is that supposed to be a compliment, Rogers?”

“You overthink things, Peter. You look fine.” Steve sighs, crossing his arms. Peter scoffs, “Fine is for church, I need to look better than fine; we’re going to the awards ceremony to top all award ceremonies, Steve. It’s going to be televised.”

Steve lets out a soft laugh, “You’re so different from the Peter Parker I knew in highschool.” Peter looks confused, “That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I was a nobody in highschool.”

“You were my friend. Just because you didn’t have people fawning over you left and right doesn’t mean you were a nobody. You liked Star Wars and turning your homework in early.” Steve looks slightly offended, and Peter gives him an unamused stare, “As much as I love you, Steve, being your nerdy little highschool friend in the middle of NowheresVille, Wisconsin doesn’t get you invited to the Opalite Records ceremony.”

Steve’s offended look blends into a sad one, “We started this band out of your uncle’s garage. It was for fun. This isn’t fun, anymore Peter. It’s not fun when it’s all you think about.” he says softly, walking out of the room.

Peter doesn’t realize that Steve’s gone until it’s time to leave.

-

“Baby, listen to me,” Tony says over the phone, “I know I cheated on you, but I’m a changed man, just come to this shindig with me for a few hours.”

Pepper sighs over the phone, “You know, I would, Tony, but I just can’t be bothered right now. Goodbye, love.”

click

Tony curses under his breath as he flips through a few more pages in his notebook, settling on a one night stand he had met last week. He dials her number.

“Hi, you’ve reached Wanda Maximoff-”

“Wanda!” Tony smiles, remembering her name, “Listen, babe, how’d you like to go on a little date with me tonig-”

“-I’m not here right now, but you’re welcome to leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible!” the recorded message chirps and Tony’s face falls, he slams the phone down on its hook.

He groans. He’s called just about every girl he’s ever interacted with, and not one wanted to accompany Tony to the awards ceremony.

“Woah,” Scott, ElectricDust’s keyboard player, says, entering the trailer’s makeshift livingroom, “Someone’s havin’ a bad day.”

“Wanna go on a date with me, Scott?” Tony says with a strained laugh. Scott fans himself, “On a date? With you? How could I possibly say no?” Tony buries his face in his hands, obviously stressed. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I figured.”

“Have you tried, you know, actually being nice to your dates?” Scott says, grabbing a canned beer from the minifridge. “I heard that works wonders.” Tony narrows his eyes, “What do you mean? I’m always nice to my dates!”

Scott raises his brow, opening the can, “Really? You made me drive that blonde girl home yesterday because she didn’t want to so much as look at you.”

Tony stays quiet. Point taken.

Scott takes a few sips of his beer before belching, “Hope you find somebody, Tones. You got about,” he checks his wristwatch, “6 hours before we gotta leave.”

Tony groans again and then continues to flip through his notebook.

-

The theater is gorgeous, a large crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and painted angels on every wall- Peter feels almost inferior in a place like this.

“Darlings!” Loki announces from across the room, striding over to Peter and his bandmates, “You all look absolutely ravishing.” he smiles. “So glad you could make it!”

Peter nods dumbly, blushing. “Thanks so much for inviting us, Mr. Laufeyson, it's a real honor.” Steve steps in, firmly taking Loki’s hand in his and shaking it. “Yes, well, the media would absolutely die if you all weren't invited- there's champagne and wine being served at the lounge if you want any.” Loki quickly says, before sashaying away.

Peter’s practically glowing as he turns to face his bandmates, “I think that went really well.” he grins.

-

“Jesus, Scott, could you be any worse of a driver?” Bucky sneers, holding onto the door handle as Scott swerves. “You’re lucky I'm not making you take the Metro, tin-man.”

The car is cramped and hot, making it difficult for Tony to snort a nice clean line. “We’re 30 minutes late,” Bucky says, almost annoyed, “Step on it.”

Scott turns around to face the brunette, running through a red light, “You know, you're a real bitch, Buck.” Tony sighs, finally getting a good half of the powder up his nose, “Eyes on the road, Scotty.” he mumbles, sinking back into the leather seat.

Scott says something under his breath, but turns back around and continues to drive.

-

Peter chokes on his sparkling water when he sees a very certain group of people get pass security.

What's worse is the fact that they're completely ignoring the dress code, showing up in denim jeans and t-shirts. Peter thinks he's going to puke.

Tony feels ecstatic when he spots that tuft of curly chocolate hair in the crowd, excusing himself from his bandmates as he pushes through the sea of Hollywood's elite.

“Parker!” he yells, and Peter tries to pretend he didn't hear it, turning away and taking another sip of his sparkling water.

“Don't be that way, princess!” Tony grins, finally catching up to the small thing, ”I just wanna talk to you.” Peter doesn't respond, which just makes Tony more restless, ”Parker, c’mon, baby! Let's catch up, preferably in the back of Scott’s car, but whatever works for you.”

Peter gives in, reluctantly, looking around to make sure nobody important is looking before speaking, “What the hell are you doing here? Did you come here just to ruin my night?” Peter hisses. Tony laughs, which just puts Peter more at unease, “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, me and my boys were invited.”

“Unlikely.” Peter scoffs. “Invited to clean the floors more like it.”

Tony looks more annoyed now than anything, “My boys have worked just as hard as yours to be here, Parker.” Peter huffs, “You’re kidding. You don’t actually think you deserve to be here, right?” Peter let’s out a breathy laugh at the idea. “You’re nobodies, Stark,” he begins, poking at Tony’s chest, “You make music for losers, for outcasts. You’re only here because you gained popularity by dissing my band.”

Peter smiles up at Tony and walks away, leaving Tony alone with his battered ego.

-

Peter and Tony avoid each other for the rest of the night, despite their bandmates mingling and laughing with eachother, enjoying tiny cheese platters and white wine.

Peter’s too stubborn to make amends.

Tony just wants to give him space.

Finally, at around 12, the lights dim down and everyone is ushered into the seating area. Loki walks on stage, holding several envelopes in his hands.

“Thank you all for coming,” he says, sweetly, into the mic, “It means a lot to my record label that you took time out of your busy lives to visit little ole’ me.” the crowd giggles at that, Peter included.

“Now, without further ado- I give you the 22nd annual Opalite Records awards ceremony!” the crowd cheers and claps, buzzing with excitement.

Peter crosses his fingers, and Tony wishes they had something stronger than champagne.

-

After a grueling 2 hours of watching other bands and solo artists receive awards, Loki finally announces that he has the final and most important award of the evening.

“Everyone in this room is awfully talented,” Loki says, smiling softly, “But these people are just... better. Don’t take it too harshly, now.” he opens the card, slowly and teasingly, Peter thinks he’s going to pass out from the anticipation. Tony’s on his fifth glass of red wine, and he’s showing now signs of stopping.

“And the winner for band of 1981 is...”

Peter’s palms are sweaty, and he’s on the edge of his seat.

“My, what a surprise, it’s ElectricDust!”

Peter’s world comes crashing down around him, he glances over to where Tony and his goons are getting up, stumbling over their own feet.

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair.

“Woah, hey Peter, are you oka-” Steve begins, trying to comfort his friend, but Peter jolts up, interrupting him.

“I’m... going for a walk.” he declares, voice breaking.

Tony watches as Peter quickly makes a bolt for the exit. He taps Scott on the shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” he mumbles.

Scott’s eyebrows furrow, “Dude, it’s speech time! You gotta go up ther-”

“Make up something!” Tony grins, already making his way towards the exit as well, “Thank my mom for me!”

-

Peter sits on the cold, concrete steps outside of the theatre, hot tears streaming down his face. He had worked so hard, and it didn’t even matter.

“Is this seat taken?” a familiar voice softly speaks from behind Peter.

“Did you come here to rub it in?” Peter sniffles, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Tony takes a seat next to Peter, “No. I came here because I care.”

Peter laughs, rolling his eyes, “Am I supposed to believe that?”

Tony shrugs, “Believe what you want, Peter. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

They sit in silence for a while.

“Thank you.” Peter says softly, not daring to look up at Tony. “What you’re doing it’s- you’re a good guy.” he says, shyly.

Tony smiles, “I don’t give a shit about the award, or being even nominated, in all honesty, that Loki guy gives me the creeps.”

“Why’d you come here then?”

“I wanted to see you. I was hoping writing a song about you would grab your attention, but I think I like talking face-to-face better.”

Peter smiles, a gorgeous ‘I-don’t-know-I’m-smiling’ kind of smile, and Tony’s heart swells.

“I’m sorry I said all that stuff about you.” Peter finally says, gaining the courage to look Tony in the eye.

“I’ve been called worse- no hard feelings.”

Peter’s eyes light up as he giggles.

“Listen, I don’t exactly have a date for this thing,” Tony jabs a thumb at the building, “Know anybody who might wanna, I don’t know, get together? Even if it’s just for tonight.”

Peter pretends to think for a second. “I might; but he’s really hungry, so you might want to ask him after a burger. Or 5.”

Tony laughs, standing up, extending his arm so that Peter can grab it, “The night’s still young, princess.”

Peter beams, letting himself get heaved up by Tony, “We best make the most of it.”

🌻🌻🌻🌻

The absolutely beautiful moodboard was made by the fantastic @starkermoodboards !! She makes fucking stellar boards so why are you not following her.

This fic took forever to write, so appreciate it please 😔 i’m also sorry this is so long????

-Red.

[the-deeds-to-shibden]

Friday 30 August 1839

[Ann’s rheumatism is troubling her, but she continues bravely on. More foresty, laky, pretty, and picturesque landscapes are met with, while Anne waxes lyrical about Swedish bread that just hits the spot. A day of thoroughly entrancing views crowned with a good dinner - and tomorrow another mine visit beckons!]

