#order of poor clares

[fuzzysparrow]

Saint Francis of Assisi

Saint Francis of Assisi is a well-known name in the Western world. He was the topic of numerous paintings between the 14th and 17th centuries, although his popularity has since dwindled. Most people only know Saint Francis’ name or regard him as a saint that liked animals. After looking at Saint Francis’ life in detail, it is clear he was much more than an animal enthusiast. Giovanni di Pietro…

[stjohncapistrano67]

A medieval Catholic religious painting of St. Claire of Assisi. Founder of the Poor Claires. I don't know who the artist is.

[shy-actress]

Hello! Blessed Sunday everyone! I am new here :) Here is a picture of a Poor Clare nun (my favourite order)!

[hardly-an-escape]

Bleach | Dream/Hob | 1067 words | rated G for @domaystic day 07: stained clothes

tags: retired Dream, laundry mishaps, tooth rotting fluff, religious Hob Gadling (but only incidentally), Dream is learning how to human, Hob Gadling is a good boyfriend

Hob looks mournfully at the sweater in his hands and gives the spot another little scrub. It’s futile. He knows it’s futile. He’s been doing his own laundry for about a hundred years by now, after all. Still, he rubs halfheartedly at the spot, just one more time. Just in case.

You never know, do you. Miracles still happen. Some of them could be laundry-related miracles, possibly. There’s probably a patron saint of doing the wash. Hob casts his mind wildly back to catechism classes of centuries past. Veronica, maybe? The story with the veil? Or Clare of Assisi – had the Poor Clares been laundresses or is he thinking of a different order? He sighs and offers a quick prayer to both of them. Just in case.

He may not have been to church in a month and a half, and he hasn’t been Catholic since the 16th century, but every little bit helps. He sighs again and scrubs at the bleach stain, which doesn’t look back at him accusingly so much as it simply exists, accusingly, on the sleeve of Dream’s softest, most favorite black cardigan.

The front door of their flat bangs open and he hears the jingle of keys and the thump of Dream’s shoes being deposited on the boot tray.

“I’m back! They didn’t have the tea we usually buy,” Dream’s voice calls down the hall. “So I got Barry’s instead. Is that alright? I couldn’t remember if you like that brand or not. Why are there so many kinds of tea, Hob? I stood there looking at the shelf for ten minutes. You’d think at some point humanity would have said, oh, I think we have enough kinds of tea now, but –” he trails off as he begins to put the shopping away, his dear, deep voice disappearing in the rustle of shopping bags and the rattle of cabinet doors. 

Hob walks slowly down the hallway from the airing cupboard to the kitchen, sweater held in both hands before him, feeling like nothing so much as a man carrying the body of a beloved pet cat to its owner.

It isn’t that Dream will be angry – far from it, in fact. Dream will be, as he always is, endearingly grateful for the fact that Hob does his laundry, as he is for all the little caretaking tasks that Hob has taken on as Dream learns to be human. It’s just that now, as he learns to be human, Dream’s emotions lie so close to the surface. He feels everything with the depth and intensity of a child: pride when he successfully does the shopping, pain when he stubs a toe or burns a finger on the kettle.

Disappointment, when something goes wrong. Sadness, at a loss or a failure.

Hob has watched him weep over a broken teacup and crow with utter joy after winning a game of cards. And this was his best sweater, his softest, most favorite cardigan, one of the first pieces of clothing that had truly been his. A cardigan Dream had chosen, thoughtfully, in the department store; not just stolen or adopted by osmosis from Hob’s wardrobe. Which now sports an accusing, unmissable bleach stain right on the upper side of the left sleeve.

Dream pauses in his activity when Hob appears in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, seeing the look on Hob’s face. “What happened? Are you hurt? I can’t take you to A&E, I’m not allowed to drive the car yet. Hob? What’s wrong?”

“It’s your sweater,” Hob says dismally, holding it up for inspection. “It’s got bleach on it.”

Dream makes an adorable, sad little noise and gathers up the cardigan, cradling it like a wounded animal.

“I don’t know how it happened,” Hob says, not meeting his gaze. “I did that load of towels and socks yesterday, I must’ve spilled some bleach on the edge of the washer when I added it, and I guess the sleeve got dragged through it somehow when I put the colds in this morning, and I am so sorry, love, I know it’s your favorite and I will buy you a new one,” he rushes on, “I will buy you six identical sweaters so this never happens again, I –”

“Hob.”

