#Christian Hill

[iannozzigiuseppe]

L'apparizione di Baozhai. Gli incubi di Howard Lovecraft. Vol. 1 - Lothar T. Payne - Fanucci Editore

L’APPARIZIONE DI BAOZHAI Gli incubi di Howard Lovecraft (Vol. 1) Lothar T. Payne Età di lettura: Young adult (dai 12 ai 18 anni) Fanucci Editore «Sono il tuo sogno? Accidenti, sai davvero parlare alle donne.» «Ma no» protesta lui. «Cioè, sì, il fatto è che sto sognando. Ti sogno ogni sera. Tutto questo non è vero.» «Mi sogni ogni sera? Be’, grazie. Però ti garantisco che tutto questo è vero,…

[gay-jewish-bucky]

Friendly reminder that interfaith families with a Jewish partner and a Christian partner exist (as do many other configurations of mixed family structures), any holiday decor or greetings cards you see combining Christmas and Hanukkah is more likely than not intended for that specific audience. You don't have to like seeing the two combined, but when you go out of your way to make snide comments the only people getting hurt are people in interfaith families, not the companies making the products.

[stimpry]

[arc-hus]

Lake House, Winterthur, Switzerland - Christiane Agreiter & Markus Schietsch

[seraphim-eternal]

The Lord your God carried you, as a man carries his son, all the way that you went until you came to this place.

Deuteronomy 1:31

[hanitje]

Christian Cage Was In Love With Luke Perry

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

"I wouldn't have eaten the forbidden fruit" yes you would have. Why? Because you do it everyday. Because every character in the bible does it (with a few exceptions) over and over and over again. The narrative uses different ways of talking about it, "taking the fruit", "getting bit by the snake", etc but the real point is that your absolute failure to read the bible as a narrative, and instead to insist on historicity as your primary way of reading scripture, is the root issue here because it causes you to be blind to the actual message of the Bible.

[chelseasdagger]

Restoring Faith

Father Paul Hill x Reader

Summary: You pay Father Paul one of your midnight visits and he finds himself struggling with his sworn devotion

Warnings: religious themes, sacrilege, smut, oral over clothes (m!receiving)

Author’s Note: This is a late birthday present for @chellestrash​ , my true love of my life, and I hope I’ve done this little idea you love justice :’) I’m absolutely positive I didn’t make it sounds as pretty as some of the other fics, but I hope it will be alright :)

Word Count: 4k

The cold air sends a shiver down your spine as the gravel crunches beneath your feet. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you keep your head down to protect your face from the wind. You follow the path that connects the great big church to the smaller house just behind it, the trail only visible due to the moonlight pouring down from above.

You’re no idiot, you’re aware anybody could see your somewhat frequent visits to see him. However, you convinced yourself that it was okay to go, so long as you waited past midnight to take the trip. Whether it was actually a valid excuse was a whole other subject. One you didn’t particularly want to think of and potentially use to talk yourself out of doing this.

Stepping up the old, creaky stairs of the small porch, you give one last glance over your shoulder to the abandoned street the church faces. There’s not a person in sight and you raise your hand to knock on the wooden door.

It opens after a moment and you smile at the sight of the priest in front of you. He’s dressed completely in black, excluding the stark white collar that frames his neck. You can’t help your eyes from giving him a quick once over, taking in the dark button up shirt tucked into the form fitting slacks that drape down his legs. His voice calling your name brings your gaze back to his face.

“How…,” he trails off, craning his neck higher and looking past you, “how can I help you?” His greeting is stiff, and you know he’s worried about curious eyes possibly seeing you here. You can’t fight the way your lips pull into a smirk at the idea of him already getting nervous.

“I just had a question, Father,” you begin to explain, and notice him looking at you with cautious eyes. “Is that not what you said? That we can come to you and seek guidance? Ask questions about our faith?” You can admit that it was slightly unfair using his own words against him, but it works all the same. He bows his head before nodding once, silently stepping aside and allowing you to walk inside.