[up at] 6 ¾

[to bed at] 12 5/” 

Fine morning but dullish and windy. F 59 1/2° at 7 ½  a.m. Poor Ann complained of pain last night left shoulder -  bad - regular rheumatism – tied a woollen stocking round it  this morning – breakfast at 8 ½ and over at 8 50/” – very comfortable here – everything  good and abundant – coffee particulary good – perhaps the best we  have had in Sweden – sent off forbud last night that we might be able to reach Falun in good time without hurrying  off this morning – the morning was sunny between 6 and 7 and finer  than now – off at 9 33/” – at very near 10 (1/2 miles from Ovanssö)  at top of hill fine view over wide expanse of country and Nasby sjö (Naseby shoo) fine large peninsular-parted inland lake the extreme distance everywhere shut in by dark pine forest – the white steeple of our church at Ovanssö seen distinctly scattered hamlets and farms as far as one can see – literally the North of Sweden seems more populous than the south parts  that we have seen and more foresty and laky and pretty and picturesque?  

off again in 7 minutes at 10 5/” – nice drive – forest  begins here at the point de vue – at Solberga at 11 10/”  forest almost all the way with scattered hamlets or little farms and solitary barns good white washed church and scattered village at a little distance from our station, small neat looking place with 2 or 3 cottages near – the country north of Upsala more picturesque  and better farmed then before – here at Solberga we are near pine- wooded (forest) ranges of hill – much of the rud-like moss on the stones today in the forest on boulder stones lying along the round sides – 1st observed in the forests in the afternoon as we drove from Österby (Dannemora) on Wednesday      Limpa bread that I like so much        Hops (and prunus padus common in Sweden) today and yesterday – today Rye  looking well – 3 inches out of the ground – beautiful drive these 2 miles – (at 1 29/”) to Rörshytta as spelt at the station – forest  and break and fine wooded hill and hamlets, farms and  cottages – beautiful lake (left) soon after the station – there at 12 ¾  to 2 10/” we cotoyent (right) large wooded islandy, indented very beautiful lake (greenshaw lake) to the village of  Shärransöön – baron Strom-sturn has a large white chateau and iron forge here and here (left) a higher water like a broad river soon extending (left) into another pretty lake that supplies the mills (forge wheels)  good picturesque scattered village – nice little church – white splashed and red village – the other villages dark red-smeared with white window  frames as usual – 

waited to write the above and en route again now  at 1 42/” – lake (right) and forest – hilly – foresty laky  and lovely today – wrote this as we walk our horses up a hill – rocky forest – this stage hilly – sunny and fine since about  noon or rather after till about 2 then dull but fair – beautiful drive  to Smedby at 3 – hilly and sandy – much and heavy rain has lately fallen  on the road – Smedby very picturesque scattered good village – large handsome white washed church – picturesque nice little red station-house – might sleep here and at the last station for both look tidy –  good clean farming and land well cleared of stones – corn about ½ housed and about ½ in stook and some yet to cut –  no wheat – rye almost all housed – chiefly oats and barley out and chiefly oats to cut – large herd of cows 1st stage going to a fair chiefly white (little) cows – worth about 30 rigsdollars apiece – off again at 3 – had entered Dalecarlia about ¼ hour before  Smedby – beautiful drive from thence – these wooded hills of Dalecarlia very beautiful – the dark pine relived by the light birch – much birch here,  floating bridge just out of Smedby – and at 3 ¾ toll gate – broad river to cross by another floating bridge just below the gate where the toll 2 skilling Banco as before was for the bridge – bridge about 6 yards wide and 40 or 50 long?  Beautiful view on both sides the bridge – the station house at Uppbo neat but small  close to the other end of the bridge – the view from this bridge next in beauty to Swinesund ferry (near Westgaard) 

Off again at 4 and soon after sunny again – beautiful drive –  hilly – forest and 2 or 3 little  lakes, and fine valley – difficult to say  which stage today most beautiful always excepting the fine lake Here Strand at 5 13/” – the clocks later – the horses ordered for  5 ½ and not come my watch ¼ too late at the last stage  nice enough station house here – could sleep very well – alighted and writing very comfortably in a room upstairs – it was near here Strand (scattered village station house standing quite at one end) that Gustavus Wasa was concealed when nearly discovered by the  Dane – what a beautiful picture might be made of the lake  and wooded hills and fine valley as a background to the cottage and Gustaf  Wasa – beautiful sunny evening now at 5 35/” and beautiful sunset – beautiful drive the great part of the way thro’ forest – more scotch than spruce – beautiful lake up – up to the river at Falun – exactly ½ way at 6 35/” a copper fonderie, the 1st we have seen – another in about ½ hour  and then a 3rd in about ¼ hour more – good handsome looking brick church  and large place and white washed town hall forming a great  part of one side of it – then cross the river over long wooden  bridge and alight at our Inn at 8 40/” – 2 good bedrooms – mine opening into a large very good salle à manger –  we are in clover – writing till supper now at 9 35/”  fried little fish and veal cutlets and little pancakes, all very  good – then coffee and sat talking till now 10 35/” – fine  day – Fahrenheit 60 ¼ at 11 p.m.

Anne’s marginal notes:

Overanssö

Ann’s rheumatism

fine view –

red rud-like moss

limpa bread

Dalecarlia

1st floating bridge near Smedby 2nd at Uppbo and view next in beauty to Swinesund ferry

Fahlu

WYAS pages:       SH:7/ML/TR/130016        SH:7/ML/TR/130017

A Dalarna landscape:

Church at Ovansjö (photo Jan Ainali):

Chateau at Stjärnsund (photo Holger Ellgaard):

Anne’s beloved limpa bread:

[qdtquietdownthere]

Day 6- Churches and car boots

This morning I fell asleep sat up in bed. The covers were off me and I had my legs crossed. Completely sat up straight. But I fell asleep.

I think I am a little tired today.

I get coffee in the coffee shop just outside pimlico tube station, I can see Pret a Manger down one of the streets directed towards Westminster and I am happy I am not there, I am happy I am in pimlico, in this “little village” (said by everyone ever in pimlico, 2019).

Today is car boot today and the area has exploded with people. As I get closer to the school carpark/playground there are people everywhere, literal car boots and expansive stalls. There are people standing in the street drinking and eating some sort of stew. They are all Spanish speakers and I notice a man wearing a very Mexican pair of jeans. I try to start conversation and ask what is going on but conversation doesn't flow and I carry on. I have my coffee in my hand still and im just meandering. Wishing I had some stew. The streets are alive this morning.

Being outside in a non-space space, in neutral and mutual space is great. I love European cities for their markets and outside food stalls. I was recently in Mexico and one thing which really stood out was how a city centre square plays such a key role in peoples lives. From socialising, eating or simply just being. Sunday reminds me of these communities which use the city space as a place to mingle and be with each other.

At the market I buy a very gross but very lovely statue of a dog. The lady who sells it to me for the sweet price of £3 makes me go and look in her car at her real dog. He is named after a Russian philosopher and I embarrass myself when i try and say the name back to the owner. The market has young children selling their toys, antique stalls, mirrors and lots and lots of clothes. The whole area is here.

I slowly make my was to midday mass at the Holy Apostles catholic church, something i have never taken part in before. As i walk the groups of Spanish speaking people have disappeared from the streets and there is no stew in sight. I suspect mass will be busy today. I walk in the door of the church and hold it open for a lady coming in behind me. “gracias” she says. I cant help but wonder how great it must be for her to come to a place where she can speak her own language. church is packed and mass has already started. I walk down the centre aisle (for some mad reason) and then decide to sit in the middle of the seats so i’m completely surrounded (for another mad reason). I very quickly become aware that I am probably the only non Spanish speaker in the room. Afterall, who would go to Spanish mass if you don't speak Spanish?

Its nice to just sit there and think and watch. I enjoy it for a split second. I am glad I wore a shirt because everyone is very smart. I wonder if I should have my head bowed. Suddenly everyone gets on their knees and I feel so awkward that im just sat their with my head bowed. Some time later they all say a pray in unison and touch each cheek which signing the cross on their forehead. Again, I just sit. The grand finale comes when everyone suddenly upon the vicars wishes starts Turing round and kissing all the people immediately around them. Im red and shake everyones hand. Despite the embarrassment however, I feel warm.

The places and activities I have felt most relaxed, welcomed and completely enveloped within that micro community has been in places of religion. Nothing compares to the overwhelming warmth of becoming part of the choir which took place in the evangelical church.The hugs and the invites. Its a safe space and it really feels like that. Is it because there is such a spectrum of people, all there for one reason which is bigger than themselves? Old, young and at this mass, even a baby sat next to me. As an Atheist I have no belief in god or a higher power, but I believe, and want to be part of this community which is embracive and looks beyond oneself. I find this aspect of the residency fascinating.

After mass I am kind of on cloud nine, though do have a giggle about the redness of my face when everyone started to kiss. I wonder if they could tell I dint speak the language?

I sit in the park and want to draw.

I buy 3 nectarines for £1 and sit outside the station and devour them.

They are delicious.

I am excited by the confidence and energy I have developed. I though I was like this anyway. But this is different. I don't get at all worried walking into different situations. Sitting in a pub by myself now is something I wouldn't hesitate to do. These activities and the constant genuine human interactions have almost given me a next level in how to enjoy being. Enjoy simply being. I am confident in talking to anyone and I want to do this. I said good morning to my grumpy neighbour who never said anything, back but i don't mind. My dad once gave me a printed out piece of paper titled ’50 golden rules’ . One of the rules on the list was to be a local, or be a regular…something like that. I feel this now. It is a necessity.

The last activity for the day is a concert at Sloan Square Cathedral. It is a different world here. In this church and in this area. The music and the choir are beautiful. There are lots of grey hair white faces and red trousers. Actually, thats all I really see. I have a glass of red wine and at one point want to cover my ears because the organ is so loud its managed to get into the very depths of my brain. I try to talk to the lady sat next to me, but it doesn't go down too well. I sip at the wine by myself and listen and watch. Everyone seems to know one another. I feel like I am at church on Christmas Eve. It is funny because going to church on Christmas Eve has become a relatively recent thing for me and my family. My Dad has been with his partner for I think around 9 years now. Going to church a Christmas was something they have always done because of my step sisters involvement in singing. It too has become an event I have done for many years now too. I feel comfortable and I know whats happening. However there is loneliness for me too, as I am completely aware that everyone around me has been doing it all their lives, more importantly a lot of them know each other. In this second sat here in this performance at Sloane Square Cathedral I feel like a complete outsider.