Dream’s voice can still, at times, attain a certain measure of its former power and gravitas, through mere timbre alone. Hob’s eyes immediately snap up to meet his gaze. Dream’s eyes are huge and blue and watery and human and still the most beautiful thing Hob has ever seen in his long life.

“Hob.” More gently now. “It is just a sweater. Why are you so worried, my love?”

“Well, I mean. It’s not just a sweater. It’s your favorite,” says Hob. “And I want you to, to have nice things. Your favorite things. I know it’s hard, to be human. It’s hard for us normal humans, and I can’t imagine how much harder it is for you sometimes, and I just… I want nice things for you. Because, because I love you,” he says lamely.

Dream looks at him for a long moment, those blue eyes glistening, and then very deliberately casts the cardigan aside onto the pile of shopping bags and steps into the open circle of Hob’s arms.

“My love,” he says tenderly into Hob’s neck. Hob sniffles a little and indulges in the softness of Dream’s hair and the smell of his shampoo. “It is just a sweater. And you may buy me another, even six, if you so wish. And you may stain every single one with bleach, many times over. It will be, as you like to say when I make mistakes, very human of you.”

He pulls back just enough to rub their noses together and murmur his next words into the warm curve of Hob’s mouth.

“I find I like being human, because I am being human with you,” he says. “And you take the best care of me that anyone ever has. And no number of stained sweaters could possibly change that, I am sure.”

“Well then. If you’re sure,” says Hob, and kisses him. “I will get you a new one if you want, though.”

“Or perhaps I will add more bleach stains. And embroidery. And sequins. I have been looking for a new art project.”

“Or that,” says Hob, and kisses him again.

[akajustmerry]

"The course I teach on black women writers is a consistent favorite among students. The last semester that I taught this course we had the usual passionate discussion of Nella Larsen's novel Passing. When I suggested to the class (which had been more eager to discuss the desire of black folks to be white) that Clare, the black woman who has passed for white all her adult life and married a wealthy white businessman with whom she has a child, is the only character in the novel who truly desires "blackness" and that it is this desire that leads to her murder, no one responded. Clare boldly declares that she would rather live for the rest of her life as a poor black woman in Harlem than as a rich white matron downtown. I asked the class to consider the possibility that to love blackness is dangerous in a white supremacist culture-so threatening. so serious a breach in the fabric of the social order, that death is the punishment."

bell hooks in Black Looks: Race and Representation. Chapter 1: Loving Blackness as Political Resistance

[queering-ecology]

Chapter 7. Polluted Politics? Confronting Toxic Discourse, Sex Panic and Eco-Normativity by Giovanna Di Chiro

“Stereotypes and lies lodge in our bodies as surely as bullets. They live and fester there, stealing the body.”—Eli Clare

Queer ecology as defined by Mortimer-Sandilands (2005, 24) “both about seeing beauty in the wounds of the world and taking responsibility to care for the world as it is”. (200)

Environmental justice constructs an eco-politics that defines the environment as our communities: the places where ‘we live, work, play, and learn’ (200). Environmental justice activists embrace inhabited/built places---cities, villages, reservations, agricultural fields, workplaces, poor and low-income neighborhoods next to hazardous industrial facilities as environments worthy of recognition and protection (Di Chiro 1996)

There has been rising environmental anxiety that surrounds cultural fears of exposure to chemical and endocrine-disrupting toxins especially as it relates to the troubling and destabilizing of normal/natural gendered bodies of humans and other animal species aka the “chemical castration” or the “feminization of nature” (Cadbury 1998; Hayes 2002)--rising fears that we are “swimming in a sea of estrogen” (Raloff 1994b, 56; Sumpter and Jobling 1995 173) as a consequence of rising levels of estrogenic, synthetic chemical compounds emitted into our water, air and food known as estrogenic pollution (ova-pollution). (201)

Pop-science warning about the ‘instability of maleness’—warns that the rising incidences of male-to-female gender shifts and intersex conditions observed in the ‘lower’ species of animals, such as frogs, fish, and salamanders, represent the newest ‘canaries in the coalmine’ portending an uncertain fate for human maleness and for the future of ‘normal’ sexual reproduction (Robert 2003) (201) also anti-toxins discourse has concerns about estrogenic chemical toxins disrupting/preventing/disturbing ‘normal’ prenatal physiological development and natural reproductive processes, leading to rising cases of infertility and producing disabled, defective, and even monstrous bodies (201)…