It’s the same as it always was, with the couch being the only real centerpiece to the room. The curtains are drawn closed on each of the windows and it gives the sense of seclusion from the rest of the small island. The three lamps that line the right wall are all lit, painting everything in a warm glow. You’ll never get over how welcoming his home was, how it provided a safe space when you needed an escape. 

The sound of the door clicking shut makes you turn around to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, slightly hesitant as he stays silent and waits for you to speak first.

“Nobody saw me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you flash him a cheeky smirk. Paul responds wordlessly with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He steps further into the room, his arm brushing yours as he walks to the small, open kitchen area. 

“I haven’t seen you at Mass,” he finally breaks his silence. You watch as he grabs an empty glass from the drying rack beside the sink before filling it with water from the tap. “Can I get you anything?” he offers with wide eyes, motioning towards the cup in his hand.

“I was sick,” you pick the first thing that comes to mind, “allergy stuff since the weather is changing.” The lie rolls right off your tongue. You watch as he drinks his water down, fixating on the way his Adam's apple moves with each swallow. Giving yourself a mental shake, you answer his earlier question.

“And I’m okay, thanks,” you decline his offer as you lean against the back of the couch. The priest says nothing but gives a solemn look your way.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he speaks gently into the quiet room. His dark, brown eyes look sincere, enforcing the truth behind his words. There’s a small pout on his lips and you’re not sure if it’s from your faux illness or if he can somehow sense that you’re not speaking the truth. Either way, he continues with the conversation.

“But I’m glad you’re feeling better. W-What can I do for you?” He sets his glass down on the small counter beside him. “You… um, mentioned seeking guidance? What about?” His eyes are focused onto yours and you find yourself only able to keep eye contact for a few seconds before his stare feels like too much. 

“Well,” you begin with a light laugh under your breath, “I just wanted to have you read to me again.” Your fingers toy with the thick seam of the couch cushion. “Is that okay? It just—it helps, is all.” You’re not certain the explanation makes a ton of sense, but there is truth behind it. His words help; it relaxes you to come and listen to him read, even if you don’t always find yourself secure in the faith you grew up with.

When you look up at him again, Paul is standing with a genuine smile on his face. It’s clear he likes hearing that he can help, and you feel a twinge of guilt shoot through your chest at how he genuinely enjoys what he does. It makes you being here that much worse, knowing how content and devout he is.

“Of course, I-I can do that,” he replies, his voice somehow even quieter than before. “Did you have a certain story you wanted me to read from?”

You think over his question for only a short moment. Deep down, you knew you could listen to him speak about even the most mundane things, including what he had eaten for breakfast. His voice was the thing to calm you, not the words he spoke.

“I don’t really care. Whatever you��d like, whatever we left off with,” you flash him a small smile. The priest nods only once before walking towards his bedroom, disappearing into the shadows of the small corridor leading to the door.

You let out a big breath of air you weren’t even aware you were holding in. Being alone with him felt good, it always did, but you couldn’t deny the guilt once again growing in your chest. Deep down, you knew this was wrong, but it always felt good when the guilt shaped to something else. Something stronger and impossibly difficult to ignore.

There’s only a small moment for self reflection before you hear his footsteps echoing out on the wood floor again. You glance towards the sound and find him returning back into the main room with the Bible wedged between his arm and his side. His fingers are busy, rolling the fabric of his long sleeve up to just above his elbow. As inch after inch of his skin is exposed, you find yourself unable to look away from the veins trailing up the inside of his arm.

He repeats his actions on the opposite side, gazing up at you from under the few strands of hair that have fallen out of place. Your lip finds its way between your teeth subconsciously, your own way of anchoring yourself and ignoring the need to tuck the loose curls back behind his ear.

“In moments where I truly begin to doubt my faith, I…” he trails off, fixing the last roll of his cuff over his forearm. He grabs the Bible and brushes his thumb over the raised letters as he continues, “I like to look back on the story of Job.”

You can’t even stop the exasperated sigh that leaves your body. He looks up at the sound, his head tilted slightly like a confused puppy.

“Job? Really, Father? I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of restoring faith,” you curl your fingers to create air quotes over the last two words. Paul gives a small smile, lowering his head. He’s dealt with your opinions regarding faith and why God allows things to happen as He does.

