#In the lords word it shares ;Those who profit over blood money

[seachranaidhe]

Vengeance is mine says the Lord

And it is only right and fitting that the Lord take on board what these men and women have done all for the Love of Money they have crushed Ireland and they have crushed his people as they have suffered a loss of families All because of they agreed so again I share these words and daily I will pray to the lord to stop those who have gained from these troubles and I will ask the lord to punish…

[longitudinalwaveme]

Arkham Files: Dr. Alchemy/Dr. Albert Desmond/Mr. Element

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Dr. Albert Desmond, also known as Dr. Alchemy and Mr. Element. Patient suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder. Session One. So, Dr. Desmond, how are you feeling? 

Dr. Alchemy: Go away. I’m reading. 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Desmond, I promise that you will be able to return to your books as soon as this session is over. But for right now, I need you to talk to me. 

Dr. Alchemy: I am not interested in conversation. Leave me alone. 

Hugo Strange: I’m afraid I cannot do that, Dr. Desmond. As your psychologist, I have a responsibility to maintain your well-being. 

Dr. Alchemy: I have read countless books on the subject of psychology, Dr. Strange. There is nothing you can teach me that I do not already know. 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Desmond, this is not about knowledge. It is about helping you to live a more productive life. 

Dr. Alchemy: Dr. Desmond would likely appreciate the sentiment, but he isn’t here right now. So please, leave me to my studies. I have important work to do, and no time for idle chatter. 

Hugo Strange: I take it I am speaking to one of Dr. Desmond’s alters, then? 

Dr. Alchemy: Yes. I am Doctor Alchemy. Now kindly go away and leave me alone. 

Hugo Strange: I’m afraid that I cannot do that, Dr. Alchemy. As your psychologist, it would be irresponsible of me not to hold these therapy sessions with you. 

Dr. Alchemy: You are not my psychologist; you are Dr. Desmond’s psychologist. Dr. Desmond is not here right now, so you have no responsibilities in this room. Go away. 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Alchemy, you and Dr. Desmond share the same body, and are fragmented parts of the same basic personality. Medically and legally, both of you are my patients...as are any other alters that may exist. 

Dr. Alchemy: Be that as it may, I have nothing to say to you. Go away.

Hugo Strange: (Sighs) If I arrange to have some more rare books delivered to your room, will you agree to participate in the session, Dr. Alchemy? 

Dr. Alchemy: (Pleased) Yes. Thank you, Dr. Strange. (Pause) What do you want to know? 

Hugo Strange: According to your files, you are a very educated man. You have PhDs in chemistry, biochemistry, and molecular biology. You could easily earn money legitimately...and, in fact, Dr. Desmond does just that in his career at S.T.A.R. Labs. Why, then, did you choose to become a costumed criminal? 

Dr. Alchemy: Research is expensive, Dr. Strange. How else was I to fund my experiments? 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Desmond usually asks for grant money. 

Dr. Alchemy: Only because he wastes our talents on safe, predictable work. I, on the other hand, push the boundaries of established science. That frightens the complacent and the simple-minded, and as such, they dismiss my work as lunacy and refuse to help me in my endeavors to expand humanity’s understanding of the cosmos. 

Hugo Strange: Even if that is true, Dr. Alchemy, your file indicates that you are a metahuman with the power to transmute the elements at will. Why not use that power to create gold or silver, sell it for a profit, and use that to fund your experiments? 

Dr. Alchemy: And debase my powers by using them for something as mundane as earning petty cash from the mindless multitudes? Never. 

Hugo Strange: But you’re perfectly willing to use those same powers to steal money from the same mindless multitude? 

Dr. Alchemy: Of course. I am the lord of the very elements! It is my right to take whatever I desire. 

Hugo Strange: You are stealing! Like a common thief! 

Dr. Alchemy: A common thief could not turn your blood into formaldehyde, Dr. Strange. 

Hugo Strange: Was that a threat, Dr. Alchemy? 

Dr. Alchemy: No, not a threat. Merely a reminder of your position. 

Hugo Strange: (Angry) Let me make one thing clear, Dr. Alchemy. When you were sent here, you were, effectively, declared a ward of the state. I am the head of this Asylum. I want to help you, but if you prove to be a threat to me, the other patients, or the staff, I will authorize that you be put on a regime of enough antipsychotic drugs to all but kill your conscious mind. 

Dr. Alchemy: (Quiet laugh) And break your Hippocratic Oath by sentencing poor Dr. Desmond to a living death? I don’t believe you have that in you, Dr. Strange.

Hugo Strange: (Icily) To prevent one of the most powerful metahumans in the world from laying waste to this institution? There is very little I would not do, Dr. Alchemy. Metahuman power dampeners have a very limited effect on you, and I am not enough of a fool to rely solely on your goodwill to keep you in check. 

Dr. Alchemy: (Quickly) In that case, I rescind my reminder. 

Hugo Strange: I’m glad to hear that, Dr. Alchemy. (Pause) So tell me, what is your relationship with your city’s scarlet-clad vigilante? 

Dr. Alchemy: The Flash? He’s an impediment to my research, nothing more. 

Hugo Strange: And your decision to put on a costume was in no way inspired by him? 

Dr. Alchemy: Perhaps on some level. But he means nothing to me. Dr. Desmond is the one who cares about him. 

Hugo Strange: In that case, will you permit me to speak with Dr. Desmond? 

Dr. Alchemy: Certainly not. That weak-willed fool would only interfere with my studies. 

Dr. Hugo Strange: If you cooperate, I’ll see what I can do about getting you a first-edition copy of The Grapes of Wrath. 

Dr. Alchemy: Very well. If I can find Dr. Desmond, I’ll let him know that he wishes to speak with you. 

(Long pause) 

Hugo Strange: Are you all right, Dr. Alchemy? 

Albert: (in a voice that is similar to, but distinguishable from, Dr. Alchemy’s) W-where am I? What’s going on? 

Hugo Strange: (Realizing) Is this Dr. Albert Desmond? 

Albert: Y-yes. (Pause) Who are you? What is this place? What am I doing here? 

Hugo Strange: I am Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. What is the last thing you remember, Dr. Desmond? 

Albert: I...I was at home with my wife, Rita. She was making dinner, and I felt a headache coming on, so I went outside to get some fresh air and-(Pause) Oh, no. It happened again, didn’t it? 

Hugo Strange: I’m afraid so, Dr. Desmond. A week ago, Dr. Alchemy was captured by the Flash whilst attempting to turn an entire stadium’s worth of people into tungsten. Since Iron Heights Penitentiary is currently incapable of holding metahuman criminals, it was decided that he should be transferred to Arkham Asylum, pending his trial. 

Albert: Not again...not again!  It’s been three years since the last time. I thought that the nightmare was finally over. 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Desmond, the courts are aware of your… highly unusual...form of Dissociative Identity Disorder. You will almost certainly be declared not guilty by reason of insanity. 

Albert: And then they’ll lock me away in a hospital instead of a prison. Rita and I...we have a baby son! Is he going to grow up with his father shut away in a mental institution? (Pause) I should have had her divorce me. At least that way she wouldn’t be raising our son all by herself. And she wouldn’t have to worry about both her and the baby being murdered by a costumed maniac! 

Hugo Strange: Neither of your alters have ever actually murdered someone, Dr. Desmond. 

Albert: No. But from what I’ve been told, it hasn’t been from lack of trying. (Pause) I let her marry me. I knew what I was, and I let her marry a monster. 

Hugo Strange: You are not a monster, Dr. Desmond. Your family members, the police and judicial departments of Central City, and even your city’s costumed vigilante all swear as to your good moral character. 

Albert: Good moral character? Dr. Strange, both of my alters are criminals; which means that there’s a part of me...there’s a part of me that wants to do the things they do. If there wasn’t, surely I would have been able to get rid of them by now. The fact that I haven’t proves that I don’t have good morals. 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Desmond, do you ever remember the actions of your alters? 

Albert: Almost never. (Pause) I usually end up finding out about it after the fact. You have no idea how horrible it is to have someone tell you that your body went on a crime spree that you don’t remember anything about. 

Hugo Strange: In other words, you have dissociative amnesia during the periods in which your alters are dominant. (Pause) Do you make an effort to prevent your alters from emerging, Dr. Desmond? 

Albert: Of course I do! I take medication, I exercise, I ensure that I always get a full night’s rest, I go to therapy….I don’t want to be a monster. 

Hugo Strange: A monster wouldn’t battle his illness in the way that you do, Dr. Desmond. You are not a monster. You are ill, and through no fault of your own. 