What can develop is a “sex panic” that resuscitates familiar heterosexist, queerphobic, and eugenics arguments classifying some bodies as not normal: mistakes, perversions, burdens (I would add ‘freaks’)…under the guise of laudable goal/progressive goals, a certain type of anti-toxics environmentalism mobilizes knowledge/power of normalcy and normativity and reinforces compulsory social-environmental order based on a dominant regime of what and who are constructed as normal and natural (Davis 1995; Garland-Thompson 1997; McRuer 2006).

Disability becomes an environmental problem and lgbtq people become disabled—the unintended consequences of a contaminated and impure environment, unjustly impaired by chemical trespass. (202) The true scope of the mortality and morbidity of POPs (persistent organic pollutants) becomes distorted by alarmist focus. This fixation ends up de-emphasizing and worse--naturalizing and normalizing other serious health problems associated with POPs that are on the rise: breast, ovarian, prostate and testicular cancers, neurological and neurobehavioral problems, immune system breakdown, heart disease, diabetes and obesity (202).

There is good reason for alarm concerning the continued use and accumulation of toxic chemicals that are wreaking havoc on the health and reproductive possibilities of the living world. Our cumulative exposures to endocrine disruptors, carcinogens, neurotoxins, asthmagens, and mutagens in our normal, everyday lives from our daily contact with plastic water bottles, shampoos, and kitchen cleaners to insect repellents, food preservatives, and factory farmed meats, among others, are most certainly putting at risk the health of our own bodies and our earth. (210) But where should the critical attention lie?

The hyperfocus on the world turning into hermaphrodites participates in a sexual titillation strategy summoning the familiar ‘crimes against’ nature’ credo and inviting culturally sanctioned homophobia while at the same time sidelining and naturalizing ‘normal’ environmental diseases such as cancer (211).

--

Environmental theory and politics in the US have historically mobilized ideas of the normal, to determine which  bodies and environments/landscapes embody the distinctly American values of productive work, rugged individualism, masculinity, independence, potency, and moral virtue upon which environmental advocacy movements should be based (Haraway 1989; Cronon 1991). Critical histories of U.S. environmentalism have revealed the capitalist, patriarchal, colonialist, heteronormative, eugenicist, and ableist histories underlying its “progressive” exterior (Boag 2003; Darnovky 1992; Evans 2002; Gaard 2004; Jaquette 2005; Sutter 2001).

Eco-normativity (or eco[hetero]normativity) appear in alarmist discourse in the anti-toxins arm of the environmental movement. Their alarm about contaminants effect on sex/gender appeals to preexisting cultural norms of gender balance, normal sexual reproduction and the balance of nature. The use of “anti-normal” “anti-natural” in antitoxins discourse is highly questionable and risks reinforcing the dominant social and economic order (the forces actually responsible for environmental destruction and toxic contamination of all our bodies and environments) by naturalizing the multiple injustices that shore it up”…and thus creates what the author terms, polluted politics.

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Colette

1381-1447

Feast day: March 6

Patronage: Women seeking to conceive, expectant mothers and sick children

Saint Colette, born Nicole Boellet (or Boylet), was a French abbess and the foundress of the Colettine Poor Clares, a reform branch of the Order of Saint Clare, better known as the Poor Clares. Due to a number of miraculous events claimed during her life, she is venerated as the patron saint of women seeking to conceive, expectant mothers and sick children.

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase here: (website)

[polishdynasty]

“It seems like she [ Elizabeth of Poland ] already prepared one will, during her first years of stay in Poland, but only the above-mentioned [ made in April 6th 1380 ] survived, which is by all means interesting. At the beginning, Elizabeth states that she wants to be buried in the Poor Clares monastery in Óbuda, which she founded and not in the royal graves in Szekesfehervar [ ... ]. She recommends the care of peace of her soul to her son and daughter-in-law, to whom she also entrusts the protection of her favourite monastery. Then there are bequeaths for the royal family, monasteries and courtiers and from them we can learn not only about the wealth of Elizabeth's treasury, but also about many beautiful features of her character.