“Maybe… maybe to some but I-I find that it’s a reminder,” his voice is quiet and calm, already slipping into his usual pattern of speech when he’s behind the lectern. He steps deeper into the living room and passes by you, making his way to the empty couch.

“A reminder to trust in Him even when we’re not sure of-of the path,” he finishes. You’re thankful he’s behind your back so he doesn’t see the way your eyes roll at his canned response. He must’ve seen the tension in your body though, taking note of the way your arms are still crossed over your chest, because he tries once more to get you to listen.

“You do remember that he was rewarded? In the end?”

“Yeah, but he went through hell to get it… hardly seems fair,” you answer him.

“Well, the Lord, He—,”

“If you say ‘Works in mysterious ways’…” you cut him off with a warning glare as you finally turn to face him.

Paul lets out a breathy laugh, staring down at the thick book in his hands. “I was only going to say that He doesn’t always…” he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, “reveal His plans to us in a way that makes sense at the time. That’s all,” he finishes with a tight-lipped smile.

There’s a brief moment of silence that hangs in the air as you wait for him to move past this conversation. His quick inhale fills the room as he clears his throat quietly, his arm gesturing towards the couch.

“Shall we?”

“Of course,” you respond softly, your words tucked under your breath. He walks around to the front of the couch, his eyes fixed on you as you follow his path. He sits down as his fingers curl around the blue, knitted blanket that’s sprawled out across the cushion beside him.

“Here, let me—,” he doesn’t finish his sentence before draping it across the back of the couch. There’s a spot for you now, close enough that you knew you’d be touching him if you sat beside him. As tempting as the offer is, you find yourself shaking your head gently.

“Is-is something wrong?” he asks, his big, dark eyes searching yours. They’re wide and innocent, truly worrying that he overstepped. Once again, you’re reminded of how pure the man before you is; you nearly reconsider your original idea that made you seek him out tonight in the first place.

You shake your head as you stand in front of him, silently kneeling down and sitting on the floor. The priest’s expression instantly grows apprehensive. You flash him an innocent smile but his unsure glare never falters.

“I’ll just listen from here,” you tell him, trying to ease his worries. He looks hesitant but eventually swallows before opening the Bible. His long fingers splay out across the thin pages, turning them one after the other before finally stopping on a page.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words flowing effortlessly off of his tongue. His voice falls into the deep, rumbly tone that you only ever hear when he’s reading to you. There’s no audience, no image he has to maintain, and the words are so quiet it seems almost as if he’s reading to himself. You’ve always preferred these moments, when he appeared the most authentic he could be.

The more he reads the more comfortable you feel. Your body begins to relax and an idea strikes up in your mind. As he turns the next page, bringing in a deep inhale to continue the sentence, you let your head rest against his knee.

He immediately stutters over his words, repeating the same sound over and over. He never breaks his concentration though, and eventually pushes through and finishes the sentence. Not before flashing you a warning look as you rest your cheek against his leg, though.

It isn’t entirely inappropriate and would even be seen as a normal, platonic gesture. But given his profession, you knew it was absolutely not appropriate. You don’t pull away however, just keep your body slumped against his leg.

He continues speaking the old words, his pronounced sentences dissipating into muttered whispers the longer he goes on. Admittedly, you felt special that this tone was reserved only for you; there was a faint flare of pride in your chest knowing that you were the only one to hear his words so rumbly it’s as if they never fully left his chest.

At some point though, you begin to grow bored of just sitting there and waiting for him to finish. Usually these late night reads brought your anxiety down enough just to fall asleep on the priest, leaving him in the most awkward position of not knowing how to convince himself any of this was okay. But right now, you’d rather have some fun.

Paul knew something was up the second he saw your hand reaching towards him out of the corner of his eye. The muscles in his leg immediately tense, you feel it from under your skin. But you don’t want to raise his suspicion so soon.

Stretching further towards the Bible in his lap, you spread your fingers and place both palms over each side. Once his view is completely shielded from the printed words, he immediately looks into your mischievous eyes.