Albert: I...I wish I could believe that, Dr. Strange. (Pause) But honestly? I’m starting to think that maybe I should just be locked up forever. It would...it would be better for everyone. 

(Long pause) 

Hugo Strange: Dr. Desmond? Dr. Desmond, are you all right? 

Mr. Element: (in a voice that is similar to, but distinguishable from, Dr. Alchemy and Albert’s voices) I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong man, Doc.

Hugo Strange: Who are you? And what happened to Dr. Desmond? 

Mr. Element: Nothing. I just decided to take control. It seems that Doc Alchemy’s actions have caused him to almost give up hope completely this time, and that meant he couldn’t put up much of a fight against me. (Pause) Thanks for getting Doc Alchemy to give up control voluntarily, by the way. You have no idea how tough it is to win fights for control with that guy. 

Hugo Strange: I take it you’re Mr. Desmond’s other alter? 

Mr. Element: That’s right, Doc. You can call me Mr. Element. 

Hugo Strange: Not Dr. Element? 

Mr. Element: Nah. The other two got most of the brains, I’m afraid. It’s why I’m not as powerful as either one of ‘em. (Pause) Not that you’d know it from looking at Albert, of course. He’s got no idea how powerful he really is. He’s even more powerful than Doc Alchemy! 

Hugo Strange: I suppose that that makes a certain amount of sense. Dr. Desmond is, after all, the personality from which the two of you split off. Perhaps that allows him to mainline the power, so to speak. (Pause) So, Mr. Element, why do you commit crimes in a silly costume? 

Mr. Element: To get money and attention. Doc Alchemy could care less about that sort of thing, and Albert’s too much of a goody-good to admit that he wants either, so it’s up to me to make sure people remember us. 

Hugo Strange: And the costume, was it inspired by the Flash? 

Mr. Element: No. It was based on our fascination with elements. The mask was so that I could inhale pure oxygen; I used a carbon atom as my symbol because life has its basis in carbon-you get the idea. Albert’s the one who has an emotional connection to the Speedster. 

Hugo Strange: Yes, yes. Dr. Alchemy said the same thing. (Pause) So, are either you or Dr. Alchemy Rogues, Mr. Element? 

Mr. Element: No. Doc Alchemy and I both prefer to work solo. Besides, I think the Doc kind of freaks them out. 

Hugo Strange: Are there any particular concerns you want to talk to me about, Mr. Element? 

Mr. Element: Not really. Albert’s the one with the hang-ups. 

Hugo Strange: In that case, I am going to bring this session to a close. I need some time to reflect on your case and how to best treat it. It is noticeably abnormal, and I will need to adjust my strategies accordingly.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

The London Shadow Market - Centurions on a mission (Fan Fic)

This is a one-shot Tynush fan fic.

London Shadow Market. Centurions Tiberius Blackthorn and Anush Joshi are on mission for the Scholomance, tied to the First Heir, and Ty gets a bit overprotective.

It's a bit angsty and though there is mention of sex, there is no sex scene/smut.

Big thanks to @amchara who beta-read the fic (and notably helped with her thorough knowledge of London) and who also sparked the idea, since we discussed how there could never be enough of overprotective Blackthorns fic.

****

It was long past midnight and the London Shadow Market’s lights were fading one after the other. Fenwick was wrapping up for the night, muttering about what an awful evening it had been. Only a dozen customers buying baubles. Overpriced, but still. Long gone were the days where he could earn in an evening what now took him a month to scrounge. The new Inquisitor, Diego Rosales, was knowledgeable, relentless, and incorruptible. It didn’t help that the new Unseelie King also frowned on his barely-to-not-legal-at-all side businesses. The most profitable ones, as it happened. He still had the favour of the Seelie Queen, but even she, in her eagerness to make peace with King Kieran, was not as frequent a client as she used to be.

So, when he heard the bell ring announcing that a customer had just crossed the threshold of his magically enhanced oversized tent, Fenwick immediately perked up. His cheerful mood was of short duration.

Two dark-haired figures had stepped into his dimly lit tent, one at least a head taller than the other, but both with a graceful warrior stance that betrayed what they were despite the obscurity.

Shadowhunters. And not any kind. The worst kind if you asked him. Those who knew much more about the Fair Folk than the fey had ever cared to reveal. They even kept secrets from the other Nephilim. That’s how world-altering their knowledge was. Centurions. And they were in their black uniforms, their silvery pins gleaming in the light of the candles scattered around the tent, not even bothering to conceal their identity.

Fenwick was torn between bolting out – on the off chance that he managed to outrun them – to lay low in one of his numerous hideouts (for a few decades at least) and standing his ground, trying to weasel his way out of this uncomfortable situation. What made up his decision was the weariness that gripped him at the mere idea of running. The centuries he had strolled around the Earth made him feel like an overstretched rubber band.

“Well met, Sons of the Angel!” He said, forcing a cheerful tone.

“Well, met,” the smaller, wheatish-skinned one answered. He had a warm, lyrical voice. As he took a few steps forward inside the tent, Fenwick tried very hard not to flinch. Up close, he had a very handsome face, high cheekbones framing his narrow and delicate nose. Strong thick eyebrows made a perfect arc over his big almond-shaped brown eyes. His bright yet calm demeanour compelled you to trust him. But Fenwick knew better.

The taller one didn’t greet him. He was already strolling lazily around the tent, scanning the shelves. He was standing with his back to Fenwick, so that all that Fenwick could see of him was black hair and a dark uniform, a circle of thorns etched across the back of his jacket.

“What brings you to my humble shop?”

The question had been directed at the politest of the two, but he didn’t seem to hear, entirely focused on stealing covert glances at his fellow Centurion. His expression was wistful, almost reverent.

Fenwick considered it. He knew how lonely they got sometimes, hidden between harsh grounds and cold stones in the Carpathian Mountains. Some were known to suffer depression, if not mental illness. He used to interact frequently with them, in the past, until the Scholomance was closed in 1872, with the signing of the First Accords. He sold them information, and sometimes a good time.

“You are in luck, Centurions. I have several pretty mermaids who have just joined Fenwick’s lair. At least two of them have a kink for strong Nephilim such as yourselves.” After all, King Kieran had started a trend… “We also have the usual nixies, pixies, goblins, hobgoblins, brownies, and even a djinn for those who have more… particular tastes. Everything happens on Seelie territory and is strictly legal of course. I have the paperwork.”

The light brown skinned Centurion looked like he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. He coughed a little to hide it before swiftly saying, “Nothing of the sort.”

“We heard you were selling. We are buying.” The taller one spoke for the first time. He had a deep voice, with a rich timber to it. As he glanced over his shoulder, the candles’ light played along his face, revealing his striking features. Fenwick stifled a gasp. His merchant’s mind was already calculating what he could earn with such a possession. Faerie lords – even princes – would pay handsomely – a fortune – to enjoy the boy’s company.

“What is it that you care to acquire from old Fenwick?” he said in a honey voice. “Certainly not a love potion. Someone who looks like you must never be in need of it.” The Centurion’s expression remained impassive, yet Fenwick thought he saw a shadow flicker across his eyes. “Your pretty face is so much like a faerie’s. I almost took you for one of our kind.”

The other Centurion cleared his throat loudly, and when he had caught Fenwick’s attention, shot him a glare, his deep brown eyes cold as ice. A warning. Fenwick knew in that instant that if he ever wanted to get his hands on the pretty Nephilim, he would have to go through his companion first.

“What we want…” he said in a clipped tone, “cannot be touched, tasted, or inhaled.”

“Information, then,” Fenwick replied automatically upon hearing the code. A chill went up his spine. Did they know? Only one way to find out. “And what type of information do you seek?”

“You know exactly which one. Please do not waste any more precious minutes of our mortal lives. Name your price.”

Fenwick told him. The Centurion approached Fenwick’s counter and, without a word, retrieved a pouch from inside his jacket - Fenwick recognized it as fey craftsmanship of the finest sort and, though it did not bear the Unseelie Court’s sigil, had most certainly come from it - and started counting bills. His curiosity got the better of him.

“What do you want with the First Heir?” He blurted. “I didn’t know it was the Scholomance’s job to look for him. Other Nephilim – if not as skilled – have already been assigned to the task.”

“We have the money. Our business with him is our own,” he replied dismissively.

Fenwick glanced at the other tall Centurion, who had remained silent during the exchange. He had retrieved a crystal orb from one of the shelves and was turning it over in his long pale fingers.

“Careful with that! It’s fragile! And expensive. If you break it, you pay it.”

“Twenty-one,” he replied.