Her son, Louis, receives several golden vessels, among them a cup, a gift from Naples on which next to the figure of Saint Ladislaus and the Hungarian count of arms, there was also engraved Polish eagle and then relics, except for a painting supposedly painted by Saint Louis, which was received by Poor Clares. To her daughter-in-law Elizabeth she leaves her castle in Óbuda and then her valuables and one of her breviaries, on which she used to pray. The granddaughter, Mary, receives golden tiara decorated with two eagles and a necklace, the second, Jadwiga receives a tiara with lilies and necklace with costly stones. Elizabeth also does not forget about Jadwiga, an orphan from her brother Casimir, who was still hiding in Buda castle, and leaves her the same tiara as the previous two.

Then Elizabeth disposes of her money, from which, after paying off her debtors, she allocates 500 gold florins for exequies after her death and 2,000 for funeral costs of her granddaughter after her son Stephen, the recently deceased Elizabeth, whose body she orders to be brought to Buda. Elizabeth also provides generously to her courtiers: Jan, the provost of Buda receives 400, knight Jakisz 300, page Ladislaus 200 gold florins, Klara de Pukar receives a village, a cart and 6 horses, 400 silver fines and the Queen's second breviary, which, however, Poor Clares are to receive after her death.

What is left after providing the Queen's confessor and a few other courtiers, jewels, dishes, robs, decorations, utensils and 1,000 golden florins is to be distributed equally among all the Queen's courtiers, both Polish and Hungarian. Pages and other courtiers who do not receive separate salery receives 1,000 florins and all the Queen's carriage horses, except six, which will accompany her funeral.

Finally, there are bequests for churches, in which she supplies all the Dominican, Franciscan and Augustinian monasteries throughout Hungary and a number of other temples. Having entrusted her ladies-in waiting to her daughter-in-law and her courtiers to her son, she asks him to not hold menagers of her estates and treasures responsible on the basis of false accusations, because they are trustworthy people, at the same time she hereby cancels all her previous testamentary decrees. She also appoints the executors of her will, including Cardinal Demtrius of Esztergom and her daughter-in-law, Elizabeth. To be sure, two copies of the will were prepared, one of them remained at court and the other was given to the Poor Clares in Óbuda for safekeeping...” — Jan Dąbrowski “Elżbieta Łokietkówna”

[thejediscrolls]

I heart ?

Crosshair x reader

Who knew simply loving a man would be so difficult

Fluff - Angst (I mean it’s Crosshair)

Pt 1 of I Heart ?

A weapons technician shouldn’t be feeling this way especially towards one of the clones. A bad batch clone to be specific.

“Hey.” Clare walked into our station.

I looked up from a stabilizer I was placing on the new sniper rifle I was developing, “Hey, how was last night?” I asked referring to her date with the one and only Tech.

“Better than I hoped for.” She sighed happily as she fell into her seat, “He was such a gentleman the entire night. It makes me wonder how he can be a soldier.”

“I know, he definitely seems more of a tech guy here, no pun intended.” I chuckled.

“I could definitely see him more if only he was…” Clare sighed before peeking up, “Oh! We have another shipment of weapons and parts coming today.” Clare stated as she walked towards her desk, her curly brown hair bouncing.

“Did that part I asked for come in?” I asked.

“The one that goes to that gun you got there for certain stone cold sniper?” She smirked, her brown eyes sparkling as she looked at me, “Then yes.”

I smacked her lightly on the arm, “Shh!”

“What? He’s not going to here us, he barely ever comes down here.” She retorted.

My shoulders slumped at the thought, “I know…”

“Hey…” Clare rested her hand on my shoulder, “I could always ask Tech to put in a good word for you?”

I shook my head, “No, no. I don’t want to seem desperate.”

“But, you are desperate?”

“Yes, but I don’t need him to know that.” I explained as I returned back to my work, “He barely acknowledges me as it is.”

“Then why are you making that.” She motioned to the sleek new rifle that carried even more tech then the one he is currently using.

“I… He.” I dropped the driver I was holding with a sigh, “He is just so amazing! And so cool! And smart and quick witted and I’m just quirky. I just… I want to impress him somehow.”

Clare nodded in understanding, “I see.” She gave me an encouraging smile, “I bet he’s going to notice you after you show him this new weapon.”