“What—what are you doing?” he asks confusedly. His eyebrows are pulled together as he awaits your answer.

“Just wanted to see how much you knew,” you reply genuinely. You knew the man had poured over this book time and time again, searching for meanings deeper than the blatant lessons that were spelled out for the reader. It always sent a conflicting feeling coursing through you, the way he could recite word after word from memory as if he was the one who had conjured them up. Conflicting because you liked the reminder of how devout he was, and isn’t that just a multifaceted guilt trip.

Paul smiles at your youthful game, and mentally accepts the challenge. He parts his lips before the words fall from his tongue.

“And when the days of the feast had run their course, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all,” he begins, never looking away from your face as he repeats them with no hesitation.

“For Job said, ‘It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.’” The priest can’t stop from chuckling at the end of his sentence, having looked at your own genuine, bright grin. “Thus Job did continually.”

Once he’s finished, he flashes you his own smile before glancing down at your hands covering the pages still. You slowly remove them, giggling under your breath at how he passed your unofficial test.

The priest licks his lips once before clearing his throat gently, continuing again with his reading. As the minutes pass, you find yourself not paying much attention to the actual weight of the words. You just focus on his muttering voice until you're reminded of how sweet his last stutter sounded. And because you just can’t help yourself, you’re determined to hear it again.

Snaking your hand up his thigh, you feel his body grow stiff all over again. That adorable stutter becomes prominent once more, his eyes quickly focusing on your fingers rubbing up the inside of his leg as he attempts to finish the paragraph. Trying to pace your plan, you curl your fingers around his thigh and give him a moment to get used to the feeling.

“What are you doing?” These words are the coldest he’s spoken all night, yet you stay silent and wait. It takes him longer this time to finally react, to give his consent in the smallest agreement possible. It’s so minuscule that anybody else wouldn’t have noticed, but you know him awfully more than you should.

Half a nod. That’s all it takes, and you let your fingers graze lightly over the black slacks. They're taught from how he’s sitting, and you can see the outline of his thigh through the stretched material. His voice shakes now, the tone less steady and sure, as he forces himself to keep reading.

You’ve got to admit he’s doing better than you thought. He doesn’t stop reading, you assume he’s just trying to focus on something else, anything but your hand moving between his thighs. You must’ve hit a sweet spot though, inching near the little alcove where his thigh meets his hip, because the next thing you hear is a shuddering exhale as he halts his reading. 

And there it is only a second later—the outline of his cock showing through the dark dress pants. It never took very long, although this time it seems even quicker than usual. He continues to grow there, until you can see the fabric straining to accommodate for his now swollen head. You’ve barely touched him and he’s already so responsive.

Now that you can physically see the effect you have on him, there’s truly nothing that can stop you. Sure the nagging guilt is still in the back of your mind, telling you that you shouldn’t do this, but you push it away as much as you can. He looks so tempting right now: the loose strands of hair falling into his face, his lip caught between his teeth as he suppresses his groans, the faint twitch his cock gives when he feels your finger lightly drag along the base of his length. You love seeing him this desperate for you.

Your one finger lightly tracing the length of him is truly all it takes for the first twitch to happen in his trousers. The sight makes your mouth nearly water and you finally curl your fingers around him properly. Your grip isn’t too tight considering it’s over two layers of clothes, but it doesn’t stop the choked grunt from finally escaping his lips.

Still you continue, leaning closer until your breath is fanning over the bulge. He feels it, you can tell from the way his fingers clutch the book that’s resting on his other leg. The veins in the back of his hand become more prominent the harder he grabs it. Every part of his body is conflicting itself; he wants it but he knows he shouldn’t.

Still you wait, staring up at him and silently asking again if this is okay. He doesn’t stall as much this time—his eyes squeeze shut tightly before nodding quickly again, forcing another inhale through his nose.

You don’t waste a second and quickly press your tongue flat against the outline of his tip. Slowly licking along the length, you watch his body reel from how hard his stomach clenches at the feeling. He begins to shut the Bible but you grab his wrist before it can close all the way. You shake your head slowly, attempting to convince him to keep it open.