“Pray tell?”

“The number of laws you have broken with the content of these shelves. I am not talking about the items you keep in your back store.”

“Tiberius,” his companion warned, before forcing a smile to Fenwick’s benefit. “Here’s the money. Give us the information and we’ll be on our way.”

Fenwick’s gaze zeroed on the bills spread over his counter. He did the usual checks, doing as best as he could to hide his excitement.

“Okay,” he drawled, when they had come out to be the real deal. He gave them the First Heir’s address. The Centurion’s lips twitched but his face remained otherwise blank. He acknowledged with a stiff nod and whirled around.

“I can give you one more information. Free of charge.”

The Centurion paused and glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised in question.

“The First Heir. He has power beyond your wildest imagination. Even mighty warriors such as yourselves will have a hard time capturing him. But he has a family that he loves dearly and would be willing to die for. If you take his little sister hostage, you can obtain whatever you want from him.”

Fenwick startled at the sound of glass shattering. He glanced over to find that the tall, silent, Nephilim – Tiberius, his companion had called him – had closed his long fingers on the orb, with apparently enough pressure and force that it had broken into multiple shards. He was now watching with remote interest as blood escaped from his clenched fist and started running like crimson strings over his knuckles and wrist. He didn’t look the least bit concerned by the sight.

“Hey! You will pay for this!” Fenwick said, taking consolation in the fact that, as expensive as the item was, they probably had the money.

“That’s funny,” Tiberius said in a tone that suggested it wasn’t at all. “I was about to say the exact same thing.”

He hadn’t seen him coming, but from one moment to the next, the Nephilim was in Fenwick’s face, a dagger pressed against the fey’s throat.

Fenwick thought he looked more animal than human as he cocked his head, his gray eyes feral. “Earlier you said that I look like a fey. Well, there is at least one trait that I share with the Fair Folk. I. Don’t. Lie. So, trust me when I tell you this. If you so much as harm a hair on that little girl’s head, my pretty face will be the last thing you’ll ever see. The same goes for any other member of her family. I will hunt you down, scour each one of your rabbit holes and I don’t care if it takes every single second I have left of my mortal life.”

“Tiberius,” the other Centurion crooned. “Tiberius. We are done here. Let’s go home.” Fenwick realized with a jolt of surprise that he had moved soundlessly to rest his hand on Tiberius’ shoulder and was rubbing it, tracing small circles around the joint. It was such an intimate gesture that Fenwick wondered if he had misread earlier when he had thought to witness unrequited love.

Tiberius blinked a few times, then started whispering urgently under his breath. Fenwick couldn’t make sense of what he was saying. It sounded like random words. The Centurion finally narrowed his gaze at Fenwick and mouthed “I don’t lie” one last time before he whirled and both Nephilim disappeared in a blur of dark fabric, out of the tent and into the night, as swiftly as they had come. Fenwick, frozen in terror, hoped with all his immortal’s heart that all of it had only been a bad dream.

***

Anush exhaled the cold and moist London air, his breath coming in frosty white puffs, as he drew an Iratze on the back of Ty’s hand. It had become so frequent lately that he sometimes caught himself wishing Centurions were allowed to be parabatai so that his runes were more effective, but discarded the idea as soon as it crossed his mind. He would not have been allowed to feel the way he did about Ty. And parabatai definitely did not do the things they did.

“I can’t believe he lived during the time of Berlioz. Do you think he met him? If so, I would have a thousand more questions to ask him.”

Ty didn’t answer. He was lost in thought, stroking his heron-shaped pendant with his free hand, his face pale as the moon tilted upwards toward the night sky as if he was counting the stars.

“Hey,’ Anush said softly. “It was the wrong address. So that’s one more snitch to strike off our list.”

“He had the right country, though. That’s a first. They’re closing in.”

“That’s okay, Ty. We will be one step ahead, as always.”

Anush had probably not been convincing enough, as Ty suddenly tensed, his breathing coming in short, shallow gasps, and his hand, still resting in Anush’s palm, started shaking. Anush closed his fingers around Ty’s and murmured soothing words that he knew his fellow Centurion liked, as he gently rubbed his shoulder with his free hand. “Whisper, glass, twin, secret, stars, cloud, castle, crystal, Christopher…”

Ty’s shoulders relaxed slightly. He closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath.

“Hey,” Anush whispered. “It’s going to be fine. We will do double shifts. Starting tomorrow. Who needs sleep anyway?”

Ty sighed, relief plain on his marble face. His eyelashes fanned out over his sharp cheekbones and Anush resisted the urge to kiss them. “Thank you. For sticking with me through all this. I know it’s not easy.”

“I didn’t have better plans anyway,” Anush shrugged it off.

Ty opened his eyes and turned his sharp gaze on Anush, still not looking him in the eye but somewhere around his chin. Close enough.

“You know what I mean.”

He knew exactly what Ty meant. The reasons for Ty’s obsession with the First Heir was a subject they never broached. But it was there, like a third presence in their relationship. If you could call what they had a relationship. It was, for Anush at least. He would go to hell and back for Ty, and so would Ty for him. But that didn’t mean he loved him. That’s just how loyal and selfless Ty was.

Anush would always remember the day Ty and him had volunteered to handle the top secret missions tied to the First Heir. Ty had adamantly refused Anush’s involvement, but of course, it was not entirely up to him. Anush was very stubborn. They had both sat in Jia Penhallow’s office and she had asked Ty to leave them alone afterwards. She had looked into Anush’s eyes and had spoken to him earnestly. “These are very dangerous missions, Anush. The most dangerous missions we currently have at the Scholomance. You are a brilliant Centurion, but are you sure you want to do this? I know Tiberius has… personal reasons for volunteering, but what about you?” He had swallowed hard. “Anywhere Tiberius goes, I go.” Her dark eyes had softened. “Anush. Have you really thought this through? I know how much you care about Tiberius but… has he told you why he has chosen to do this?” “I am not Tiberius-smart, but I am not stupid,” he had replied. “The First Heir. He’s in love with him.” The deep sadness and understanding in her eyes had almost made him cry and he had dug his nails into his palms, his jaw working as he withheld tears. “It doesn’t matter,’ he had said through clenched teeth. “Whatever happens, I will be there for him. In any capacity I can.” And it was plain from her expression that she knew he was not only talking about their missions for the Scholomance.

As he now looked into Tiberius’ gray eyes, at his beautiful features that were nothing compared to his gentle and unique heart, Anush felt a deep rush of love mixed with longing. Ty would never be his. He already belonged to someone else. But Anush would give Tiberius any part of him that he wanted.

He took a deep breath before he answered.

“I do. I am not giving you a choice anyway. You’re stuck with me.” Always.

Ty looked down, as if he couldn’t bear the weight of Anush’s gaze on him.

“I didn’t thank you for… earlier. I almost lost it back there.”

“Don’t mention it,” Anush replied. “That’s what I am here for. At least he took your threat seriously.”

“As he should.”

Ty was still playing with the pendant tied around his neck. Anush brought his free hand on top of Ty’s, intertwining their fingers.

“I love your hands,” he whispered to Ty. “I wouldn’t want them to get soiled.” He tiptoed to bring his lips closer to Ty’s ear, almost brushing. “Especially now that I have experienced their full potential.”

Ty turned his face away but not before Anush saw his cheeks flush and the corner of his mouth quirk. Anush loved how he was still shy about these things.

He looked at the dark cobbled street before them.

“Fenwick’s minions must already be on their way.”

Ty cocked his head. “Coming from the west. They’re a mile or two ahead of us. Judging by their pace, they should be upon us in about five minutes.”

Anush nodded. Ty sometimes knew things – as if he had an invisible spy everywhere they went – and Anush had stopped questioning it. If Ty had wanted to share, he would have. Anush would not press him.

“Tactic?”

“Split. Confuse. Divide and conquer.”

“Good. I need the exercise. You take north by the river, I take south and we meet up west?”

Ty nodded, already veering in the opposite direction, two swords drawn.

“Meet you at Blackthorn Hall,” Anush cried out to him, as he started walking backwards. “First one there gets the biggest room.”

“Dream on,” he thought he heard Ty reply. He tried to catch one last glimpse of him for good luck but he had already been swallowed by the night.

***

Tiberius got there first. But he let Anush pick his favourite bedroom. All bedrooms in Blackthorn Hall were decorated with different themes, that one had a landscape - the view from the LA Institute’s rooftop, Ty had explained - painted over an entire wall, opposite the huge canopy bed. Anush found it quite soothing.