Her words cheered me up and I gave her a hopeful smile, “I hope so.”

My name was called from the doorway and Ren walked in with a package, “Here’s the part you ordered.”

“See!” Clare cheered behind me as I signed my name on the tablet, “It’s a sign!”

I giggled at her enthusiasm as I got back to work.

Little did I know, my oldest friend Clare had plans of her own.

“And that is why I think they will be perfect for each other.” Clare placed her hand on Tech’s arm, “So will you help me?”

“I’ll get him down there, but I can’t promise his feelings. You know Crosshair, he’s pretty closed off.” Tech explained.

“We just need to get them together. Their hearts can do the rest.” Clare smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for helping me.”

“O-Of course.” He stumbled over his words.

“Then let’s start with a drink.” She said.

With Tech on her side, she knew that her plan will work.

“Tech is meeting us at 79’s.” Clare said, fixing her hair in the mirror of my room, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” I called out from my bathroom, finishing the last curl in my hair.

I stepped out, showing her the off the shoulder knitted black mini dress.

“You look beautiful!” She gasped in awe.

“So do you!” I motioned towards her red dress that showed off her curves.

We stood by the bar arms looped as I laughed at the gossip she was telling me.

“A clone, I think his name was Check, tried to get with Lisa last night.” She whispered quiet loudly.

I gasped, “No! That poor boy. I bet he is going to be wounded for life.”

“She fed him to the wolves.” Clare smiled proudly, “Our one and only power woman never fails to show us the true meaning of a boss woman.”

“Girls.” A voice spoke behind us and we turned around to greet Tech and… Crosshair.

I quiet literally felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I stared at the tall slender sniper. He was wearing a black Henley and a pair of black jeans. The toothpick in his mouth moving slowly as he took in the lack of clothes he normally saw me wearing.

Damn, how is he so good looking? Even in casual clothes he looks handsome.

Clare nudged my side, snapping me out of my daze. I cleared my throat and stood up straight.

“Hi.” I held my hand out, hoping that the dimmed lights hid my red face, “I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m-”

He said my name before I could finish, “I know who you are.” He said refusing to shake my hand.

“Ah.” I laughed nervously moving my hand to scratch the back of my neck, “Right, of course you do. How is your night going?”

He hummed as a response before walking away. My heart seemed to fall in my stomach.

“Don’t take it to heart.” Tech encouraged, “He just needs some time to warm up to you.”

“Go to him. Show him you’re worth his time.” Clare encouraged already shoving two drink into my hands.

You are a strong woman… You handle weapons for a living… You can do this…

I found him sitting in a booth. His left arm resting on the back of his seat.

“Hey.” I said quietly, gaining his attention, “I brought you a drink.”

He stared at it sharply and turned his head, “I don’t drink that.”

“Oh,” I said embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I can get you something else. Whatever you prefer and I thought that maybe we could get to know each other? I think that you are really cool. I also know that you like guns and well I design them. And now I’m rambling.” I laughed nervously, “What would you like to drink?”

He stared at me, unsure of how to respond. When he finally spoke he looked uncomfortable which didn’t help my nerves at all, “Oh… I…”

“Hey there hot shot, here’s your drink.” A girl with long red hair plopped down in his lap, a shot of shot whiskey placed on the table for him as she set down her fruity drink and leaned back into him.

“Oh? Are you a friend?” She asked turning her attention to me.

Words got caught in my throat and it took everything to hide my embarrassment, “I…”

“There you are!” Rex’s voice sounded from behind me as he slung an arm over my shoulder, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. The boys want to say hello.” He gave the two sitting in the booth a nod before steering me away.

When we were far enough he unwrapped his arm from me, “I’m sorry, you looked liked you were in a tough spot.” He said as he led me to the bar.

I set the drinks down with a sigh, “Thank you.” I whispered.

“Finally took your shot huh?” He asked as he ordered a drink.

I nodded miserably, “It was horrible and embarrassing. I can’t believe I thought I had a chance.”

“If it helps, she was the one that came onto him first.” Rex said.

“Maybe I’m just fooling myself.” I slumped against the bar.

“I think you are brave, not foolish.” He said.

“I just got shot down. I’m not brave.” I muttered.

“Hey, that soldier over there is either going to like you or he won’t, but his opinion of you takes nothing from how amazing you are.”