It is from this experience tonight that I wonder if we can implement loneliness on ourselves?

I wonder if tonight I have a chip on my shoulder. If I am uncomfortable that the room is dominated by white men, do I automatically isolate myself ?  I wonder why in this situation am I more hesitant to go and introduce myself to someone new compared to those in the writing class, or the choir? Was it the formality of the event? A feeling of inferiority?

I think loneliness is effected by our confidence. I am less lonely than I was before I did this residency because I have simply had to do these activities. Going to these events and activities has  both required, and given me confidence.

I enjoy the concert and I end the night with a cup of tea in bed. I will fall asleep horizontal tonight, instead of upright.

​#tags

[christiancomputerstudent]

this is a cool article about, Christians needing to be more like Jesus, when did Christianity become far from being like Jesus, Jesus is our Role model and we should be more like him

The Article can be found at https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a6646/shane-claiborne-1209/

To all my nonbelieving, sort-of-believing, and used-to-be-believing friends: I feel like I should begin with a confession. I am sorry that so often the biggest obstacle to God has been Christians. Christians who have had so much to say with our mouths and so little to show with our lives. I am sorry that so often we have forgotten the Christ of our Christianity.

Forgive us. Forgive us for the embarrassing things we have done in the name of God.

The other night I headed into downtown Philly for a stroll with some friends from out of town. We walked down to Penn's Landing along the river, where there are street performers, artists, musicians. We passed a great magician who did some pretty sweet tricks like pour change out of his iPhone, and then there was a preacher. He wasn't quite as captivating as the magician. He stood on a box, yelling into a microphone, and beside him was a coffin with a fake dead body inside. He talked about how we are all going to die and go to hell if we don't know Jesus.

Some folks snickered. Some told him to shut the hell up. A couple of teenagers tried to steal the dead body in the coffin. All I could do was think to myself, I want to jump up on a box beside him and yell at the top of my lungs, "God is not a monster." Maybe next time I will.

The more I have read the Bible and studied the life of Jesus, the more I have become convinced that Christianity spreads best not through force but through fascination. But over the past few decades our Christianity, at least here in the United States, has become less and less fascinating. We have given the atheists less and less to disbelieve. And the sort of Christianity many of us have seen on TV and heard on the radio looks less and less like Jesus.

At one point Gandhi was asked if he was a Christian, and he said, essentially, "I sure love Jesus, but the Christians seem so unlike their Christ." A recent study showed that the top three perceptions of Christians in the U. S. among young non-Christians are that Christians are 1) antigay, 2) judgmental, and 3) hypocritical. So what we have here is a bit of an image crisis, and much of that reputation is well deserved. That's the ugly stuff. And that's why I begin by saying that I'm sorry.

Now for the good news.

I want to invite you to consider that maybe the televangelists and street preachers are wrong — and that God really is love. Maybe the fruits of the Spirit really are beautiful things like peace, patience, kindness, joy, love, goodness, and not the ugly things that have come to characterize religion, or politics, for that matter. (If there is anything I have learned from liberals and conservatives, it's that you can have great answers and still be mean... and that just as important as being right is being nice.)

The Bible that I read says that God did not send Jesus to condemn the world but to save it... it was because "God so loved the world." That is the God I know, and I long for others to know. I did not choose to devote my life to Jesus because I was scared to death of hell or because I wanted crowns in heaven... but because he is good. For those of you who are on a sincere spiritual journey, I hope that you do not reject Christ because of Christians. We have always been a messed-up bunch, and somehow God has survived the embarrassing things we do in His name. At the core of our "Gospel" is the message that Jesus came "not [for] the healthy... but the sick." And if you choose Jesus, may it not be simply because of a fear of hell or hope for mansions in heaven.

Don't get me wrong, I still believe in the afterlife, but too often all the church has done is promise the world that there is life after death and use it as a ticket to ignore the hells around us. I am convinced that the Christian Gospel has as much to do with this life as the next, and that the message of that Gospel is not just about going up when we die but about bringing God's Kingdom down. It was Jesus who taught us to pray that God's will be done "on earth as it is in heaven." On earth.

One of Jesus' most scandalous stories is the story of the Good Samaritan. As sentimental as we may have made it, the original story was about a man who gets beat up and left on the side of the road. A priest passes by. A Levite, the quintessential religious guy, also passes by on the other side (perhaps late for a meeting at church). And then comes the Samaritan... you can almost imagine a snicker in the Jewish crowd. Jews did not talk to Samaritans, or even walk through Samaria. But the Samaritan stops and takes care of the guy in the ditch and is lifted up as the hero of the story. I'm sure some of the listeners were ticked. According to the religious elite, Samaritans did not keep the right rules, and they did not have sound doctrine... but Jesus shows that true faith has to work itself out in a way that is Good News to the most bruised and broken person lying in the ditch.

It is so simple, but the pious forget this lesson constantly. God may indeed be evident in a priest, but God is just as likely to be at work through a Samaritan or a prostitute. In fact the Scripture is brimful of God using folks like a lying prostitute named Rahab, an adulterous king named David... at one point God even speaks to a guy named Balaam through his donkey. Some say God spoke to Balaam through his ass and has been speaking through asses ever since. So if God should choose to use us, then we should be grateful but not think too highly of ourselves. And if upon meeting someone we think God could never use, we should think again.

After all, Jesus says to the religious elite who looked down on everybody else: "The tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the Kingdom ahead of you." And we wonder what got him killed?

I have a friend in the UK who talks about "dirty theology" — that we have a God who is always using dirt to bring life and healing and redemption, a God who shows up in the most unlikely and scandalous ways. After all, the whole story begins with God reaching down from heaven, picking up some dirt, and breathing life into it. At one point, Jesus takes some mud, spits in it, and wipes it on a blind man's eyes to heal him. (The priests and producers of anointing oil were not happy that day.)

In fact, the entire story of Jesus is about a God who did not just want to stay "out there" but who moves into the neighborhood, a neighborhood where folks said, "Nothing good could come." It is this Jesus who was accused of being a glutton and drunkard and rabble-rouser for hanging out with all of society's rejects, and who died on the imperial cross of Rome reserved for bandits and failed messiahs. This is why the triumph over the cross was a triumph over everything ugly we do to ourselves and to others. It is the final promise that love wins.

It is this Jesus who was born in a stank manger in the middle of a genocide. That is the God that we are just as likely to find in the streets as in the sanctuary, who can redeem revolutionaries and tax collectors, the oppressed and the oppressors... a God who is saving some of us from the ghettos of poverty, and some of us from the ghettos of wealth.

In closing, to those who have closed the door on religion — I was recently asked by a non-Christian friend if I thought he was going to hell. I said, "I hope not. It will be hard to enjoy heaven without you." If those of us who believe in God do not believe God's grace is big enough to save the whole world... well, we should at least pray that it is.

Your brother,

Shane

[johnhardinsawyer]

Lifting the Veil

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

4 / 4 / 21 – Easter Sunday – 10 AM

John 20:1-18

Isaiah 25:6-9

“Lifting the Veil”

(Unshrouding the Resurrection)

There has got to be a better way to fold a fitted sheet.  I know it’s Easter – and we’ll talk about Easter –  but we need to talk about laundry for just a minute – specifically fitted bed sheets with elastic on the corners.

I can’t neatly fold a fitted bed sheet to save my life.  I know that my Momma tried to teach me how years ago, and I know that I could look it up on some instructional video on YouTube, but it’s gotten to where, basically, I just take the sheets off my bed, and I wash them, and then I put them right back on the bed so I don’t have to fold them.

I know it sounds silly, and maybe even a little bit lazy, and I imagine my prim and proper Grandmother – who used to starch and iron the sheets – with a disapproving look on her face, but, in my forty-fifth year of life, when it comes to folding fitted sheets, I have begun to wonder, “What’s the point?”  I mean, I’ve tried – I really have – and I want to do a good job so things are nice and neat, but I know I’m just going to end up stretching it back over the mattress, and covering it with the flat sheet – which I do know how to fold, by the way.  So, why go to all the trouble with the fitted sheet?  

You know, there are four different accounts of the resurrection – found in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – and there are little details that make each of them unique.  In Matthew, there is an angel and an earthquake and there are men guarding the tomb who faint from fear.[1]  In Mark, the women who come to the tomb are greeted by a young man in a white robe who tells them that Jesus has been raised, and then the women run away and don’t say anything to anyone because they are afraid.[2]  In Luke, there are two men in dazzling clothes who greet the women and give them the good news of the resurrection.  The women all run to tell the disciples and Peter comes running back to the tomb and looks in.  It is there, in the tomb, where he sees them – the bed sheets – “the linen cloths by themselves.” (Luke 24:12)[3]

Today’s reading from the Gospel of John, also mentions the linen cloths – the burial shroud.  In John, though, we get a little more detail.  You see, when Simon Peter and the other disciple come running and look into the empty tomb, all they find are “the linen wrappings lying there” (John 20:5) “and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.” (20:7)

Aha!  You see. . . It would seem that I’m not the only one who doesn’t bother taking the time to fold some of the linens.  

The story of the resurrection is shrouded in mystery.  Not only are there four different gospel accounts with four different sets of details, but it all happened so long ago.  There are some names, and rough dates in the ancient historical record.  But there is no photographic evidence – no cell phone videos or body-cam footage.  In the case of the resurrection, all we have is the eyewitness testimony of a few women and some former fishermen – not necessarily the gold standard when it comes to the chain of evidence.