“Fenwick sent an army,” he said as he drew several Iratzes on Ty’s back. He whistled. “You must have scared the shit out of him.” They had managed to get rid of the last of Fenwick’s minions by drowning them in the Thames. Ty had a few fey allies lurking underneath the surface. Creatures he had helped escape from captivity.

When he was finished, Tiberius rose from the bed and Anush watched as he stored the bandages and gauze in a small cabinet in a corner of the room. He was naked from the waist up and Anush’s gaze lingered on his fellow Centurion’s lean and muscular back, a canvas way too beautiful for black Runes and faded scars that were now so familiar he could draw them from memory. His dark curls were still wet from the dive into the river.

Anush crossed his arms behind his head and settled comfortably against the headboard.

“Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

Tiberius stilled, his bare shoulders hunched.

“What, now?”

“Yes now. I want you.”

Ty slowly closed the cabinet’s door and turned to look at Anush, his gray eyes unreadable.

“Anush… My brother Julian is here. His bedroom is a few meters down the corridor.“

“So? It’s not as if he doesn’t know what we are up to. You're so lucky he’s smart and open-minded. The coolest. I wish my parents were the same. If they knew the things we did, they would probably drag me to Naraka themselves.”

“Anush…” Ty said softly. “You know it wouldn’t make any difference if you were a girl… I would say the same thing.”

“We won’t make any noise!”

Tiberius raised a dark eyebrow. Anush let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah, I know. It’s not my fault if you turn into this beast I barely recognize under the bed sheets.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.”

“Oh the noises I make are definitely not me complaining. Mister Hyde can have a ride anytime.”

Ty gave him one of his rare wicked smiles… The ones that always got Anush’s heart rate into high gear. He put his shirt back on and moved soundlessly to the door.

“Ty,” Anush called.

Tiberius paused, his hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah?”

“Stay for the night. No noisy and sweaty sex. Just…lie down next to me.”

“Anush,” Ty breathed, his look apologetic. And Anush braced himself for what would come next. The blow to his chest. Because he already knew what Ty would say. “Anush. You know I can’t sleep that way.”

“Yeah, no problem, I understand. Raziel knows we definitely need the rest.” Anush tried to reply in a light tone but the pitch of his voice rose awkwardly at the end. “It’s okay. Good night Ty.”

“Good night, Anush.”

[mememanufactorum]

Ace Combat Zero quotes

* Feel free to share as you please, no credit needed. Change pronouns or anything else as desired.

“Oh, him? Yeah, I know him.”

“Did you know there are three kinds of aces? Those who seek strength, those who live for pride, and those who can read the tide of battle.”

“It was a cold and snowy day…”

“It’s starting to come down.”

“You’d better have our pay ready and waiting.”

“Be ready to pay up. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“[name], I got a feeling you and I are gonna get along just fine. Buddy.”

“It all started on that snowy day.”

“My first impression was… He had potential.”

“I forgot about my job and read everything I had on hand.”

“We were all on an equal footing, fighting under the same conditions. No affiliations or ranks to hinder us.”

“The only rule of engagement was to survive.”

“We WILL survive, [name].”

“I figured you’d say that. This is gonna cost you extra.”

“Unlike you mercenaries, I fight for a real cause.”

“The ones who survive are those who fight for their convictions.”

“Dead men’s words hold no meaning.”

“Those mercenaries are crazy!”

“He hesitated. A vulnerability that can be exploited.”

“I was certain I would win.”

“We protect the meek and give our lives for honor. But that does not mean that we are generous… Since generosity will cost us our lives.”

“Well, then, let’s have some fun.”

“I figured it was just temporary chaos and it’d be over by the time I got there.”

“Every now and then, guys like that appear on a battlefield. Someone special, y’know?”

“War is something fought on the desk of politicians. As long as they win in the end, that’s all that matters.”

“But for us, it’s a matter of survival. In order to survive, you need to be able to analyze the situation in an instant.”

“Time to hunt some wild dogs.”

“Looks like we were just a couple of decoys.”

“Yo, Buddy, you still alive?”

“Back then, I was bursting with pride.”

“Staying where it was nice and warm wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

“Whatever it may be, the fact remains I was forced to walk a different path in life than the one I had envisioned.”

“They only fight for their own power and fame.”

“[name], let’s do this right. We got the pride it takes to win!”

“They’ve got a reason to fight. This battle’s over.”

“Let’s take care of them.”

“It takes time to admit you lost.”

“[name], you hear those people screaming for freedom? That’s where we come in!”

“It felt like he could see right through me. He was always one step ahead of me.”

“I didn’t feel like I was fighting with a human being.”

“I wanted to end that battle as quickly as possible.”

“It signals peace, but to me, they are the sounds of death.”

“Everyone is a hero and a villain. And no one knows who is the victim and who is the aggressor.”

“And what is ‘peace’?”

“Looks like we live to see another day, [name].”

“Mercenaries like us are disposable to the guys in charge.”

“But in the end, we survived.”

“When are you planning to buy those flowers?”

“Wait around too long and another guy’s gonna steal her away from you, you know.”

“This is no time to talk about my personal life!”

“Yo Buddy, you’ve got everyone fired up and believing in miracles.”

“Right on! Now that’s what I call teamwork!”

“[name], you hear that warm welcome? It’s the sweet sound of victory.”

“Not bad for a group of misfits, huh?”

“Dammit, there’s too many of them! We can’t handle them all!”

“Time to dive into the fireworks!”

“Looks like you’ve still got the touch.”

“It’s happening just as you thought.”

“It’s about time we got out of this dead-end job.”

“Not just yet.”

“They’re attacking without mercy. Do they plan on burning everything?”

“He can’t be human!”

“He’s like a demon…”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I fight for peace. That’s what I’m up here for.”

“While you’re up here ‘fighting for peace,’ tons of blood is being shed on the ground. Some ‘peace,’ kid.”

“And I’m here to put an end to that.”

“You think you can stop the bloodshed by shedding more blood?”

“Flying with all those ideas floating around in your head is gonna get you killed.”

“Anyway, I’d really gone out with a bang this time.”

“It’s a scary thought, but it also makes you feel alive.”

“But it gets pretty lonely up there all by myself.”

“Guess they’ve come to pick on the dead again.”

“This is the worst kind of support we could hope for.”

“Those mercenaries smell of money and death. They’re nothing but vultures… Scavenging for profit through the blood of others.”

“Sorry about the accommodations. It goes with the business. I’m not active during the day.”

“Something unexpected happened.”

“I figured the least I could do was take them down in return.”

“Of course, that was where my luck ran out.”

“Though I guess it’s hard for bad guys like us to die.”

“The real heroes always manage to die first.”

“We live the rest of our lives in hell.”

“But, then again, being alive is proof that we were good.”

“This will be your final lesson.”

“I’ll show him he’s only digging his own grave.”

“What’s important on the battlefield is to let go of hate, to survive, and to adhere to the rules you’ve set for yourself.”

“There was no more need for an old soldier like me.”

“Hatred cannot be the only motivation for war. It only brings about more pointless deaths.”

“I will never overcome that grief.”

“I’ll just look on from here.”

“He was unstoppable.”

“It didn’t matter where the battlefield was, the man had complete trust in his own powers.”

“He was born for battle, a Demon Lord who struck down all opposition.”

“He was born for combat. It was no wonder they called him a Demon Lord.”

“That said, it was hell trying to keep up with him.”

“He was cool-headed and proud. A combat professional.”

“Maybe the man was blessed by the goddess of war.”

“Before long, everyone had taken notice of him.”

“People wanted to burn his image in their memories.”

“Hell, they weren’t the only ones.”

“Learn to accept it, kid. This is war.”

“There’s no mercy in war. It’s a collision of powers.”

“Even war has a set of rules to follow!”

“Damn them all…”

“Nobody knew why they were fighting anymore.”

“All I felt at that point was sadness for the world.”

“You gonna get remarried to your girl?”

“We’re both getting married for the first time!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch up.”

“Nah… I’m just sad.”

“There’s no impossible jobs for us mercenaries!”

“Your fairy godmother’s here, Cinderella.”

“How can you say that after what just happened?”

“Today is your lucky day, [name]. Like your birthday.”

“And you’re here to pull me off in a magical carriage, huh? To hell I suppose…”

“Buddy… I’ve found a reason to fight.”

“This is where we go our separate ways.”

“And I like to play polo. You know, the game with the horses?”

“…Maybe we should get going now.”

“I should be able to do that too.”

“This war should be over already.”

“Why would they do this after all that’s happened?”

“I’m going to put an end to this war.”

