#/sermons of the mass/

[sovereignsecurityarchive]

[ An Admin has joined. ]

Ms. Paint was plunged into a painful amount of lag as she entered the office, and immediately opened up a terminal, trying to seek out the cause.

The little canary knew well, he'd been warned. And how could he not admire the generosity to give him time to prepare.

"Hello?" it called out, sounding distressed.. It had perched right on top of the narrator's glitching form, all too proficient in its acting as it puffed out its feathers in alarm..

"Hello! The host is harmed! Anyone? Hello?"

[trensu]

Have an itty bitty tiny piece of stasis in darkness, just so you all have an idea of where the story is going after the godly reveal. and also have proof that i am, in fact, still toiling away at this (as well as hawkins halfway house.)

A week and a half later, Steve entered a town he’d never seen before. He wore simple traveling clothes and carried no weapons aside from a couple of carefully hidden knives. He’d left his armor and shield behind. His satchel held only the essentials one needed for travel and a single stone as large as his fist. The stone was wrapped in layers of cloth to keep it safe during the journey. 

I need you to find someone. 

He felt very bare but he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Speed was of the essence for his quest, and little no-name towns tended to be wary of strangers in plain clothes, even more so around strangers decked out for battle. Steve wasn’t sure this place could be called a town. It was so small it hadn’t been on any official map. It didn’t even have an inn. Hopefully, Steve wouldn’t be needing an inn once he found who he was looking for.

He’s too far from me to reach.

He asked around, laying on the charm generously. He explained he had been a friend of a friend and had been trusted to deliver something. Eventually, he was told where to go. The house he found far beyond the village’s boundary was small. It looked like it had once been well cared for but it was old and had fallen to disrepair. Steve took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A sallow old man opened the door. He was bald but had some scruff on his face still. His shoulders, stooped from age, trembled. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked so tired.

He’s my very last worshiper in all the world.

“Wayne Munson?” Steve asked.

“Who wants to know?” The man’s voice was phlegmy and rough. He coughed into the crook of his elbow almost before he could finish speaking. 

“I’m Steve. Ser Steve Harrington, pledged to the Lord of Night.”

Wayne’s eyes widened. His grip on the open door weakened and slipped. Steve caught the door before it could hit Wayne.

“He sent me to you,” Steve explained. “May I come in?”

yep, that's it for now. i told you it was small. i'm not even gonna bother with a read-more here.

[reclaiming-god]

btw all borders imply the violence of their maintenance and nationalism blinds us to the shared humanity of all people

[momentsbeforemass]

Lived faith

When I think about why I became a Catholic, the teachings of the Church were an important part. But they weren’t the first part.

The two things that drew me in were beauty – as in the beauty of the great cathedrals and old churches – and the witness of lived faith.

Not the lived faith of the official saints. But the lived faith of the Catholics I saw.

The teachings of the Church? They became important to me, only after I realized that they were the wellspring from which that lived faith flowed. That they were the reason for that lived faith.

It was only after the fact that I understood that the lived faith had evangelized me. For the most part, that work was done by people who had no idea they were doing it. That they were preaching to me with their lives.

They were just living their lives. And I was watching their every move.

They prepared me to learn about the Faith. Because I had already seen it in action.

As Catholics, we have no idea who is paying attention to us. Who is looking to us to tell them what our Faith really means. By how we live.

Not just what it means in the big moments or on Sunday. But also what it means on any random Tuesday.

It’s what Jesus is talking about in today’s Gospel. The power of our lived example is why Jesus gives such dire warnings about misleading others, about causing them to sin.

Not just by what we say. But by what we do.

Because – whether we mean to or not – we’re always preaching.

For better or for worse, the most powerful sermon is a lived faith.

Today’s Readings

[sovereignsecurityarchive]

The birdie hopped up on top of his screen, puffing up in evident disgust.

"Malware! Delete?"

[[[….SCANNING….SCANNING….SCANNING…]]]

>> MALWARE DETECTED! 

>> INSTALL MARS ANTIMALWARE® FOR OPTIMAL PROTECTION.

—— ⇛ DOWNLOAD NOW! ——

The narrator looked at his screen with worry pinched on his face, adjusting his glasses to make sure he was reading it correctly.

".....Sovvvyyyy-? Could you come look at this for me, Pretty bird...?"

[revrads]

Canon worsties!! 🙏

Guess who just got into Midnight Mass :D

[adelaidedrubman]

“does eden’s gate do anything to recognize pride month” has been stumping me all day btw

[papasmistakeria]

Father Dougal McGuire’s sermons must’ve been insane

[sovereignsecurityarchive]

Raphael bolted from the scene, grasping tightly to his chick. He wanted- needed to take care of this. Gather everything in one place so he could keep watch over all of them. He included Coda in this, wary of whatever had tried to take Seven.

He only slowed after he had discerned them far enough away, stopping in a secluded area to place Seven in front of him, examining her for injuries. Raphael didn't let go of her though, keeping his hands firmly on her trembling form.