It is interesting, though, that at least two of the gospels talk about this linen shroud that covers Jesus.  In both Luke and John, a certain man named Joseph of Arimathea buries Jesus, and in John, he is joined by a Pharisee named Nicodemus.  The two men take the body down from the cross and cover it with perfumes and balms “weighing about a hundred pounds” and they wrap the body “with the spices and linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the” day.  (19:38-40)  In the original language the word used to describe the cloth is less like a sheet and more like a “linen bandage.”[4]  This is the same kind of stuff that would have been used on a mummy in Egypt.

In the resurrection story, we see this cloth that wrapped the body, cast aside, as if it once served a certain purpose but now is no longer needed.  It’s just a wadded-up old cloth rolled up and thrown in the corner.

You might be wondering why I am making such a big deal about the cloth – especially since it is only mentioned in passing, and was then, likely, picked up and thrown away.  I admit that I might not have paid much attention to the cloth before, either, but in today’s reading from the Book of Isaiah, we find another reference to a burial cloth – a burial shroud.  

Just so you know, Isaiah was written centuries before the first Easter, but people will often find passages in Isaiah that seem to line up with the stories of Jesus.  In today’s reading from Isaiah 25, the prophet paints a very dramatic picture of something that will take place at some point in the future.  On the mountain of the Lord – there in the Holy City of Jerusalem – God will make a rich feast for all people.  And God will destroy the “shroud that is cast over all peoples, the sheet that is spread over all nations.”  (Isaiah 25:7)  In the original language, the word that Isaiah uses here, is a word that means “a woven web, or veil, that is covering all people.”[5]  Isaiah also talks about a “tight cloth wrapping, sticking to all people.”[6]  

In the gospels, we see Jesus literally wrapped in a cloth – both when he is born and placed in a manger, and when he dies and is laid in a tomb.  In Isaiah, we see a cloth – a burial shroud – figuratively covering all people.  In the gospels, we see the burial shroud wadded up and thrown away because it is no longer needed.  And, in Isaiah, we see God destroying the death shroud that covers the earth.  

This is what God has done in Jesus Christ on the day of resurrection.  As Isaiah writes, “death is swallowed up, forever.” (25:7)

You know, it is interesting, but maybe not surprising, that when Isaiah talks about a shroud, he uses a word that is closely linked to the word for “mystery or secrecy.”[7]  As I mentioned a moment ago, the resurrection is an event shrouded in mystery.  When it comes to stories about the resurrection, there is this miraculous thing that happens – with the empty tomb and Jesus appearing, alive again.  And, yet, it seems like there is a literal and figurative veil of mystery over the whole thing that causes everyone to have a hard time seeing it for what it is – seeing Jesus for who he is.  Peter and the other disciple run to the tomb, but they don’t stick around long enough to see Jesus.  They leave, before they fully understand.  How many of us have been guilty of that?  In today’s story, Mary is weeping in the garden, but she doesn’t recognize Jesus until he calls her name.[8]  How many of us are waiting for some kind of sign like that?  In the Gospel of Luke, the risen Christ goes on a walk and has a great conversation with some of his own disciples, but they don’t recognize him until he breaks bread in their presence and then, suddenly, they truly see him and believe.[9]

I’m curious about this phenomenon because part of me wants to say, “How could these people not see Jesus?  They had been sitting at his feet, learning from him, and watching him perform miracles.  Some of them had even seen him die on the cross.  They knew what he looked like.  They knew Jesus and, yet they still couldn’t tell it was him.  Were they blind, or was something else going on?

Well, they had just seen their friend, Jesus, killed in a horrific way.  I wonder if their eyes veiled by deep feelings of grief, and regret, and anxiety about the future.  Trauma can do that to people – it can put blinders on us so that we can’t see things as they truly are.

I don’t know about you, but I feel like all of us have been living this past year in a bit of an emotional haze that has clouded our collective vision.  It’s like the pandemic has both heightened and dulled all of our senses.  The parts of us that make us feel anxious have been heightened and this has made us more sensitive when it comes to all kinds of things. People are quick to anger and slow to relax and it doesn’t take a lot to set someone off when it comes to mask-wearing or vaccines, or politics or race, or any other thing.  But the trouble with living life on alert at all times means that we are in a constant state of agitation about something – hence the haze that we’ve been living in. . .  the dulling of our senses.  With all of the emotional noise in our minds and hearts, it can be hard to focus on the good stuff.  And when it’s hard to focus, it’s hard to see. . .

There are times when you and I are so far removed from the resurrection that I know it can be so hard to see it for what it is.  Death, and grief, and anxiety, and fear are like a shroud that covers our eyes, and our minds, and our hearts.  Our fragile human bodies are covered, as well, by the shroud of infirmity and mortality.  And there are times when it can be hard to see through the tears that this hard and finite life can bring.  

And yet. . . and yet. . . in the resurrection, Jesus finds us wherever we may be weeping and wipes away our tears.  As Isaiah writes, “the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces.” (25:8)  Even ours. . .

My Easter hope is that God would lift the veil – even if it is for just a moment – to help us see clearly that the troubles that so tightly shroud and cling to us are only temporary.  We don’t need this veil anymore.  My Easter hope is that the shroud covering us will be torn up and thrown away.  We don’t need this shroud anymore.  

In the resurrection, God doesn’t have time for veils and shrouds.  God doesn’t need those things and we don’t either.  In the resurrection, God’s very self is revealed in all of God’s glory.  

When it comes to seeing the glory of the resurrection in your own life, my hope and prayer is that God would grant you the vision to see signs of life and hope in every moment.  

The One who came to open the eyes of the blind and throw down sin and death appears again and again to offer us new and abundant life.  May we see clearly that the shroud has been cast aside.

The One for whom all creation was waiting is risen from the grave.  On this day, let us be glad and rejoice in God’s salvation.[10]

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 

------------ 

[1] See Matthew 28:2-4.

[2] See Mark 16:2-8.

[3] See Luke 24:1-12.

[4] Walter Bauer, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago:  University of Chicago Press, 1979) 555.

[5] F. Brown, S. Driver, and C. Briggs, The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon (Peabody:  Hendrickson Publishers, 1997) 651.

[6] Brown-Driver-Briggs, 532.

[7] Brown-Driver-Briggs, 532.

[8] See John 20:16.

[9] See Luke 24:13-35.

[10] See Isaiah 25:9.

[lightoftruth]

Christmas is an annual holiday on December 25 commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ. The original term for Christmas meant “Christ’s Mass,” related to the celebration of the Eucharist of the Christ. The holiday was introduced in AD 379 in Constantinople. Though Christmas is a uniquely Christian holiday, it is often celebrated by both Christians and non-Christians in different ways.

Christians who celebrate Christmas remember the incarnation. That’s when Jesus, the Son of God, entered into human history, became a man, lived a perfect life, was unjustly crucified on a Roman cross, and was raised from the dead (Acts 10:39–40; 1 Corinthians 15:3–4). Christians commemorate actual historical events in Christmas activities and celebrations. Though many in 21st-century Western countries reject Christian references and import secular ideas into the holiday celebrations, Christmas is still a much-beloved holiday throughout the world.

CONTENTS

The Story of Christmas

Christmas commemorates the birth of a baby—an event recorded in the New Testament and prophesied about in Old Testament passages such as Isaiah 7:14. The name given to this baby was Jesus. The Gospel of Luke records the birth of Jesus.

And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go over to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” And they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in a manger. And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. (Luke 2:8–20)

Christmas Traditions

During Christmastime, many churches display nativity scenes. These exhibits show the newborn Jesus in a stable surrounded by various animals, shepherds, and Mary and Joseph. Such nativity scenes traditionally have also been displayed in public places (shopping centers, public schools, parks, etc.) in much of our Western world.

In addition to the overt Christian traditions, many have adopted non-religious traditions to celebrate Christmas. These traditions include decorating houses and buildings with lights, giving presents to each other, and a day dedicated to Christmas shopping at the end of November, Black Friday—among other traditions. Non-religious celebrations also incorporate an entire mythology about Santa Claus, his workshop elves, and gift-giving to children. Though many of these traditions have Christian roots, the Christmas holiday in Western countries is often devoid of Christian meaning.

Four Misconceptions About Christmas

The X Stands for Christ: Though the first Greek letter of this title (the letter chi) looks like an x in English, some have used it as an abbreviation for Christ, but there is no question that many use the X today for the very purpose of eliminating Christ.

Jeremiah 10 Forbids the Use of Christmas Trees: If a Christmas tree is ever elevated to the point where it becomes an idol or a stumbling block to worshiping the Lord, then it would be wrong. However, many people choose to use an evergreen tree in other ways.

Jesus Was Born on December 25: This is another issue that can sometimes turn into a heated discussion, but such argument is unnecessary. The fact is that we really do not know.

We Should Not Celebrate Christmas: While we are not commanded to celebrate the birth of Christ, we do see precedent in Scripture.

Genealogy of Jesus

Jesus is the Savior who was promised throughout history. The genealogy of Jesus in Matthew and in Luke show him as the descendant of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and eventually David—men to whom these prophecies were made. God promised Abraham that all nations would be blessed through his offspring, which was ultimately fulfilled in Jesus Christ (Galatians 3:7–9, 16).

By reading these genealogies, we also see that Jesus was a direct descendent of King David. Jesus’ genealogy is also a fulfillment of many Old Testament promises. The promised Messiah would be the descendant of David (2 Samuel 7:12–14) and would one day rule on David’s throne (Isaiah 9:6–7).

The Creator in the Manger

At Christmastime, we celebrate the day that the eternal Creator entered his creation. The Creator who stretched out the heavens was laid beneath them in a manger. The limitless Son of God took on human limitations, being born in the flesh. As a baby, Jesus depended on Joseph and Mary for care and nourishment. Yet the humility of his incarnation did not detract from the glory of his deity: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14).

Virgin Birth of Jesus

The virgin birth of Jesus is a miracle. God the Holy Spirit worked supernaturally in a human womb, and a child was conceived apart from a human father—a child who was truly and fully both man and God. With a human mother and God as his father, Jesus was the only God-man ever to exist.