“We’ll decide when this war ends… And now is not the time.”

“Today is a day of hope.”

“We have to go into battle.”

“Are they being stupid or is it just part of a plan?”

“The rest is up to you.”

“Our lives might’ve been different.”

“I will never forget his overwhelming power.”

“I returned alive from that battlefield.”

“There’s no meaning there now that he’s gone.”

“He soon passed away, leaving me behind.”

“We were only able to spend a short time together in peace and quiet.”

“But those who hearts are in the sky will always return to the sky.”

“And he died there, never to return to me.”

“It’s an awful place, but the fastest shortcut.”

“Don’t even think about heading back.”

“What are you fighting for?”

“I will eliminate the false hero.”

“You will make a worthy opponent.”

“What are you doing?! The war’s ended long ago!”

“It’s time for a perfect world without restrictions or wars.”

“He’s going to destroy everything!”

“I’ll follow [name] to the end!”

“I thought I was watching magic.”

“I’d never felt fear toward an opponent.”

“The same went for my ideals. I wasn’t afraid to take on even an entire country.”

“But when I was fighting him, something felt different.”

“There’s always a war somewhere and I’m sure he’s on some battlefield somewhere fighting even now.”

“He’ll always have a place to live.”

“Let the victor be justice.”

“I was hoping to meet you under different circumstances.”

“The table is surrounded by politicians who have never placed a foot on the battlefield.”

“It’s a necessary discussion to build a peaceful world.”

“It’s a disgusting squabble on who gets the largest share of the pie and that’s why it needs to end.”

“It is for that duty that we raised the King.”

“Let’s begin.”

“This place is no longer a battlefield.”

“Clashing greed is the cause of all conflict.”

“Style and skill does not matter in battle.”

“We will carry out the new creation of destruction through the power of righteousness.”

“Territories, peoples, authorities… All will be liberated.”

“Neither nations nor nationalities have meaning.”

“We will erase these unnecessary borders.”

“The world will change.”

“He’s not destroying anything unnecessarily.”

“This darkness and that little window are my entire world now.”

“I’m actually rather fond of it.”

“The darkness envelops me in a borderless world, a world with no boundaries.”

“No matter what the desired outcome is, the world can still change as long as people expand their knowledge and desire change.”

“If I’m with you, I know I can do it.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“We’re gonna stop it, no matter what.”

“I never want to see that barren land again.”

“We’re gonna be rich!”

“We’re gonna be heroes!”

“I’m gonna propose to her when I get back. I even bought flowers!”

“So, have you found a reason to fight yet?”

“Here comes the snow…”

“Those who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think they’re invincible.”

“I bet you do too, Buddy.”

“Can you see any borders from here? What has borders given us?”

“We’re going to start over from scratch.”

“It’s pretty ironic, Buddy. A couple of dogs like us fighting the last battle.”

“There’s no mercy in war. People live and people die. That’s all there is to it.”

“You fired up? Come shoot me down.”

“It’s time.”

“Too bad, Buddy.”

“This twisted game needs to be reset.”

“You’re the only one who can stop him.”

“I pray for your success.”

“You and I are opposite sides of the same coin.”

“When we face each other, we can finally see our true selves.”

“There may be a resemblance, but we never face the same direction.”

“Fire away, coward!”

“Come on!”

“Come on, let’s go back home.”

“We wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting for you.”

“Maybe this was one path to achieve peace.”

“I should have died that day. But I didn’t.”

“I felt an unbearable sadness when I witnessed that landscape.”

“It may be true that the world has no need of borders. But would getting rid of them really change anything?”

“The world won’t change for the better unless we trust people.”

“Trust is vital in a peaceful world.”

“But that’ll never happen.”

“I want to see for myself what borders really mean and what their volition really is…”

“I may not find what I’m looking for but I still wanna try.”

“Anyway, that’s what I’ve come to believe and I think that’s enough.”

“Yo Buddy. Still alive?”

“And thanks friend. See you again.”

“I was never able to find out what kind of a person he really was.”

“But whenever they talked about him, they always had a slight smile on their faces.”

“That, perhaps, might be my answer.”

[orthodoxydaily]

Icon,Saints&Reading: Wed., Sept.16, 2020

Commemorated on September 3_Old Julian Calendar

The Priest Martyr Anthymos, Bishop of Nicomedia, and the Martyrs with him (302)

     The PriestMartyr Anthymos, Bishop of Nicomedia, and the Martyrs with him suffered during the time of the persecution against Christians under the emperors Diocletian (284-305) and Maximian (284-305). The persecution of Christians became particularly intense after the occurrence of a conflagration at the imperial court at Nicomedia. The pagans accused the Christians of setting the fire and reacted against them with terrible ferocity. Thus, in Nicomedia alone, on the day of the Nativity of Christ, at a church as many as twenty thousand Christians were burned. But this monstrous inhumanity did not frighten off the Christians: they firmly confessed their faith and accepted a martyr's death for Christ. And thus during this period of sufferings died Saints Dorotheus, Mardonius, Migdonius, Peter, Indysos and Gorgonios. One of them was beheaded by the sword, others perished – by burning, or being covered over in the ground or by drowning in the sea. Zinon, a soldier, for his bold denunciation of the emperor Maximian was stoned, and then beheaded. Then also perished at the hands of the pagans the holy Virgin-Martyr Domna – a former pagan-priestess, and also Saint Euthymios, because of their concern that the bodies of the holy martyrs should be buried. Bishop Anthymos, who headed the Nicomedia Church, at the request of his flock concealed himself in a village not far from Nicomedia. From there he sent missives to the Christians, urging them to cleave firmly to the holy faith and not to fear tortures. One of his letters, dispatched with the Deacon Theophilos, was intercepted and given over to the emperor Maximian. Theophilos was subjected to interrogation and died under torture, without revealing to his torturers the whereabouts of Bishop Anthymos. But after a certain while Maximian managed to learn where Saint Anthymos was situated, and he sent a detachment of soldiers after him. The bishop himself met up with them along the way. The soldiers did not recognise the identity of the saint. He invited them to join him and provided them a meal, after which he revealed that he was the one that they were searching for. The soldiers did not know what to do in this instance; indeed, they wanted to leave him be and tell the emperor that they had not found him. Bishop Anthymos was not one to tolerate a lie, and so he would not consent to this. The soldiers themselves came to believe in Christ and accepted holy Baptism. But amidst all this, the saint nonetheless demanded them to carry out the orders of the emperor. When Bishop Anthymos was brought before the emperor, the emperor gave orders that the instruments of execution be brought out and placed before him. "Dost thou think, emperor, to frighten me with these tolls of execution?" – asked the saint. – "No indeed, thou canst not frighten one that doth wish to die for Christ! Execution is frightening only for the cowardly of soul, for whom the present life is most precious". The emperor then directed that the saint be fiercely tortured and beheaded by the sword. Bishop Anthymos to his last gasp with joy glorified God, for Whom he had been vouchsafed to suffer (+ 302; another account of the Nicomedia Martyrs is located under 28 December).

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

The Pisidia Icon of the Mother of God

     Icon Source

 The Pisidia Icon of the Mother of God was glorified by miracles in the city of Sozopolis. The account of its origin is unknown. In the missives about icon-veneration by Germanos, Patriarch of Constantinople, which were read at the Seventh OEcumenical Council, "the icon of the Ever-Immaculate Virgin Mother of God, located at Pisidian Sozopolis and exuding myrh from the hands thereof", is termed "ancient". The miracle-working effected from the icon dates back to the VI Century. One of the miracles was reported by the presbyter Eustathios, who was a contemporary of Patriarch Eutykhios (Comm. 6 April). At Amasea, just off from Sozopolis, there was a certain married couple, for whom children were born dead. Grieving over their misfortune, they turned to Patriarch Eutykhios for advice. Saint Eutykhios made prayer and with the words "in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ" he anointed them with holy oil from the Cross of the Lord and from the holy icon of the Mother of God. "Name your child Peter, and he wilt be alive", – said he to them. Soon the couple gave birth to a son which they did indeed name Peter, and then they thereafter gave birth to a second son, whom they named John. The people of the city, in learning of this miracle, glorified God. For about 600 years myrh flowed from the Pisidian Icon of the Mother of God, a witness to which was Eleusios (a disciple of the Monk Theodore Sikeotes, of Saisota; Comm. 22 April). A copy in Russia of this ancient wonderworking icon was done in 1608, at the Moscow Novospassk monastery. The Mother of God is depicted with the Divine-Infant on Her left arm, and with Her right hand She gives blessing.