“Y…You know I can’t.”

“I like hearing you, Father,” you mumble quietly in the room. He stares down at you with an expression you can’t quite describe. There’s no emotion on his face, but his eyes look pained, no doubt from the name you referred to him as. He hardly moves except for the shallow breaths that you can only notice because of how close you are to him.

Waiting for his reaction seems to drag on for hours before he finally sighs through his nose and opens the book. You notice the way his fingers shake as he smooths out the page before trying to remember where he left off. Your lips pull into a smile as you hear his strained voice fill the room.

Squeezing the base of his cock tighter, you drag your tongue across his tip again before wrapping your lips around it. The story is cut off with his deep grunt, and you hum around him at the pleasant noise. The priest has his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to regain his composure.

You knew this was an awful, sacrilegious act you two were doing, but it doesn’t stop the heat growing between your legs. Leaning closer into him, you work your mouth on him faster, sucking harder through the fabric. His hand closest to you grips the edge of the seat as he seethes through his teeth.

Paul finally looks down at you, staring into your eyes that have never once left his face. You hold his gaze before glancing wordlessly to the book still in his hand. The whimper that he barely slips out is your new favorite sound, replaying it in your head as you shut your eyes.

“A-As long as… m…my breath,” he’s cut off with a shaky inhale. He tries to read aloud, but his voice trembles the entire time.

“Keep going, Father,” you pull your mouth away from the outline in his black trousers to encourage him. There’s a long, dark stripe along the fabric from your tongue, but another wet patch where the head of his cock is straining against the material.

“As long as my-my breath is in me, and t-the spirit of God is in my nostrils—,” he’s finding each word more impossible to speak. You never allow him to give up though, rubbing your hand over his thigh to support him.

“My lips will not speak f…falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit.” He manages to finish the paragraph before taking deep breaths, swallowing thickly and trying his damndest to not look at the sinful scene in his lap. But his body betrays him once more, twitching into your mouth when you hum sweetly around him as a reward for finishing what you asked him to.

Pressing your tongue right in the ridge under his swollen head, you hear a new sound escape his pressed lips. It's a guttural, raw twist of your name and it’s unexpected.

“Oh… Oh—Wait,” he tries to warn you but it’s much too late. His release happens without him realizing, his body moving while his mind doesn’t have a chance to catch up. When you feel him pulsing in your mouth you glance up at him and oh, what a sight it is.

He’s completely disheveled, biting down into his hand to muffle the noise he’s ashamed for anyone to hear, and the veins in his neck are protruding just above the edge of his collar. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but you always make sure to memorize the sight down to those details. To always keep the picture in your mind.

What really catches your attention though, is the stream of white bubbling up through the taught fabric around his sensitive tip. You didn’t realize he would have finished quite this fast, but you definitely don’t mind it. Squeezing the middle of his length tightly, you slowly slide your hand up, determined to get all of it out of him.

Paul’s thighs are beginning to shake from the sensation and you can only imagine how good it must feel for him. You stick your tongue out as you lap up the mess he’s made, and his thighs jolt to close around your body. His sensitivity to your every touch leaves a desire that burns hotly in the bottom of your stomach. You love the feeling of having power over him, admittedly too much.

Once he’s clean, you finally let go of him altogether and sit back on your legs. He’s left panting in awe as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You wish you could see inside his head, try and understand what he’s thinking. But right now his dark eyes are glossed over and he looks as if he’s somewhere completely else.

“Thank you, Father.”

He scrunches his eyes shut tightly the second the words fill the air. It’s silent except for his panting as you rest your head on his knee once more. This time it is a platonic action, your way of showing him you’re there without words. And there you sit beside your priest in the small, old house behind the great big church, with the weight of everything that just happened.

[expulence]

💎💄Luxury Makeup 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 for a Flawless Look💄💎

With the popularity of skincare these past few years came the desire to achieve a more natural 'your-skin-but-better' makeup look.