“Thank you Rex.” I smiled at him.

He returned it with one of his own, “Anytime.” He said before hearing a bunch of shouting from his squad, “I should probably go take care of them.” He chuckled.

I laughed with a nod, “I’m going to go find Clare. See you later Rex.”

“Stay safe.” He said before walking away.

I found Clare secured under Tech’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Her smile soon turned to concern as she spotted me.

“Are you okay?” She asked immediately pulling away from Tech, “What happened?”

I shook my head looking down at the drinks I’ve been carrying around, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” She motioned for me to join them at their table, “You can hang out with us.”

“No, no. I think I’m gonna head home.”

“Do you want us to walk you home?” Tech ask considerately.

“No, you two have fun and enjoy the evening. Goodnight.” I gave her a reassuring smile before turning around. I downed both of the drinks and placed them at a nearby table before heading out.

The walk home was humiliating as I mumbled to myself.

“Of course he wouldn’t waste his free time with me. Of course he would find someone beautiful to take home. I mean look at me.” I stopped walking to look at my reflection in a closed shop window.

“Of course.” I sighed turning from my route home to my work place instead.

I gently added another piece to the weapon, it being only halfway finished.

I hung my head low as I whispered, “I’m such an idiot.”

[beardedmrbean]

Sixteen Spanish nuns have announced they are breaking from the Catholic Church and instead placing themselves under the authority of Pablo de Rojas Sánchez-Franco, a self-styled bishop who was excommunicated in 2019.

The 16 Poor Clare sisters, part of the Franciscan Order of Saint Clare, were based in the dioceses of Burgos and Vitoria in northern Spain.

The schism comes against the backdrop of conservative anger over the leadership of Pope Francis. In February, 90 Catholic clergymen and scholars wrote a letter to "all Cardinals and Bishops of the Catholic Church," urging them to oppose a document approved by the pontiff that allowed priests to bless same-sex couples. Earlier this month, Francis angered many American conservatives by describing efforts to prevent migrants crossing the U.S.-Mexican border as "madness."

The 16 nuns, led by Sister Isabel of the Trinity, announced their break from Catholic authorities in a five-page open letter published on their convent's website.

In the letter, Sister Isabel said Catholics have had to endure "the silence of our pastors," who "left their sheep alone and helpless to face the wolves."

Referring to the papacy, she added: "From the Throne of Peter we have been receiving contradiction, confusion and doublespeak, ambiguity, lack of clear doctrine, which is all the more necessary in stormy times, to hold the rudder more firmly.

"During this time the sisters, each in her own style, way and rhythm, have been contemplating a question, a doubt about the one who steers the Barque of Peter, and his closest collaborators. A doubt which, in time, became SCANDAL."

Newsweek has contacted the press office of the Holy See for comment by email.

Sister Isabel also said the Vatican prevented the community from selling an empty monastery in Derio, the proceeds of which were intended to pay for a new monastery in Orduña. She said the decision was a bid to control "traditionally minded communities and keep their real estate to sell."

The sister said the group would instead put itself under the authority of Sánchez-Franco, whom she styled a "legitimate bishop of the Holy Catholic Church" despite his excommunication by the Vatican.

She added: "They are going to call us heretics and schismatics, crazy, and many more very disagreeable and calumnious things, but don't believe them; at least this once, don't let them fool you."

In an attached 70-page document titled "Catholic Manifesto," the group said it recognized "H.H. Pius XII as the last valid Supreme Pontiff," adding that "the see of St. Peter is vacant and usurped."

In a broadcast on Spanish radio station COPE, Archbishop Mario Iceta of Burgos, under whose jurisdiction the 16 nuns fell, said when he first heard they were leaving, he "thought it was fake news," the Catholic News Agency reported.

He said the schism "seems absolutely wrong," adding that the church must see "if it is possible to heal it, cure it, reverse it" through dialogue with the nuns.

According to the Catholic News Agency, the archbishop added: "I don't know if they realize the profound consequences that this step has and that is why my option or my opinion is that this should not be done precipitously, let this media tidal wave pass, let's see if it's possible to establish a relationship with them and dialogue and look at these issues and give them time to reconsider this situation that seems so surprising and strange to me."