© 1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

Mark 6:7-13

7And He called the twelve to Himself, and began to send them out two by two, and gave them power over unclean spirits.8He commanded them to take nothing for the journey except a staff-no bag, no bread, no copper in their money belts-9but to wear sandals, and not to put on two tunics.10Also He said to them, "In whatever place you enter a house, stay there till you depart from that place.11And whoever will not receive you nor hear you, when you depart from there, shake off the dust under your feet as a testimony against them. Assuredly, I say to you, it will be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment than for that cit12So they went out and preached that people should repent.13And they cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick, and healed them.

Hebrews 13:7-16 (Hieromartyr Anthimus)

7Remember those who rule over you, who have spoken the word of God to you, whose faith follow, considering the outcome of their conduct.8Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.9Do not be carried about with various and strange doctrines. For it is good that the heart be established by grace, not with foods which have not profited those who have been occupied with them.10We have an altar from which those who serve the tabernacle have no right to eat.11For the bodies of those animals, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned outside the camp.12Therefore Jesus also, that He might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered outside the gate.13Therefore let us go forth to Him, outside the camp, bearing His reproach.14For here we have no continuing city, but we seek the one to come.15Therefore by Him let us continually offer the sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of our lips, giving thanks to His name.16But do not forget to do good and to share, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.

[ftpthemovement]

Strengthen the Believers

Nails 

1st Degree: 3 Nails Pendant - (Learning Gods Sacrifice)

What Christ did for you. (Forgiving others, making peace, riding vices, self reflection) 

Chapter Reading:  

John/Acts/Galatians/ Ephesians/ Philippians

Document notes of chapter reading in journal 

Actions

* Ask for forgiveness to as many as you remember wronging. Retrace past events and try to arrange meetings or phone conversations to make amends.

*Ask 12 elderly people what they would do different if they could start back young and do life over. Write down the answers and share them with your overseer. 

* Take two days devoted to spending time with a watchmen. If your group is new, take two days decayed to spending time hanging. Out with your group getting to know each other.

Document what you have learned, and share it with the overseer, or with your group as a collective.

Cross

2nd Degree: The Cross Pendant- Denying self (sacrifice of following Christ)

Calculate the cost

Chapter Reading: Luke/Romans/1 Peter/2nd Peter/1st Corinthians/2nd Corinthians 

* Give what you don’t have to give.

Everyone is different and according to their own heart let them find Gods answer. God himself will lead them them In the direction they should go. For others, this is a time of prayer, do not try to create influence from your opinion or what you choose. Allow them time to walk in relationship with God, and he will make it known to them the direction they should take.

Eagle 

3rd Degree: The Eagle Pendant - Trusting God

Provision. (Getting out of your comfort zone, trusting Gods supply)

Learning to step out and trust God. Learning patience and endurance, Getting over the spirit of offense, learning to overcome people falling away from you. Learning to endure persecutions and misunderstandings. Learning to draw on Gods supply and not the worlds supply. Freeing yourself if expectations.

 *Set up an outreach of generosity personally requesting people to join

*Go evangelize in the city and invite a team with you, proclaiming “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!" Explain to them repentance is turning from your ways and seeking Gods way. Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, cast out devils: freely ye have received, freely give.

* Start a prayer book for your brothers and your family. Take a binder and write the names of as many people as you can think of and pray over that book daily.

*Privately perform a selfless act of Generosity 

Chapter Reading: Mark/Hebrews/Colossians/

1 Thessalonians/2nd Thessalonians

Hook

4th Degree: Fish Hook Pendant 

(The great commission in action)

Walking out the great commission through action and in truth. Learning how to share your testimony with others. Inviting people to come and participate in your weekly group gatherings.

*Do 8 outreaches focused street evangelism and prayer 

*One Outreach or other event held by you 

*Address your brothers of your intentions of wanting to become a watchman 

Chapter Reading: Matthew/1st Timothy/2nd Timothy/ Titus/Colossians

Watchmen

5th Degree: The Watchmen Pendant 

(Teach others through action and Truth) 

Chapter Reading: 1st John/2nd John/ 3rd John

Jude/Revelations 

 *Wash each disciples feet of your group   

* Help in homeless or prison ministry

*Commit to tithing to FTP The Movement, so we can continue to expand across the nations, providing refreshment in our local communities, and communities throughout the world.

A large army is hard to move. It has many minds, and many motives, and is extremely hard to please. But a highly trained group of 6-12 men who have been commissioned, are unified in body and mind, have proven to be the most strategic, effective groups in the world.

This approach to discipleship is an absolute game changer. This is the way to bring men who are far from Christ to Christ, and walk his will out through action and truth. Don’t ever forsake the assembly. It’s the very thing that spurs us into action, to represent Christ in a lost and dying world, and to bear much fruit! Never settle for a watered down gatherings again. Instead be encouraged and commissioned with willing brothers and sisters who are there to walk your faith out through the transparency of love, care, generosity, forgiveness, and compassion.

I have been in leadership for sometime and have seen many stages of what gatherings look like. From traditional church gatherings, to social circles, to groups that gather to complain about their problems and feel better, but never take action to change them. To this I say, when you gather, it should no longer be about what others can do for you, it’s about what you can do for others. Pay special attention to those who are in need, lead them by example. You will find when you belive right, you will love right. Correctly addressing your attention to your savior, and not your sin, making you effective, and not ineffective for the kingdom of God.

When you gather, take communion with one another in remembrance of the Lord. “For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.” Gather together and ask how everyone has been, and if ther is any prayers needed. Then read scripture to build each other up, and plan out your missions into your local community to provide refreshment. You should be as active as possible in the community, looking to provide refreshment to as many as possible, using your various giftings.

When you do this, your group may continue to grow. When this occours, carefully, and prayerfully appoint leaders. If appointed as leader, do fall victim to pride or the mindset of leadership, it’s a vain pursuit. You who seek to lead, must be the servant of all. If it is your gifting from God, rely on the Holy Spirit to walk boost in the position, above reproach, exhorting, edifying, and correcting, with all authority. Seek out everything in scripture on the topic of overseers, Timothy, Titus, etc.

Never let groups get larger than 25, twelve is the preferred size. To keep overhead to a minimum meet in places like homes, garages, shops, etc. If meeting in public, speak only words that would edify others if they were to overhear your conversation. Be a light in dark places at all times.

Gatherings should always be about discipleship, and taking action in your local community. Bring all of your tithes and offerings to the storehouse. They should always be donated to FTP THE MOVEMENT INC. through FTP app, Venmo, Cash App, or check via mail. Do not make cash donations to the local group unless specifically raising money outside of tithes and offerings. The tithes and offerings are collected and distributed towards advancing the gospel, providing funding for evangelist in the mission field, and refreshment through wholesale outlets so that each group can bring refreshment to their local community. When we pool our resources together as a collective, we are much more effective in our provisions and overall mission, which is the expansion of the gospel to all nation’s!

Each new group that feels a prompting in their heart to start should have at least two or more people coming together dedicated to consistently. You should decide on a name for your group. Each group will be considered a battalion. Each battalion is given a number. Upon starting you must submit the name of your group, names of each person in that group, their phone number, email, and specific talents and skill trades. When you gather have a sign in sheet of who is in attendance and submit it to us@ftpthemovement.com.

This information is collected to keep our non profit status, tax write offs for donors, and to meet specific needs in your particular areas. For example: Say an old lady needs Sheetrock repair in Savannah, Georgia, and Tim Rogers has the time, and knows how to repair it. It allows us to give our members the opportunity (not obligation) to help meet the needs of others, in accordance to Gods will.

FTP does not belong to you, you cannot take ownership of it because it is an ideal. The ideal comes to all nations as a symbol of hope, a lifestyle, that when seen in action is the living unified body of Christ in motion. Do not be attracted to numbers, be attracted to the dedication of action, and the continuous expansion of the gospel.

This is bigger than the ego, bigger than a denomination, bigger than any one contributor could do itself. This is the reformation of the church in the last days. It’s my heart cry that each individual, only through the prompting of the Holy Spirit, take careful and prayerful consideration in joining with us. It’s not for everyone, but we do belive that it is for you. Search your heart men of God. Put to side the differences that seek to cause division, and let’s leverage every opportunity, and resource we have to bring the body of Christ back to the forefront of humanity. Let it be such a loving force of Christ that it cannot be ignored.

““ ‘In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days, and they will prophesy. I will show wonders in the heavens above and signs on the earth below, blood and fire and billows of smoke. The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord. And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’”‭‭Acts‬ ‭2:17-21

“Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it. “If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.”

Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. Anyone who does not love me will not obey my teaching. These words you hear are not my own; they belong to the Father who sent me. “All this I have spoken while still with you. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”‭‭John‬ ‭14:12-21, 23-27‬ ‭

This is a calling to arms, this is for leaders across the nation to search their spirits, and to step forward In mission. Let’s create an infrastructure of resources no longer dedicating funds to stagnant over head cost. Let’s combine our time, talents, and resources to make an impact like never before. There’s much more I want to say to you concerning these matters. My heart burns with the fire of The Holy Spirit as warriors of God cry out “Amen” to these very words. That forgiveness be found with all. All debts be cleared, all animosity and resentment melts to the wayside. Let all division be crippled this very moment in Jesus precious and Holy name. No calloused hearts, no anger amongst men, just the body of Christ in action to the end of age! God be with us always, and protect your families as you make him your refuge and dwell in the shadow of the most high. If you have any prayer requests, specific questions, or want to start a battalion; contact me if you have my number, if not email me directly at us@ftpthemovement.com. We will respond as quickly as possible. Much more will be written especially in each ranking and the messages to come for each. Even without them you can succeed Holy start today and create disciples like never before.

Remeber, people are in need. It’s our opportunity to go out to them the same way Christ did, meeting them where they are at, not wait on them to come to us. It’s time to fly only one banner, and that banner is Christ and Christ crucified. I love you with all of my heart FTP. You have been sent, will you answer the call?

“And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!”

From the front lines, ES

[40ozalctears]

the sweetest kindest little ringing remind or ashtin or spooked rabbit keeper sweetest, spiteful my vices ahh!her luv damn. why!