The Christmas Star

The star mentioned in Matthew is not necessarily what we normally think of as a star. That is, it was not necessarily an enormous mass of hydrogen and helium gas powered by nuclear fusion. The Greek word translated star is aster (αστηρ), which is where we get the word astronomy. In the biblical conception of the word, a star is any luminous point of light in our night sky. This would certainly include our modern definition of a star, but it would also include the planets, supernovae, comets, or anything else that resembles a point of light.

Visit of the Magi

Many scholars believe the Prophet Daniel’s influence in the Babylonian and Persian empires led to the magi’s familiarity with the Jewish scriptures. Whether or not this is the case, the magi were being drawn by the God of the Jews to visit his Son in Israel.

What About Santa Claus?

Sadly, our culture has shifted its focus to dazzling decorations and away from a dazzling Savior. Commercialism has swallowed whatever Christmas used to be. Battles are fought over the very name of the holiday, and Santa Claus is embraced more freely than the infant Jesus. Santa is an icon in modern culture, and his image is used to sell everything from soda to sports cars. We can learn from God’s Word How should Christians view Santa Claus—in light of the true meaning of Christmas?

Is Christmas a Pagan Holiday?

The Church has often failed during the Christmas season because we rarely talk about the birth of Christ while explaining why he came. Whether Christmas happens to occur at the same time (or close to the same time) as a pagan holiday is irrelevant. There is nothing inherently wrong with celebrating a Christian holiday at the same time pagans celebrate (Colossians 2:16), especially if it gives us opportunities to present the gospel.

What should be of greater concern to Christians is the extent to which we have adopted some of the pagan practices during Christmastime. Some have gone overboard on this, and we should be cautious of making Christmas more about mythical beings like Santa, Rudolph, and so on than about the historical birth of Christ and, most importantly, why he came.

“War” on Christmas

Today, conflicts surrounding Christmas include whether it’s ok to say “Merry Christmas” or display nativity scenes in public places. There are even claims that Christmas was originally a pagan idea!

As the influence of secularists has grown, there has been an attack on Christmas. Even if Christians choose not to celebrate it, they should be at least equipped to defend the historicity of the account of Jesus coming to earth as recounted in the Bible and ready to tell others why he came and what that means for humanity.

Conclusion: The Real Meaning of Christmas

The true gift of Christmas is Christ—the Son of God, who chose to become one of us to effectively sacrifice himself for the atonement of our sins and to save us from a just, eternal punishment for Adam’s and our rejection of our Creator. We are blessed exceedingly by Jesus’ gift. Do we truly understand who Jesus is and what he did? Forget about all the secular Christmas hype, focus on what you are giving to Christ, what he gave to you, and worship him. The real reason for Christmas is the gift we have received from God, so we gratefully give back to him the worship he deserves and a life centered on him.

[seekfirstme]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2020. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: Have you read the news today - the "good news" of Jesus Christ, the Son of God and son of Mary who was born for us and for our salvation. The word gospel literally means good news! Jesus' birth in Bethlehem fulfilled the prophecy that the Messiah would descend from David and be born in David's city, Bethlehem (Isaiah 9:6-7, 11:1-2; Micah 5:2-4).

The first to hear the good news of the savior's birth were not the rulers and religious leaders of Israel who were robed in riches and power. The angels first came to those who were humble and ready to receive the newborn king who was born in poverty and was now lying in a manger made for animals. Just as God had chosen and anointed David, a lowly shepherd of Bethlehem to become the shepherd king of Israel, so Jesus, likewise chose the path of humility and lowliness in coming to Israel as the good shepherd king who would lay down his life for their sake and salvation. After the angels had sung their hymn of glory in the presence of the shepherds, the shepherds made haste to adore the newborn king and sing their hymn of glory as well.

Many of the early church fathers have written hymns and homilies in praise of the Incarnation. John the Monk, an 8th century writer, in his Hymn of the Nativity, sings of the great exchange in the mystery and wonder of the Incarnation - God becoming man in order to bring man to heaven:

Heaven and earth are united today, for Christ is born! Today God has come upon earth, and humankind gone up to heaven. Today, for the sake of humankind, the invisible one is seen in the flesh. Therefore let us glorify him and cry aloud: glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace bestowed by your coming, Savior: glory to you! Today in Bethlehem, I hear the angels: glory to God in the highest! Glory to him whose good pleasure it was that there be peace on earth! The Virgin is now more spacious than the heavens. Light has shone on those in darkness, exalting the lowly who sing like the angels: Glory to God in the highest! Beholding him [Adam] who was in God's image and likeness fallen through transgression, Jesus bowed the heavens and came down, without change taking up his dwelling in a virgin womb, that he might refashion Adam fallen in corruption, and crying out: glory to your epiphany, my Savior and my God! [Stichera (hymn) of the Nativity of the Lord]

Why was it necessary for the Word of God to become flesh? We needed a savior who could reconcile us with God. Throughout the ages Christians have professed the ancient Nicene Creed: "He became man for our sake and for the sake of our salvation." The eternal Word became flesh for us so he could offer his life as an atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world through the shedding of his blood on the cross. The Word became flesh to show us the infinite love and tender mercy of God for us sinners.

In the feast of Christmas we celebrate present realities - Jesus Christ our redeemer who reigns in heaven and who also lives and reigns in our hearts through the gift and working of the Holy Spirit. And we commemorate past events - the birth of the newborn Messiah King and his manifestation to Israel and to the gentile nations. We thank and bless God for the way in which he has saved us from the power of sin and the curse of death and destruction by sending his son to ransom us and give us pardon and abundant life through the gift and working of the Holy Spirit. Today we celebrate the birthday of our King and Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

God wants to fill our hearts anew with joy and gratitude for the greatest gift he could possibly give us - his beloved Son Jesus. What can we give thanks for in this great feast of the Incarnation? We can praise and thank God our Father for the fact that the Son of God freely and joyfully assumed a human nature in order to accomplish our salvation in it. Jesus came to release the captives from slavery to sin and to open the gates of paradise once again. This day the Holy Spirit invites us to make haste - as the shepherds of Bethlehem did - to adore Jesus our King and Messiah. The Lord Jesus Christ is our eternal good shepherd who guides and cares for us unceasingly and who gives us abundant everlasting life and union with the triune God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

This day the whole community of heaven joins with all believers of good will on earth in a jubilant song of praise for the good news proclaimed by the angels on Christmas eve: Behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people, for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord (Luke 2:10-11).

The joy of Christmas is not for a day or a season. It is an eternal joy, a joy that no one can take from us because it is the joy of Jesus Christ himself made present in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who dwells within us (see Romans 5:2-5). The Lord gives us a supernatural joy which no pain nor sorrow can diminish, and which neither life nor death can take away. Do you know the joy of your salvation in Jesus Christ?

"Lord our God, with the birth of your Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, your glory breaks on the world. As we celebrate his first coming, give us a foretaste of the joy that you will grant us when the fulness of his glory has filled the earth."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2020.

DIS-HONORABLE MENTION

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news, announcing salvation, and saying to Zion, ‘Your God is King!’ ” —Isaiah 52:7

The Good News of Christmas is: “A Savior has been born to you” (Lk 2:11). “Your Savior comes” (Is 62:11). “When the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, He saved us” (Ti 3:4-5). If Jesus had not been born, our future would be bleak, our present a desperate escape attempt, and our past an even heavier burden. If Jesus had not been born, fear, resentment and depression would reign supreme. If Jesus had not been born, we could not stand to live but would be afraid to die.

At Christmas midnight Mass, I looked at the congregation from my place behind the altar. One young girl was trapped in fornication. Two young men were in a homosexual perversion. A middle-aged man had destroyed his family through alcoholism. An elderly woman was mentally ill. A couple was talking divorce after thirty years of marriage. This was a sampling of the midnight Mass crowd. They desperately needed to be saved. Despite this, none of their fellow parishioners had told them about Jesus the Savior. They were given Christmas carols, Christmas presents, and holiday wishes, but Jesus was only given “honorable mention.”

Tell a broken world about Jesus this Christmas. Accept Him as Lord and Savior. “Christ our Savior is born!”

Prayer:  Jesus, open my lips to tell a lost and hurting world about Your saving love for them.

Promise:  “The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us, and we have seen His glory: the glory of an only Son coming from the Father, filled with enduring love.” —Jn 1:14

Praise:  “Therefore the Lord Himself will give you this sign: the virgin shall be with Child, and bear a Son, and shall name Him Immanuel” (Is 7:14). Merry Christmas!

Reference:  

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for One Bread, One Body covering the period from December 1, 2020 through January 31, 2021. Most Reverend Joseph R. Binzer, Auxiliary Bishop, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio January 14, 2020"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[frederickwiddowson]

Luke 2:8-20 comments: the shepherds visit the infant Jesus

Luke 2:8 ¶  And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9  And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 10  And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. 11  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. 12  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. 13  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 14  Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. 15  And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. 16  And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. 17 And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. 18 And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds. 19  But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. 20  And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

 Some writers, quoting sources like the Greek philosopher Aristotle from hundreds of years before and the Jewish Babylonian Talmud much later, insist that shepherds held a very low social status in the Palestine of the first century. Perhaps, as common laborers they did but let us remember that the Jews would remember King David was a shepherd boy who likened God to a shepherd in my late father’s favorite Bible passage, Psalm, chapter 23. Keep in mind that the people in verse 18 wondered at the message the shepherds delivered and the text does not say they were shocked that the “lowly” shepherds were involved.  

 If you take this account at face value as I do you will notice that the appearance or angel of the Lord, who is also Christ, shows Himself as He is also lying in a feeding trough as a baby. An angel is a presence, an appearance of someone who is someplace else physically.

 Isaiah 63:9  In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old.