[thepastisalreadywritten]

SAINT OF THE DAY (February 19)

Conrad was born into a noble family in northern Italy. He married the daughter of a nobleman, Euphrosyne.

One day, while he was hunting, Conrad ordered his attendants to make a fire.

The wind carried the flames, which set fire to nearby fields, forests, towns and villages. Upon seeing this, Conrad ran away in fear.

Because he ran, an innocent man was convicted for spreading the fire and was condemned to death as punishment.

Upon hearing of this, Conrad stepped forth to accept the blame, saving the innocent man's life.

He paid for the damaged property. He and his wife gave everything they owned to the poor in recompense.

Conrad then left to join a group of Franciscan hermits, and his wife joined the Poor Clares.

Word eventually spread of Conrad's holiness, piety, and gift of healing.

When many visitors began to destroy his life of silence and solitude, he moved to Sicily where he lived and prayed as a hermit for 36 years.

Legends say that when the Bishop of Syracuse visited him, the bishop asked Conrad if he had any food to offer guests.

Conrad went to his cell and returned with newly made cakes, which the bishop accepted as a miracle.

Conrad visited the bishop later to make a general confession to him.

As he arrived, Conrad was surrounded by fluttering birds.

Conrad died kneeling before a crucifix.

[stjohncapistrano67]

A renaissance era Catholic religious art image of St. Clare of Assisi. I don't know who the artist is.

[elipheleh]

Santa Chiara

Continuing my series of learning about things referenced in the book, I'm looking at things referenced in Alex & Henry's visit to the V&A Museum. These are all tagged #a series of learning about things that are referenced in the book, if you want to block the tag.

Through the marble choir screen at the back of the room is a second, deeper chamber, this one filled with church relics. Past stained glass and statues of saints, at the very end of the room, is an entire high altar chapel removed from its church. The sign explains its original setting was the apse of the convent church of Santa Chiara in Florence in the fifteenth century, and it’s stunning, set deep into an alcove to create a real chapel, with statues of Santa Chiara and Saint Francis of Assisi. When they kiss, Alex can hear a half-remembered old proverb from catechism, mixed up between translations of the book: “Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es buena, and the honeycomb, sweet to thy taste.” He wonders what Santa Chiara would think of them, a lost David and Jonathan, turning slowly on the spot. -Chapter 10, Red White & Royal Blue

-----

The visual provided for this scene is the Chancel Chapel from the Church of Santa Chiara, in Florence. The only Italian Renaissance chapel outside of Italy, it consists of four parts - the Chapel and Frieze, the Tabernacle, and as Alex references, the Statues of Saint Francis and Saint Claire/Chiara. While the artist is unknown, it has been attributed to Giuliano de Sangallo or those associated with him, in the last decade of the 1400s. It was purchased on behalf of the V&A museum in 1860 by J.C. Robinson.

The Chapel belonged to the Poor Clares order of nuns, whose founders were the Saints featured in the piece - St Francis and St Claire/Chiara. The convent of Santa Chiara was founded on the site of a hospital, and this altar was commissioned by the brother of some of the nuns, Jacopo Bongianni in the 1490s.

-----

The proverb Alex remembers is from Proverbs 24:13. I've included both the English and the Spanish versions. I used the King James Version of the English bible and the Reina-Valera Antigua for the Spanish version.

Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es buena, Y del panal dulce á tu paladar. My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste.

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David and Jonathan are characters in the Book of Samuel in the bible. Many queer people look to them as an example of a queer relationship that was affirmed and blessed by God. Jonathan was the son of the first King of Israel, and David became the second King of Israel.

When they were introduced to each other, Jonathan took an immediate liking to David and "the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David and Jonathan loved him as himself". [1 Samuel 18] Following Jonathan's death, David expresses that Jonathan's love for him was "more wonderful than that of women". [2 Samuel 1] He also later adopts Jonathan's adult son, Mephibosheth, saying "I will [...] show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan." [2 Samuel 9] He does so despite the risk this poses to his position as King - Mephibosheth was a potential claimant to the throne, being the grandson of the former King.

Oscar Wilde referenced David and Jonathan in the well known reference to "the love that dare not speak its name" during his trial. We know that Henry has an affection for Wilde - Alex sees a copy of his complete works on Henry's nightstand.