♡...Enter the 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵 makeup look...♡

It was characterised by minimal use of makeup and an emphasis on enhancing your natural beauty. The foundation needs to look like skin, and the lipstick like natural healthy and plump lips. As simple as this all sounds, it is quite an art form.

So where do you start?

Well, when it comes to achieving a flawless makeup look, quality products can make all the difference. Investing in luxury makeup can elevate your beauty routine and give you a professional finish. Furthermore as high-end products are concerned, a little goes a long way.

Here's a curated list of essential luxury makeup products that you might need in your collection:

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖝𝖎𝖔𝖓:

A high-quality foundation is the key to a flawless base. Look for a luxury foundation that matches your skin tone perfectly and provides a smooth, even coverage. Brands like Dior and Giorgio Armani offer a range of luxurious foundations that blend seamlessly into the skin, giving you a natural yet polished finish. A good quality concealer can make stubborn blemishes vanish without a thick and unnatural finish.

How to Use:

Apply the foundation using a beauty blender or a foundation brush, starting from the center of your face and blending outwards. Make sure to blend well into your jawline and neck for a seamless look. Start with a light layer and be sure to spot conceal any visible blemishes. This creates a flawless base without the cakey look of layered foundation.

High-end Foundatation/Base Recomendations:

Dior Face and Body Foundation

Giorgio Armani Luminous Silk Foundation

NARS Radiant Creamy Concealer

𝕷𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖊𝖘:

No makeup look is complete without mascara. A luxury mascara can add volume, length, and definition to your lashes, instantly opening up your eyes and making them pop. Choose a higher-end mascara from brands like Too Faced or Yves Saint Laurent for a smoother application, intense pigmentation and long-lasting wear.

How to Use:

Start by curling your lashes with an eyelash curler, then apply the mascara from the roots to the tips in a gentle zig-zag motion. Build up layers for added volume and intensity.

High-end Mascara Recomendations:

Too Face Better Than Sex Mascara

MAC Extended Play Lash

𝕷𝖎𝖕𝖘:

A swipe of luxury lipstick can instantly elevate your look and add a touch of glamour. Opt for a smooth that compliments your skintone from brands like Tom Ford or Charlotte Tilbury for a creamy, long-lasting formula that feels comfortable on the lips. Some sheer lipgloss further elevates the look and adds to the glowy final product.

How to Use:

Start by outlining your lips with a lip liner for precision, then fill in the lips with the subdued lipstick shade of your choice. Ad a layer of clear, light pink of peachy lip gloss for an extra glow.

High-end Lipstick/Lipgloss Recomendations:

Bobbi Brown Luxe Lip Color

LANEIGE Lip Glowy Balm

𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕭𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖘:

A versatile eyeshadow palette is a must-have for creating a variety of eye looks, from subtle daytime glam to sultry evening styles. Invest in a luxury palette from brands like Natasha Denona or Pat McGrath for a range of pigmented shades and buttery textures. A single decent brow pencil can last you ages and carry you through various looks too.

How to use:

Start by applying an eyeshadow primer and choosing neutral shades that complement your skin tone. Apply a transition shade in the crease, followed by a light shimmer shade on the eyelid. Blend the edges for a seamless gradient and define the lash line with a dark eyeshadow powde. For your brows, brush them in the direction of hair growth, fill in the soparc3 areas gently with a brow pencil or powder for a more natural look.

High-end Eyeshadow/Brow Recomendations:

LAURA GELLER NEW YORK The Delectables Earthy Essentials Baked Eyeshadow Palette

Anastasia Beverly Hills - Brow Wiz

By incorporating these luxury makeup must-haves into your beauty routine, you can achieve a flawless look that exudes sophistication and elegance. Experiment with different shades and techniques to discover what works best for you, and enjoy the transformative power of high-quality makeup products.

But never forget..

💰𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲💰

[seraphim-eternal]

having loved his own, he loved them to the end.

[seasidesprout]

Heartnose Halloween day 27

Favourite horror game

🎡👥⛪️|🎡👥⛪️|🎡👥⛪️

[blueiscoool]

1,500-Year-Old Christian Ivory Reliquary Box Discovered in Austria

Archaeologists have discovered an exceptional Christian ancient ivory reliquary box in Austria that is thought to be around 1,500 years old.