 Judges 2:1 ¶  And an angel of the LORD came up from Gilgal to Bochim, and said, I made you to go up out of Egypt, and have brought you unto the land which I sware unto your fathers; and I said, I will never break my covenant with you.

 Acts 27:23  For there stood by me this night the angel of God, whose I am, and whom I serve,

 And this verse, understanding that even typically connects two things that are the same or similar. First, for the definition of even.

 Genesis 6:17a  And, behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life...

 And now this verse for my point…

 Galatians 4:14  And my temptation which was in my flesh ye despised not, nor rejected; but received me as an angel of God, even as Christ Jesus.

 Notice how Christ, talking about Himself can show that He could be in two places at one time.

 John 3:13  And no man hath ascended up to heaven, but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of man which is in heaven.

 And even those who trust Him.

 Ephesians 2:6  And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus:

 This, of course, if the angel of the Lord here is not Gabriel who has previously been given the task of being the spiritual world’s version of John the Baptist, heralding the first arrival of Christ.

 Christ is the long-awaited Messiah of the Jews, Saviour of mankind.

 John 4:25  The woman saith unto him, I know that Messias cometh, which is called Christ: when he is come, he will tell us all things.

 Notice in verses 13 and 14 the angels are not singing as in Christian mythology. They are saying and what they are saying is not conditional as in peace to men of good will. They are saying good will toward men. This is not conditional. This is God’s peace being presented. See in the following the peace between Jew and Gentile and between both as the Church and God.

 Ephesians 2:11 ¶  Wherefore remember, that ye being in time past Gentiles in the flesh, who are called Uncircumcision by that which is called the Circumcision in the flesh made by hands; 12  That at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world: 13  But now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ.

     14 ¶  For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us; 15  Having abolished in his flesh the enmity, even the law of commandments contained in ordinances; for to make in himself of twain one new man, so making peace; 16  And that he might reconcile both unto God in one body by the cross, having slain the enmity thereby: 17  And came and preached peace to you which were afar

off, and to them that were nigh. 18  For through him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father. 19  Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God; 20  And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone; 21  In whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord: 22  In whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit.

Mankind is at war with God. He ignores or fights against God’s standard of righteousness in the moral aspects of the Law given to Moses and the admonitions of Christ, Paul, Peter, John, and James. Mankind is malicious, murderous, evil, and vile in his affections and his plans. He is constantly trying to change God’s plans. He tries to cheat death desiring to live as long as the men and women before the Flood of Noah in this sinful flesh, change and destroy the natural world trying to place his own twisted sense of order on it, and in some cases even deny that the physical condition of gender and age have any bearing on him or her. Mankind is constantly trying to control that which he can have no control over and claim to know that which his finite man cannot know.

 But, God made peace with us. He did all the work and all we have to do is to receive His mercy, the mercy of a God dealing with a rebellious mob. There is no chance of defeating Him and we would not be able to exist for another moment where we able to do that as He is the author of every heartbeat, every cell function, and every breath. We are fools to fight our Creator.

 So, He entered our space in physical flesh like ours and suffered the consequences of our rebellion, death and agony, and then rose again for our justification before Himself having preached to the spirits in Hell and taken Paradise to Heaven. As in a medieval conflict, the herald rides up and offers us peace, a peace we only need to receive, the parts of all parties having been satisfied by God. This is the only offer you’ll get, the only chance for your king’s mercy.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 1 July 1838

5 40

12 ½

Rainy morning F64 ½° at 6 am by 6 ½ nearly fair or merely damp and small rain – good beds and comfortable last night – off from Langon (hotel de la poste) at 7 ¼ left 5/. with the maitre de poste for Pierre at Bordeaux – Langon small town – the people standing in group as if a market day – Damp rainy disagreeable morning at 7 ¼ - asleep – at Bazas (1 3/4p.) at 8 ½ - stopt at bon Pasteur hotel to breakfast – was beginning to write but breakfast soon ready – Rained from setting out till afternoon – A- and I out at 10 to see the church, formerly cathedral, in the picturesque Italian-like, arcaded grande place la fête de St. Jean – a weed or herb common here  [?] into crossed over peoples’ doors – very handsome old gothic church the top part of west end modern and 3 chiefly sculptured west doorways the history of our saviour – in the style of Reims cathedral – the handsome interior plain and clean – the people at high mass – organ west end of nave – one side aisle and 1 aisle of little chapels – no transepts – 5 massive-round columns in the nave up to the organ, and then 6 clustered columns up to the apse, so that the nave is of 2 periods – very picturesque little ville –walked about while A- sketched the west front – we had breakfasted well and been very comfortable but the woman charged 5/. and on my quietly observing afterwards to the man that I had never paid so much for breakfast not even in Paris – he said it was 4/. for breakfast and 1/. for the room (double bedded room) in which we breakfasted – things dearer here than in Paris! – Road rough pavé last stage and this – the parterre quite cut up, so much rain lately – country hedged like England – no heath – all the ground in cultivation – at 11 40 the amphitheatric line of hill en face, and right and left as far as one can see, covered with wood – at 11 43 cross the little Ciron brook and enter the plantation of pins à resine (Scotchy fir) the trees in great numerous cut (little more than the bark cut 3 or 4 or 5ft. in length from the bottom) the piece as it were shaved off, so as to let the sap (turpentine) gush our; and here ‘on entre dans les immenses plaines des lands qui se me présentement que l’image de la stérilité et de la tristesse; quelques champs dérobés à ces landes offent seuls à l’habitant laborieux une modique nourriture’ midi. p. 49. Itinèraire de France – and here along the road-side charcoal-rings 6 or 8 yards diameter – the charcoal burnt in a conical heap in the middle covered over with sand, and, when sufficiently burnt, raked out and placed in a circle all round, so as to form the rings mentioned – the charcoal sent to Langon for the six bateaux à vapeur that ply on the Garonne – white sandy soil the firs when largeish seem mossy – a little cut-leaved oak intermixed with the firs – the commerce of Bazas is in wood and charcoal – at 12 10 en sortant from the fire-forest, a little heathery common (left) then rye (right) 1st we have seen cut – bad road – the wood pavé all in holes – at 12 25 very bad for ¼ hour – acacia hedges roadside – Captieux at 12 ½ picturesque little white, red-tile-roofed, scattered town – the blue clad men and crimson petticoated women of Bazas and here very picturesque – 5 minutes from Captieux white sand and heather, and fir and oak forest all round at a little distance – still bad wooden road – heather and whins on the ground clear of wood – From Captieux to Trévers (Porteau

not correspond with

SH:7/ML/E/21/0136

supprimé as a poste aux chevaux) great deal of heathery land, and at 1 ¼ the covering of the nutty way seems a mixture of black bog earth with white sand – obliged to go foots’ pace – if we went off the starting boards, the carriage wheels would sink up to the nave in sand of the parterre – at 1 ¾ rough stone pavé again after another piece of this board-road ‘planchéiée avec des madriers on des poutres équarries et assemblées comme des planchers’ Itinéraire de France midi. p.51 – these pieces of timber 8 or 9ft. long – mud and water gushing out from them at every joining as we pass along – at 1 48 leave the Gironde and enter the department of the Landes and have a bit of tolerable going on the parterre the sand now hard enough to bear us – at 2 5 la poste at Trevers (1 3/4p.) a large barn-like stable with a 3 roomed wood cabin (cahutte) at the back and a little bit of corn land in the midst of heather and wood – better road from here – a new stone pavé in progress and the road newly planted on each side with poplar, acacia and platanus – bad bits of road now and then – pulled up and not yet pavé at all – still heather brackens and pine forest – at 2 ¾ a deepish drain shews yellow-ochre coloured sand at the depth of a foot or 2 – all this stage and the last patches of rye every now and then near the picturesque little farmsteads, a good deal of it cut – now at 3 5 road bad again but commonly bad – a rubbled road, worn in consequence of the great quantity of rain – Roquefort at the poste at 3 ¾ (1 3/4p. from Trevers) not the place celebrated for its cheese – handsome new stone 3 arch bridge over the picturesque little river Douze just before arriving at the post, and hill – alight for a minute or 2 to look back upon the picturesque town with its old little chateau in the midst – at the top of the hill (left) new looking road to Tarbes – our road is now a rubble-road – not paved – and tho’ wet and worn, it is a godsend after the holy stone pavé and starting planks that we have come over – our road lies chiefly thro’ forest of fir, and oak, on these 2 mixed – row of trees on each side of the road – now good, large, handsome, old oaks (many of them having been once over truncated) and now fine, handsome (beautiful) large Spanish chestnuts in full flower – at 4 ¾ took up Dr. Léon merchant on mineral waters very interesting – at 5 Caloy a single house farmstead – From Roquefort to Caloy most interesting drive today – the road generally below the level of the forest which slopes up [?] on each side – the forest, too, the most interesting and continuous tho’ every now and then broken as it had been more or less all today by picturesque little farmsteads and patches of rye – rye in foot broad ridges with foot broad spaces between – off from Caloy at 5 10 along straight line of poplar avenue reaching as far as one can see, and in fact reaching to Pont de Marsan – the ground clear of wood, but covered with brackens, for some distance on each side the road – all the amphitheatric line of hill in the distance en face seems forest – rubble-road – cut up – but very fair considering the great quantity of rain – it has rained almost incessantly (they say) for the last 3 weeks – They said at Langon, we should probably sleep at Mont de Marsan – they better knew the state of the road than I did – it seems they sent word from there by courier de poste to tell the people at the postes on the road that we were coming .:. we have not had to wait for horses anywhere – It takes the malle poste 48 hours to go  go the 26 ¾ p. from Bordeaux to Bayonne – at Mont de Marsan at 5 55 hotel des ambassadors and du roi de Naples who was here 1 May 1830. very nice hotel – the courtyard very pretty with creepers etc. growing against the external gallery against the house – very nice people – veuve and her son and daughter – out soon after 6 for ¾ hour – peeped into the modern  good church – then to the 8 good Bains du nord very picturesque midway the picturesque bank of the now muddy Douze, and then immediately crossed the picturesque wood bridge over this little river to the Pépinière Départemental – very pretty so interesting (determined to breakfast here tomorrow, and see it in the morning for instructions’ sake as to the different trees) dinner at 7 – soup and salmon – mutton rouleau piqué and mutton cutlets, and fricandeau de veau, and a large roast fowl au cusson – potatoes au naturel (with their skins on served in a napkin as everywhere here nowadays) and good pears and 4 most excellent ortolans (which last made our dinner 5/. a piece instead of 4/. well worth it) besides an ample dessert gateau de riz (good) biscuits and macaroons sweetmeat, and honey as I had desired Roquefort being famous for it (and it is very good) and strawberries and cherries – by far the most bountiful dinner we have had and by far the best – the ortolans would have satisfied the veriest epicure – never ate ortolans so parfaits before – like marrow dissolving in one’s mouth – sent from here to Paris – killed by holding their little heads in brandy, then picking and packing them in vine-leaves – (sent to table here on a silver skewer) a thin crisp bit of toast between each, and each wrapt in a thin leaf of lard, and even that a shred of vine-leaf – fed in the dark in a cage on millet – cost 2 or 3 sols a piece at 1st but ¾ die in the feeding, and if they are not taken just at the moment and cooked (roasted) au point (to ½ a turn) they are spoilt – the murier very like the ortolan – rather smaller and never so fat as the ortolans fed here – aux eaux the ortolans will be muriers – diner downstairs in a private salle à manger and came upstairs at 8 – sat with A- in her room talking till 9 – then (having had Josephine about 9 ¾ or 10) till 11 55 wrote out the whole of today – Rainy day till near 5 pm afterwards fair and finish – F63 1/2° at 11 66 pm A- right today I shall take no notice when she gets wrong again and core [care] for and think of it less and less by degrees