Sources: V&A - Chancel chapel from Church of Santa Chiara, Florence Proverbs 24:13, Spanish and English QSpirit - David and Jonathan: Same-sex love between men in the Bible - the comments on this contain homophobia Samuel references - 1 Samuel 18, 2 Samuel 1, 2 Samuel 9

[missbananarose]

In Goncharov (1973), Sofia Ambrosini’s backstory is that she was an orphan and raised by nuns. Her prosthetic leg is a result of Italian economic riots after World War Two. Why was her family not around, and why were nuns her guardians? The answer has to do with World War Two. Sofia was born into a French Jewish family and given to Italian nuns for protection from the Nazis.

Named after a town in Italy, the Assisi Network was an Italian secret organization that kept Jewish people safe. 26 monasteries and convents were used as hiding places. The Nazis took power after 1943, once Mussolini was arrested. Just after the power shift, Sofia’s family sent her to live with the Poor Clares in the Monastero di San Quirico in Assisi. The Poor Clares were an order of nuns that cared for women and children. Secret grottos under the convent served as hiding places for refugees. Sofia became very good at staying quiet and being stealthy. On June 16, 1944, Assisi was liberated. The Germans in Italy surrendered to the Allies on May 2 1945. By September 1945, Sofia felt safe enough to travel back to Naples. Her family had moved there from France in 1930. When she arrived, her family was missing. She returned to Assisi and the Poor Clare nuns. As an adult, by the time of the film, she has begun to live in Naples again. She still keeps an eye out for her family, and has possibly found Mario, her long-lost brother.

Sofia was Romani-coded in the novella. It’s probable that the Assisi Network would have been similarly helpful. I believe that she was Jewish-coded in the 1973 film.

During one scene, Sofia lights a candelabra with three candles and two peacock motifs on a Friday evening. The candelabra looks like this photo. This isn’t her introduction scene, but it is in the first half of the film. Sofia sits in the kitchen of her house, in front on the table. She lights the candles at 4:26 pm, as shown on the small clock beside the candelabra. She waves a hand over her eyes. These shots depict Sofia lighting candles for Shabbat, the weekly day of rest in Judaism. It starts Friday evening and ends Saturday evening. Shabbat candles have to be lit about 20 minutes before sunset. Generally, two candles are lit, but more are possible. Sofia lights the middle candle first, the shamansh, or “helper” in Hebrew. She uses the shamansh to light the left and right candles afterwards. Sofia has her dinner. Later on, red light from the sunset is shown over the white candles. The red and white colors foreshadow the red blood over Katya’s white dress later on. The end of the day is also part of the passage of time. It’s not explicitly stated that it is Shabbat, but it is clear that it is Friday. Sofia knows what the candles mean.

The two peacocks on the candelabra relate to the theme of pairs within the film. Goncharov and Katya are meant to be a couple, but form their own separate relationships. Andrey and Goncharov are caught up in their romantic tension. Katya and Sofia have a friendship that starts to become romantic.

Sofia could maintain some Jewish customs, but not all of them. She could light Shabbat candles, but not keep strict kosher. If she’s Jewish, the fruit stand scene maintains religious themes with apples and figs. Genesis is part of the Torah (for Judaism) and the Old Testament (for Christianity).

[anastpaul]

Saint of the Day – 22 February – Saint Isabella of France (1225-1270) Virgin

Saint of the Day – 22 February – Saint Isabella of France (1225-1270) Virgin, Apostle of the poo, the sick and needy, Founder Nun of a Convent based on the Poor Clares Order, known as the Sisters Minor and forming part of the Franciscan family. Sister of Saint Louis IX, Aunt of Saint Louis of Toulouse, Princess. Born in March 1225 in Paris and died on 23 February 1270 (aged 45) at the Convent in…

[catholic-saint-tournament]

Since I already nominated St. Francis, and I have to nominate his sister from another mister, St. Clare of Assisi. Co-founder of the Franciscan movement and founder of the Order of St. Clare, she lived with the poor with no shoes and continued even after she got sick, got a haircut from Francis himself, and lived so much like Francis that she was titled alter Franciscus (other Francis). She was a great motivator to him and even took care of him during his last moments. She's basically the little sister that saw he big brother doing things and was like "I wanna be like big bro." And for all of that, she deserves a vote.

YASS YASS YASS CLARE OF ASSISI YASS QUEEN OF ASSISI

another vote added for Clare!!!