Innsbruck archaeologists have been excavating in an old hilltop settlement in southern Austria since the summer of 2016. They made the incredible discovery of a Christian reliquary concealed in a previously unknown church two years ago. This reliquary contained an ancient ivory box, richly decorated with Christian symbols.

The incredible artifact was discovered on August 4, 2022, in an early Christian church on the Burgbichl hill in Irschen, southern Austria, by a team headed by archaeologist Gerald Grabherr. A marble shrine measuring around 20 by 30 centimeters was hidden under the altar in the side chapel area.

The artifact in question is heavily fragmented, but researchers said the pieces once formed a type of round container known as a “pyx” that in this case was made of ivory and richly decorated with Christian motifs.

The shrine contained a heavily fragmented ivory “box” (pyx) richly decorated with Christian motifs – a reliquary that is normally taken away as the “holiest” part when a church is abandoned. In this case, however, it was left behind. It is the first such pyx to be found in an archaeological context in Austria.

“We know of around 40 ivory boxes of this kind worldwide and, as far as I know, the last time one of these was found during excavations was around 100 years ago – the few pyxes that exist are either preserved in cathedral treasures or exhibited in museums,” explains the finder, Gerald Grabherr.

While the archaeologists initially assumed that the remains of a saint – i.e. a relic in the classic sense of the word – were also found in the marble box, the layering of the fragments found in the shrine indicates that the ivory pyx was already broken in late antiquity and was buried in the altar.

“The pyx was presumably also seen as sacred and was treated as such because it was in contact with a relic. The archaeological and art-historical significance of the pyx cannot be denied,” emphasizes Gerald Grabherr.

At one end, the pyx shows a figure at the foot of a mountain – the man depicted is turning his gaze away and a hand rising out of the sky above him, placing something between the person’s arms.

“This is the typical depiction of the handing over of the laws to Moses on Mount Sinai, the beginning of the covenant between God and man from the Old Testament,” says Gerald Grabherr. This is followed by depictions of biblical figures. At the end, you can see a man on a chariot with two horses harnessed to it – and here, too, a hand coming out of the clouds pulls this figure up into heaven. “We assume that this is a depiction of the ascension of Christ, the fulfilment of the covenant with God. The depiction of scenes from the Old Testament and their connection with scenes from the New Testament New Testament is typical of late antiquity and thus fits in with our pyx; however, the depiction of the Ascension of Christ with a so-called biga, a two-horse chariot, is very special and previously unknown.”

Since its discovery, the 1,500-year-old ivory pyx has been conserved at the University of Innsbruck.

Ivory stored underground absorbs moisture, making it very soft and easily damaged. Uncontrolled drying can lead to shrinkage and cracks.

Ulrike Töchterle, head of the restoration workshop in Innsbruck, said, “The high humidity in the marble shrine meant there was a high risk of condensation and mold, so we had to ensure a careful and prolonged drying process.”

Over the past two years, the individual pieces of the ivory pyx have been conserved for scientific analysis. The larger parts are deformed, so the pyx cannot be restored to its original state. However, researchers are working on a 3D reconstruction.

By Oguz Buyukyildirim.

[teckskeleton]

[r55r5r]

The Spiderwick Chronicles (2024) house is fucking incredible

[spurgie-cousin]

JROD IS ON HER WAY TO VEGAS (with Kaylee and Gideon) THIS IS NOT A DRILL

It’s in the 100 degree heat index this week in NY where I live, I hope to god those two aren’t going to traipse a baby around outside on the strip if it’s even hotter in NV

My prediction: they’re not going to leave the proximity of the hotel. I feel like they’re about to have some extreme culture shock

I honestly can't wait to see all her complaints 😭 I have a stripper friend in LV and I'm so tempted to hire her to just say hi to Jill at her hotel in one of her flashiest work outfits

So far we know that Jill hates that it's called sin city (not enough to not go there though i guess) ☹️ but she loves the bright lights 😬!

[bluesidedown]

🤦‍♀️