[forceprojecdin]

I’m Being Torn Apart By The Last Jedi (But That’s Why It’s Good Art)

Well, Star Wars fans are being torn in half. Half of us a torn by what we feel on the inside, and we’re divided in half on whether we approve of director Rian Johnson’s (now obvious) attempt to tear us apar (in the best way art can). 56% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes as of opening day, but 96% critical approval. Interesting. Very interesting. I’m not going to ramble on. This will be short. This is really about one thing and one thing only. Would Luke have done what he did? This is really the one essential divider that we need to talk about. SPOILERS AHEAD The Luke Division The most profound thing I can say is half way through the film I wanted to let go of Star Wars because of what Luke did to Ben. 2ND SPOILER WARNING He thought about Killing his nephew Ben, because in reading Ben’s mind, and perhaps seeing the future, he saw that young Ben would essentially grow up to be a Hitler. I don’t use that word lightly. I believe it’s needed to make the point on why Luke contemplated murdering his nephew to spare the future horrors wrought upon billions. Ben Solo wasn’t the “heir apparent to Vader,” as Snoke claimed. He was to be more of maybe the heir to he or Palpatine. So what would Luke do if he saw that future? I’ll keep my entire argument to my own personal viewpoint. I can only makes sense of this in a personal way. I wanted to let go of Star Wars because of what Luke (even just contemplated) doing to Ben. That is unheard of for me! I was a true believer, who never faltered, even with Jar Jar and sandy love dialogue!   That wasn’t the Luke I grew up idolizing for throwing down his violent laser sword and saving his Father, Vader, out of love and a non-violent strategic move. To sacrifice himself to the Emperor, to force his Father to have to make a choice to save him. It worked. That’s great metaphor for the strategic power of non-violence. Luke was like my pop fictional MLK or something.  Then we get to that moment in the film where Luke ignites his green Lightsaber, contemplating killing his nephew in his sleep. No! I shouted internally. That is not Luke! No, no, no, no, no, no, nooooooo! That’s not Luke. My Luke is perfect. Damn you! But then I realized, Luke has always been perfect to me in the most profound way -  I wanted to grow up to be perfect like him. That is an utterly profound effect to have on a child. Utterly. Alas, I grew up to have my own real failures. I didn't want to see this version Luke, but I needed to - I needed to have a myth that could help me to face my own failures and learn from them. That’s the power of myth, isn’t it? From sitting around campfires thousands of years ago to teach the tribe useful lessons, to sitting in movie theatres today. Pleas read Joseph Campbell, but I digress. Essentially, the power of myth is more important than than the power of Star Wars is. Simple logic. Star Wars needs to be myth, myth doesn’t need to be Star wars.    Again, half way through the film I wanted to let go of Star Wars because of what Luke did to Ben. Then, by the end, as a middle aged man, I realized it wasn't what I wanted in this myth, but what I truly needed.  And I had to accept that about Luke. About myself. Like what Yoda said to Luke in the film, that it’s our “failures that are our greatest teachers”.  So continue I will, the process of reflecting upon my middle-aged failures - in the hope that I will be able to work towards them changing me into a better person. Just don’t take it all too seriously. Stay light and playful about it, laugh it off, like Yoda! Now, that’s all I really need to say. I could write a whole book on every detail of this film, but I am too lazy! Nah, thats just not my job. Someone else will do that. My job (as a painter and singer) is to get personal about my own expressions. But here are a few random musings that I thought were significant and important enough, to temporarily overcome my laziness: The Child From The Stable The child from a stable who uses The Force on the broom represents the new hope of the new world Rey will help build. Interesting to note the archetypal power here, Jesus was born in a manger. Very apt for a Christmas movie release! Anyhow, The child now has the chance to help build a better world. But be warned, this child too might fail. But that will never be the end of the story for any generation, because like the Christ figure, there will be no final victory for evil as long as people are willing to sacrifice themselves out of love and compassion for the suffering - for the greater good. That’s what Luke did (again), in the end. Oh btw, I’m not being religious here, I’m talking about the poetic symbolism of the Jesus figure, which is essentially compassion for all who are suffering. Again, refer to Campbell on that. A Side Note On Its Spirituality This is important. Star Wars is at its best when it also makes relevant spiritual statements for a globalised world - which George Lucas proved was hungry for some sort of spiritual meaning. Yoda says "There is nothing in the books that Rey does not already possess." This is a very New Spiritualiy idea (intentional or not), that in the real world, challenges the idea that one needs a Church/Institution to find God (Note: this does not intend to mean that one can not find God there, only the notion that it is not the only pace to find God). God/The Force/Creator/Whatever is in everything. So the ultimate conclusion is thus that everyone has it all in them already. All the time. One just needs to listen. All is One. This movie is reflecting movement in the real world to evolve from elitist religion to democratic spirituality. One does not have to give a donation from a pew to support an institution to be connected to the Creator. The Creator is already inside you. Just sit. Cross your legs. Breathe. Listen. One does not have to say a creed, to support a system and power structure (and jobs for those in power), to be with God. God is inside you. Like Luke says to Rey, for anyone to think that only the elite have the light, is vanity. Utter vanity at worst, a selfish way to maintain a power structure to stay employed, at best. I Will Thusly Conclude.... .... with this quote, from this article: “The Last Jedi feels like a movie young George Lucas, passionate and bold, would have made. It feels like a proper Star Wars movie by refusing to feel like a Star Wars movie.” But you have to understand, a young George Lucas wouldn’t have cared about what an older George Lucas would have thought in terms of “The Rules.”. George Lucas said this film was “beautifully made”, btw.    I do hope you enjoyed. These are just the ramblings of someone who is infinitely fascinated by the ever elusive and mysterious power of art.  20th century American conceptual and abstract artist Marcel Duchamp famously said, “I consider taste – bad or good – the greatest enemy of art.” Rian Johnson has taken our tastes and ripped them to shreds, to give his work life. So bravo Mr. Johnson, I believe you have made a real work of art. You have torn us apart in ever way that a Star Wars film probably could, but you have shown us how to put ourselves back together again. I may never forgive you for what you did to my precious Luke, but I will certainly try to be a better old man because you did.   - Din P.S. If I truly have any real let down, it’s that the theme of non-violence has been abandoned. The theme that Lucas was setting up when he had Luke throw down his saber at the end of Return Of The Jedi, proclaiming. Lucas pushed this point further in a season 2 episode of The Clone Wars, when the Lurmen Chief, Tee Watt Kaa told Anakin, “Only when the Jedi lay down their arms, will they be true peacekeepers.” In the end, this still may be the most tasteless and powerfully challenging statement of all. People would lose their poodoo if Jedi no longer used Lightsabers. ADDENDUM:  Woah WAIT, Luke totally used non-violence at the end! He didn't fight Kylo! He didn't actually use his saber! Meditate on this, I will. P.P.S. I may have rambled on a little.

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

14th December >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Matthew 17:9-13 for Saturday. Second Week of Advent: ‘Elijah has come already’.

Saturday. Second Week of Advent

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Matthew 17:9-13

Elijah has come already and they did not recognise him

As they came down from the mountain the disciples put this question to Jesus, ‘Why do the scribes say that Elijah has to come first?’ ‘True;’ he replied ‘Elijah is to come to see that everything is once more as it should be; however, I tell you that Elijah has come already and they did not recognise him but treated him as they pleased; and the Son of Man will suffer similarly at their hands.’ The disciples understood then that he had been speaking of John the Baptist.

Gospel (USA)

Matthew 17:9a, 10-13

Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him.

As they were coming down from the mountain, the disciples asked Jesus, “Why do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?” He said in reply, “Elijah will indeed come and restore all things; but I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him but did to him whatever they pleased. So also will the Son of Man suffer at their hands.” Then the disciples understood that he was speaking to them of John the Baptist.