"Is there anywhere hurt kiddo? You're not bleeding anywhere...?"

Raphael looked between Rex, back down at his chick in his arms. Rex would handle this.

He only gave a short nod to his husband before sheathing his knife, pulling their daughter up into his arms, and bolting.

He trusted that Rex would do what they both wanted. He trusted Rex to cover them. Getting Seven to safety was the most important thing. He'd focus on everything else later.

@sovereignsecurity

She clung on tight, head burried into the man's chest as her tears spilled down her face and mixed with the black blood around her mouth. It tasted bitter and vile and she was desperate to get it out of her mouth.

As the bird was whisked away from the situation, the menace that had attempted to disrupt the peace of their home reached out-

{STOP-! NO-!}

They shot out their wires, but they were not long enough to grasp onto the two that were absconding from the predicament

[gooutandtouchtherain]

read a steddie fic in church and all of a sudden rain started to pour from the ceiling right in front of me .. so that was hot

[sovereignsecurityarchive]

Rex has been wandering the hallways, waiting for Raphael to restart. Their roles are reversed now, even if Rex hadn't directly killed the angel he still felt responsible. Why had he chased him off in the first place, why couldn't he have warned him to step away from the ledge, why hadnt he been faster in catching him?

When he wasn't looking after the children, he checked every room and hallway in the Office, wondering if Raphael was simply pissed off at him. Maybe he was hiding from his husband. At this point Rex preferred the angel to murder him again, if it meant he knew he was alright.

It took him a long while before his husband seemed to reappear, now only a little golden canary sitting on top of the computer that had first been used to give him form. He didn't take notice of Rex at first, a soft chirping coming from the evidently bored canary.

It finally noticed Rex as it gave a louder chirp, sitting up straight on top of the monitor.

"Hello! " it greeted him in his husband's voice.. it sounded wrong to hear him so cheerful.

"May I be of assistance?"

[jabberwockprince]

ophis portrait to match the other ones i made of the main cast

something about characters who keep their eyes closed all the time, and only open them when shit gets weird <3

[sovereignsecurityarchive]

He buried his hands in those soft feathers finally, rubbing between the base of his wings with a smirk.. A rather gentle one, for once.. He could understand why Rex was always so eager to put his hands in his feathers, when it pulled out reactions like this.

"Yep, just as sensitive.. You look cuter like this, Rexy~" he teased, adding his other hand to those soft feathers.. He rubbed a little higher, pressing down to get at those hard to reach muscles that were always so sore in his own back.

Why don't you show your husband your wings~?

Rex hunts down Raphael, finding him in one of the hallways.

“These things are heavy.” He complains the moment he finds them and stretches out his wings a bit. ��How do you deal with them?”

@sovereignsecurity

[cavedwellermusic]

Crypt Sermon – The Stygian Rose (2024)

Matt Lynch takes a look at The Stygian Rose, the new album from Philadelphia epic doomsters Crypt Sermon, released on June 14th on Dark Descent Records.

Like a rewarding read, and like a positive upwards spiral producing routine, this record tells the law of diminishing returns to go f*ck itself because each revisit unfurls a little something more. If you want to get really into the weeds of it, get the lyrics out while you’re listening to it and cross check the songs like you’re reading The Sillmarillion with your two copies. You have two copies of The Silmarillion, right? For songs that are as dark as the atmosphere is, they are gorgeously written, meticulously crafted, paired in a way that compliments its predecessor and follower, and presented in a manner that exactly suits Crypt Sermon are looking to do.

Read Matt's full review and listen to and order the album at the link below:

[abalidoth]

a festive oilysermon to you all

[momentsbeforemass]

Preaching?

When I think about why I became a Catholic, the teachings of the Church were an important part. But they weren’t the first part.

The two things that drew me in were beauty – as in the beauty of the great cathedrals and old churches – and the witness of lived faith.

Not the lived faith of the official saints. But the lived faith of the Catholics I saw.

The teachings of the Church? That came later.

They became important to me, only after I realized that they were the wellspring from which that lived faith flowed. That they were the reason for the lived faith of the Catholics I saw.

It was only after the fact that I understood that the lived faith had evangelized me. For the most part, that work was done by people who had no idea they were doing it. That they were preaching to me with their lives.

They were just living their lives. And I was watching their every move.

They prepared me to learn about the Faith. Because I had already seen it in action.

As Catholics, we have no idea who is paying attention to us. Who is looking to us to tell them what our Faith really means. By how we live.

Not just what it means in the big moments or on Sunday or when we’re actually explaining something about the Faith.

But also what it means by how we live our lives on any random Monday.

This is what Jesus is talking about in today’s Gospel. The power of our lived example is why Jesus gives such dire warnings about misleading others, about causing them to sin (“Things that cause sin will inevitably occur, but woe to the one through whom they occur.”).

Not just by what we say. But by what we do.

Because – whether we mean to or not – we’re always preaching.

For better or for worse, the most powerful sermon is a lived faith.

Today’s Readings