Reflections (8)

(i) Saturday, Second Week of Advent  

On the mount of transfiguration, the disciples saw Jesus in conversation with Moses and Elijah. In today’s gospel reading, the disciples are coming down the mountain and the disciples ask Jesus about Elijah and the tradition that he would come to prepare God’s people for the coming of the Messiah, the coming of the Lord. If Jesus is Lord and Messiah, where is Elijah, they wonder. Jesus informs his disciples that, in reality, John the Baptist was the promised Elijah. Furthermore, Jesus declares that the fate that John suffered, execution by Herod Antipas, anticipates the fate that he will suffer, ‘the Son of Man will suffer similarly’. It must have been difficult for Jesus’ disciples to hear him talk about his coming suffering, having just seen him in glory on the mount of transfiguration. Yet, that vision they had assured them that there would be glory for Jesus beyond his suffering and death. What people would do to Jesus would be reversed by God. God the Father would bring his Son through death to a new and glorious life. What God did for Jesus, he can do for us all. God can bring new life out of our own experience of death, whether it is the death at the end of our earthly lives, or the various experiences of death and loss that we have in the course of our earthly lives. If we keep entrusting ourselves to God in those dark times of loss, as Jesus did, then we will find God to be trustworthy, as Jesus did. God is always at work bringing new life out of our various deaths, which is why we can always be people of great hope, and hope is the virtue that is associated in a special way with this season of Advent.

And/Or

(ii) Saturday, Second Week of Advent

We hear a great deal about John the Baptist in the Season of Advent. He has been rightly referred to as the great Advent Saint. He features particularly in the opening two weeks of Advent. After that, the other great Advent Saint, Mary, the mother of Jesus, begins to feature more prominently in the church’s liturgy. In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus identifies John the Baptist with the prophet Elijah. There had been an expectation that Elijah would come just before the Messiah would come. Jesus identifies John as that Elijah figure. Yet, by the time Jesus speaks in this morning’s gospel reading from Matthew John had already been beheaded. In the words of the gospel reading, ‘they treated him as they pleased’. Matthew presents Jesus in our gospel reading foreseeing his own death in the death of John. Both were prophets who disturbed certain vested interests and both paid the ultimate price. Even as we approach the feast of the birth of Jesus we are being reminded of how Jesus’ life would end. The fate of both John and Jesus reminds us that proclaiming the gospel of God in word and deed brings its own cost. It will not always be well received. That is why, if we are to be courageous in our living of the faith, we need to keep asking for the Lord’s help. A verse from today’s responsorial psalm would be a fitting prayer, ‘O Lord, rouse up your might, O Lord, come to our help’.

And/Or

(iii) Saturday, Second Week of Advent

In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus identifies John the Baptist with the prophet Elijah. It was believed that Elijah would come just before the coming of the long awaited Messiah. Jesus says of John the Baptist, the long awaited Elijah figure, that ‘they did not recognize him, but treated him as they pleased’. The experience of John the Baptist would become the experience of Jesus himself, as Jesus says in that reading, ‘the Son of Man will suffer similarly at their hands’. Both John and Jesus proclaimed the values of God’s kingdom and both of them suffered greatly for doing so. Even as we draw nearer to celebrating the joyful event of the birth of Jesus we are being reminded of the cross that awaited this child. I have a print of a painting of the birth of Jesus by the German artist Sieger Köderand at the bottom of the painting there is an image of the adult Christ under the beam of the cross looking upon the baby. At Christmas we celebrate the good news that God so loved the world that he gave his only Son. This morning’s gospel reminds us that God’s giving was a giving-unto-death, a giving that cost not less than everything. It is this costly gift that we open our hearts to receive anew at this time of the year, so that we can give to others as God has given to us.

And/Or

(iv) Saturday, Second Week of Advent

There was a Jewish tradition in the time of Jesus that the day of the Lord’s coming would be preceded by the coming of a messenger who would prepare the way for the Lord’s coming. According to the prophet Malachi, the last book of the Hebrew Bible, that messenger would be the prophet Elijah who would come from heaven to where he had ascended many centuries before. That is the tradition Jesus’ disciples give expression to in their question to Jesus at the beginning of today’s gospel reading, ‘Why do the scribes say that Elijah has to come first?’ This question reflects an objection to Jesus by the Jewish scribes, ‘if Jesus is God’s anointed one, why has he not been preceded by Elijah, as the Scriptures say he will be?’ Jesus replies by saying that Elijah has come; he is none other than John the Baptist, but people have not recognized John as the messenger of God, the Elijah figure sent before the Lord’s anointed one. Jesus draws attention to the human failure to recognize the messengers God sends. We live in the period after the death and resurrection of Jesus and the risen Lord is constantly sending us his messengers. We too can fail to recognize them. Advent is a time when we are invited to become more attuned to the various ways that the Lord comes to us. Very often he comes to us in ways that forces us to rethink who we are and where we stand. We can be tempted to reject the Lord’s messenger as John the Baptist was rejected by many of his contemporaries. Our resistance can sometimes be a sign that the Lord is trying to break through to us in some new way.

And/Or

(v) Saturday, Second Week of Advent

This morning’s gospel reading makes reference to Jesus and his disciples coming down the mountain. The mountain in question is the Mount of Transfiguration. The disciples have had a wonderful experience of Jesus in all his glory on that mountain, so wonderful that Peter wanted to prolong the experience, ‘Let us build three tents...’ As they come down the mountain, the mood changes somewhat. In response to the disciples’ question about the coming of Elijah before the coming of the Messiah, Jesus identifies John the Baptist as that expected Elijah figure. Jesus goes on to say with regard to John the Baptist, ‘they did not recognize him but treated him as they pleased’. Jesus makes reference there to the recent beheading of John the Baptist by Herod Antipas. He also declares that how John was treated is a forewarning of how he himself will be treated, ‘the Son of Man will suffer similarly at their hands’. After experiencing Jesus’ glory on the mountain the disciples are now faced with the looming reality of Jesus’ violent death. As we are about to enter the third week of Advent and draw closer to the feast of the birth of Jesus, we are being reminded that the child in the manger, the son of Mary, would become the Son of Man who die on a Roman cross because of his faithfulness to the work that God gave him to do. At Christmas we celebrate God’s giving of his Son to us. This morning’s gospel reminds us that this giving was a giving unto death. As the fourth evangelist expresses it, ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’.

And/Or

(vi) Saturday, Second Week in Advent

In the weeks prior to the feast of Christmas John the Baptist features prominently. In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus refers to John the Baptist without mentioning him by name. The disciples ask Jesus about the Jewish tradition that the prophet Elijah will come before the coming of God’s anointed one. This tradition is based on a text in the prophet Malachi, ‘I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me… I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes’. In the gospel reading Jesus declares that Elijah has already come and they treated him as they pleased, which is a clear reference to the recent execution of John the Baptist. Jesus sees in what happened to John a sign of what will happen to him, ‘the Son of Man will suffer similarly at their hands’. We are about to celebrate the birth of Jesus and prior to that we will read the gospel about the birth of John the Baptist. However, this morning’s gospel reading refers to the death of both John the Baptist and Jesus. We are being reminded that we cannot separate the birth of John and Jesus from their death. The cross casts its shadow over the crib of Bethlehem. When we look at the baby in the crib, we cannot but call to mind the good shepherd who laid down his life for his flock, the Son of Man who came not to be served but to serve and to give his life for all. It is that same self-giving love of Jesus that we celebrate at every Eucharist and that is given to us anew at every Eucharist. As Paul reminds us, as often as we eat this bread and drink this cup we proclaim the Lord’s death.We are sent from the Eucharist to live what we have proclaimed, to give what we have received.

And/Or

(vii) Saturday, Second Week in Advent

When Jesus says in today’s gospel reading, in response to a question of his disciples, that ‘Elijah has come already’, he is referring to John the Baptist. He was the Elijah figure, the prophet whom the Jewish people expected to come just prior to the coming of the Messiah. Jesus says of John the Baptist that ‘they did not recognize him but treated him as they pleased’. By this stage in Jesus’ ministry, John the Baptist had been beheaded by the ruler of Galilee, Herod Antipas. Jesus is saying that people did not appreciate who John the Baptist really was; he was indeed the prophet who was expected to come just before the Messiah. Because they did not recognize him for who he was, they treated him shamefully. Jesus was very aware that the fate of John the Baptist would be his own fate too. Many people would fail to recognize who Jesus really was, would fail to appreciate his true significance, and, as a result, they would do to Jesus what they please, treating him shamefully. The failure to appreciate others, to recognize their true significance, often leads to their being treated badly. Treating others with respect begins with the recognition of their full significance and dignity before God. How we see others will often impact on how we relate to them. Today’s gospel reading suggests that the way people see others can be very limited, and, so how they treat them can leave a lot to be desired. The gospels keep challenging us to refine our seeing, so that we see others in all their God-given dignity and relate to them accordingly.

And/Or

(viii) Saturday, Second Week in Advent

Today’s gospel reading from Matthew follows on immediately after the story of the transfiguration of Jesus, in which the disciples saw Moses and Elijah speaking with the transfigured Jesus on the mountain. As they come down the mountain, the disciples ask Jesus a question about Elijah, whom they have just seen with Jesus. According to the Jewish Scriptures, Elijah was to return to prepare the way for the Messiah. If Jesus is the Messiah, where is Elijah, they wonder? In response, Jesus identifies John the Baptist with Elijah; John is the prophet who was to come to prepare the way for God’s anointed one. By this time in Jesus’ ministry John the Baptist had been executed by Herod Antipas, and Jesus now announces that he will experience the very same fate. Having witnessed Jesus in all his glory as Son of God on the mountain, it must have been difficult for the disciples to hear Jesus speak about himself as the Son of Man who must suffer as John did. As we approach the feast of Christmas we are being reminded that the baby in the crib became the crucified Son of Man, and that the wood of the manger points ahead to the wood of the cross. Mary’s child was, indeed, God’s loving gift to humanity. ‘God so loved the world that he gave his only Son’. The adult Jesus would, in turn, give himself completely to humanity, out of love, ‘No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends’. The same divine love which we celebrate at Christmas is celebrated again on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Both feasts, Christmas and Easter, call on us to share with each other the love which we have so abundantly received from God through his Son.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  revmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.