The cause of harm is the greed and not the farm that you arm your weakest prodigal son, in the wake of a maybe fatal frigid Hellscape frozen over the hold over Queen majesty - when all they want is the monarch taxes back - like do u rly think the easy dirty easy money like stealing, type super  funny, honey its sweeter than the milk and soft as the spin the scar tissue hard. Trust me, the watching who hold hate close to the knowledge of the madgods jewelry is stinking of lunacy, from the quiet kind boy behind the monarch stark cast of Godlike endless hatred rage - take it from the prophesied leader of spirits who know prophesy fulfilled when he listens to to the whistling of ancestor spirits. Shh. Pawned so many rings that belonged to wrong ruler and song girl bringer of here. I am  crystal clear that I am the Belle the Gaelic attempt to keep it super sly and secret. Keep the sharp teeth wolf boys feel. You use the hints and kinks in the story is so old to known to young unsung but done as done prophesy is - stuck in a state archdruidic sickening states of being wasted on the loss my rightful throne and every hidden secret locked in the labyringth in Gothic leviathan cathedral bearing my Gaelic, as the eventually overthrown Roman blew in the gail winds of fading traditon, until no one listened - French, drenched in gas so the most certain ancients know that the young stuck between wolf with teeth perfectly shining, glistening like misshappen young Bellovaci younger holy boys who were just always in a feral state as this, to purr and meow and give the serpent hiss in the name of making your place certain beneath more primal - I relinquish the dirt that just sits in the sink, until I relinquish link to like the hoops in the ear that would claime me the the arch-druid so sickly addicted to every little drink that is as ichor of death, to be anything but self assured in the word of the lycan simply lurking. Stuck between sprint, torn denim, more wolf than man, more Perfectly evil than pleasantly Godly like the most ready to know the foam that forms when see see her have their beloved dark black long hair sheared like wheat and chaff before the wind - like the sick should fall to the bloodied slice of the sickle - for less obvious matters, let the frigid whisper of winter being fickle, just enought to tickle the just to depravity. As such, the little who felt the eyes of boy who circled the edge of town as if he could not exist if not considerign the sting of monarch moth never more than a state eternal failing - the bread of a war machine God called Heaven, and stole my lost profit lost cost of certain life - being stuck in the state of eternal decay, which I studied and loved until I travelled under and dug, and built a man made moat just so you and your favorite things that makes you a sweet thing, and I would let your eye widen as the Sun dies again, for how many nights we d did not fight against sleep, as if it was impossible to not see the glow of the her slow in the bright of the certain doom and the looming harvest of farthest mens beliefs- understanding them from the wise who came far from the East, and so when I fed on what I studied to be the understanding of the love of another that was as fulfilling as shared cute snack that feels like return of the hero, but no great war - just what she stored I locked in impossible chance of ever being forgotten in the permafrost frigid acceptance that my ribs form a page that is nothing short of permafrost accounting for the Godliness of Loss - so for all the simple beauty and the cutie doe with the fawn eyes who I saw forever in a way, sleepîng on a hateful yawn, and as soon as she wakes, blinks, yawns, I steal her from the fate of never escaping the state of eternal maze - by which I named my first son already the Scarecrow Prince who will only  know keeping away crows, and those who know the harbingers of death, if you trust the call of keeping death then you invite again the flow of euphoric state of moon blasting through, like it baptizes you new under the last name you gave as you noticed her lose the tame, like a newly free thing who was only knew cage - I suppose many act as they should as if they ever only knew rage - for all labyrinth trap and reasons of setting traps for the unwanted seasons, so in the sickest of seeping Spring I know one ring keeps me sharpening teeth, and assured that the meek not sheep for the weak of the word, but the deared dark-eyed soul  that I saw tending to to contraption that was asked to keep us in safety, and just as the sweetest of sickly sweet thing that makes all lycan boy, between and here and there was a maiden, one of iron, one which was so tired, that it tired me, even in my infinite gift of plan to hatch the love of my own twisted roots of oak until I am choked by the end of my joke that is just make the sweet doe eyed in the man made moat I spit this as quick as a slit I would made, but it would take little more me to riddle a liittlle harmless threat, with the debt of what is owed to the protector of Queen of all that I have seen more goes than majesty, tragedy that it had to be you, and I saw her look away, but I think she was keen of a certain sense to know I was such a penniless who could spend endless words for you learn that it takes as such, that you get as much as you give, and even to keep her breath steady - you not  take your never ending, butterfly wing, malfunctioning thats most fear but she hears vibrated like like quiet of the hum and summer nights - and so for me take the claws, fix both red stained glass eyes, wide as severed - ways to explain that it painful to say that given what I have scribbled in the hieromanic of trance, and I cannot sing and and dance like I do not having to call for the Fall of Man, just every plan of man, no matter well maid, always led themselves, naked shivering, exactly to the step of my trap, which I simply set to wet my taste that in my heart the start of the most bright exploding morning flail - the believe that mourning any distance bright candle simply doused by the petty candle lick, quick-witted way the light of your life might just decide one day, in its trickery, sickening mastery of things more man than a boy who finds join the acceptance as wolf more always in between, hurting and dirty for never truly becoming, but since in absolutely delightful beauty quiet she floats on the wooden boat, Singing in tongues what might be the meaning of death in  ending of sum - in that if speaking trying to make sense of the sounds is beyond the bond of human to the satisfaction with simple humanity, not having grasped the the roots and found how to shoot start out of the sky on  a night  so loud from the crowd of surrounding pounding drums, of those fat-bellied fascists, who heard word you of your solitary goddess too honest to ever say she just believes without being knowing as so many, too-knowing will claim until they slain the in the name of the lie - I remember the Ilai, Eli, of course...a a lie, I have thought the less real lamb that stood as she stands, as he landed on the peak of Golgotha, the Aramaic was perhaps soft on the dying son confused by the plan of the Eternal, that when the nails jailed themself to a cage of childish rage, in his purity, in his fury, the absolute terrifying baring of teeth, from a thing more than a man who we only know as the Italian son of a man who weaponized the need, of knowing the idea of the Son, asking the father for a taste of Honey, as burned to death due to fault lines in the times conflict, the Son would consider, despite the nights in wild, where I was the child and babe possessed, nearly the Lord of Death - given mastery over connection to Father, God, the peak of throne - just as the wildest time I ever came close to perhaps becoming too full in my how MUCH my teeth bled as I felt them become blades, that only most alone lycanthrope knows that in a statone of alone, given nothing but instinct, and the nonsense worthless broken porcelain that looked so wrong in it raped poor, sad fatal estate, as the rate increased and the feast my own consuming of stars in the sky forgetting the name of the Hatred of the idea of my meek littlle priestess - seeped in my need of simply believing in Queen, should the Kind pawn and not think for a again, at least inn a state of knowing it staying put in insanity, instead of grasping at the fact, so beautfiul but tear-filled years and years of waiting, Hating the need for blood spilled -  sip on sour cloud break int raped time I believe I must drink the blood to avoid the or, some prophesy that is as misplaced as a poisoned chalice, or even living in a palace, as I lived in what i make an intricate safet confusing little maze of a cluttered and dimly lit clean as can home fit for as modest and as the innocent stern deity who submisses to no dismmissing of her strength in the way the drenches the weak in the their defeat - became as haunting, piercingly loud, as if thhe crowd of the rage of a forget tradition of boys lost in the most deep of Belgic, someone some-where look like the Sun King withought the messes of lost den dwellers wishing for one gem laden gauntlet of a boy so Shining finally given the palace where he stood like the final piece to the puzzle, but any failed watch maker who understands the importance of the love and  acceptance of failure - to sit in silence as loud as the sound the once-dead no piercengly quiet -only tickicking the old heiroom , alone in the darkest little steel  box of lock between myself and what seemed to be the reason i even kept any thing dirty, having a penchant for ugly, as it is easier to hug, with unwarranted terrible pain, that if I should given a shame all the was of the certainly nervous and tall nothing but simple boy, who kept strange so deranged and misunderstood, the closest I ever became to command I then claimed over how we become the beast we studied, the most, so le loup garou je troube q c maps mal nous tous les jeune honnes, donner in the grace of the silliest stiill alive-ancients, I remember waking to up the nothing but fear, clearly awake, before I considered that the stuck between stations of dashing and springting with tongue out more in between than ever, and severed from reality like nape of the rapist of health, who deserved exactly how painful it is to attempt to take the breason of breath of a deathly sweet little thing, that I had no quarrel, with so many inner-wars possessing my core, this came as 2 and 2 would naturally come to one who lives for another but must act out of of absolute focus on the swarm of locust, of channeling the hate the state of still convinced of weak willed humanity always grasping back to the need to such greedy with our grasping little human disease name our most useless scraping of kness, simply to not exist as mist with a debt to death, that will never be paid until in your maiden, somehow still, as sweet and, as opened like the intricate lock, who only ever talked so soft, though never stern as if to teach those who do not know how made the young boys go when laid bare to the fair skin little thing, and the presence of something listening, lurking and working on the moat, so he has a place to return, that I earn the trust, as my mane because the the River Styx by which the depth of how trim ourself fur and how soft we pur, keeps a little thing like, what seemed at first to be weak little sheep, who watched as i watched, weeks on weeks. i think think of the God Army who drew blade in the name of those who came most like there before - brought about the strength in the week after week, until walked tilted in the way of a wolf, though alone, mostly likely believed a sort or auditory glitch cast by the shadows and  tossed at me like a joke of a bone, simply to give me the idea of home, that I would her here still quietly, but so softly as sweetly - something I wanted to ask but was terrified to even utter to to no one for nothing in silence, she awoke the new sense of 6 all together as one, and for all the boy so scared of the swinging like moon in the sky, when i was convinceded of something tied to things not allowed to those who do not have the raising of dead, all i think id like to just try to return from..if not the grave than the furthest forgotten part of the den, where this story and meaning began as it ends - just a way to say i know exactly why you know what i knew, and i hope against hope i do not lose sight of the memory of you - because although forever boy  -with vices and plain as a night with just white rice and help help of her so harmless little smirk and a wink, that made the pendulum brain that swung like i as hells  bells were insane - as in not quite normal, as normal we love - it all seemed so normal until we were visited by boys, who saw the goddess of seasons in this simple quiet absolutely shierking riot of so many ways she would love, to  tell you all the the words she knows you think of them too much and so when, just when become so accepting of the power your hatred of having to wait - to just wait until the gates by which you always would return her staring, although as if, withouut casting you a spell of  smile, you stop and and look at pacific clearly piercing blue - that for all of her tears that welled up as after 20 nights in defiance of any sort of defeat - as is if being apart,though as he deep how the frozen hold outside the jail of you eternally lost, but kept in sigh chest - where i see the mathers failig and erring to say, I know you began as seeming to sculpted from diamond, though second, the wolf second  sum, more loud and addicted to pride than the smaller though, equally capable man, who just because he can run on all fours as his foretold type apocalypse fate, was as interesting fate fatal as the final pale horse her death - and I do not remember exactly when I began to notice, the boat floathing alone, or when my bright as sprayed over faint barely dim stupid quiet was not chrome or calling me home, by my allowing for all - the absolute Belgic Prophecy joke, that began simply as stupid, but in presence of the spooked little rodent type queen - switched names - without asking why, I suppose that in the attempty of knowing how we know how, and by no means do i say this this with hope ,to achieve the same cheating way of reaching such perfect connection life, than finding your reason to not be Hateful of God when god has been failing idea, of the might of the male, that the simple fact at the bottom of all - is that the Fall of Man is silly little becoming the return, of when I think i will deserve to stop trying be either incredibly far, either evil little devil grasping at the need being weak and pink like,a pig, or in the face of death - the forgetting of breath, i do believe i must rememer the name, the message more than sent in house how many ways, as studied as any believer in science, by wise as the misunderstood men in the dresses from east - so in the incredibl terrible rage, terrifying reminder, she is just theperfect little strength of the flood of all time, for the perfect cute thought little whimsical nonsense word spoken in tongues, simply because she said so manu in barely audible cute litttle whisper lispy magical lilt - i do not think i am of the acceptance of born to die,just as in the dying light of the night Moon gave the light on things in tht nearly blackened painting canopy brush - each as deep as the piercing I made - that was not necessary, but perhaps as if if to stay, i will remain close to the hope digging and searching all the rocks and the mud, until I return to just where I was, until I stand to reason that was a man without her seeming reason for me to defend my hatred of each season, but the love the way they all die so quickly as if they know exactly when I am becoming physically ill by not a shift in understanding of her. i think it was ashtin - like the dust dust to eternal rusting of my loss of self into choked back fears until years of years of studying the defense against against anything bent againt I would feel the power of endless power in the little bit of lovely blood, that once again reminded where I began that bit of a dream, that seems a bit too dramatic of anything more than panicking dream. But my word, the rodent she named Oliver, soft and attaching to words like they are herds she saves with  a simple different way slaying their understanding on plain until the unheard know her death when her breath is missed is harshest in the breach iof the rift in the stone dark endless wall how her breath clears the fog, and sends the echoes back home in whisper just a little lisp, little kiss on my lips, a sly wink with an entirely unexpected opening of entrance to entire  too much to look without being to have your jaw slacked wide - as if the little unexpected so quick little joke, make slit the unknown threat and simple bet her slight bit of doubt in my weakness, i suppose she might have had - and although i do not low i crept as the wind  often does, to bring about clouds when the blue is too much of lie for sky to accept - the debt of your once hated seething refusal of death, allowed again to renew simply by the news of the dreams of the queen who was, ash- ashtin. spooked rabbits are just needing one, as so ti goes...the cutest little feets. keeping me in state of accepting my defeat and knowing the tirump of eternal here and there insanity that had me consuming a star, one by one until the undoing on sun was brought about  queen without the way of making thos who crossed the way with evil kept in its sway, had my pulsing blood, as fucked as the hellish dark of black matter noahs boat couldnt hold - despite being ebnt by the old joke - the grace of god - how one man leading the other keeping the Fall as evil menacing as it kept gluttonous fiendish fucking tearing apart all the planes as if to grow greater in danger to the consatnt and terrifying state of new danger of a  maybe hades boy who ddi too much grasping at pinkish shell to let myslf be reduced the feral final story, horror to some but silly little clever story, that had me eating guts and close to none,a dn then I might the final sum, and we only spoked in like poetic guessing, and, and riddle spun in the funniest little nonsense tongus and you could lose all sense and sight of self -  i think i saw a glimpse of her tasteful, when I cried so long into them moat, that if she left for how I protected her and her little, then just as I took gathered all then found all colorful shades of Easter hues, I thought how she would look up look from some written words - that I know she I loved had never heard - and every time she looked from from the blue, i learned something from the eyes in the books and words i never knew - just to put me where I need to be, to clear pulsing pride from bloodshot, sclera  slit like tip of ice - just as if to say - wolf - what was it! Doggy! DOG BOY!  To catch up to me in my stupid race, and give me exactly the bitter taste of how much she knew in calm and little lil just barely out the pink ishupon which quit the pyre lit - as when I took at the happy easter colors, and I CURSED her named, and named her killer of every color - now that moat is turning black, and the sky shows all the suns so much at once, that at the zenith of the apex boy - little predator muttering all nice sweet letters, because in the frantic end of choice - you not much of choice in - when you you your eyes and count to ten youll wake up up not  stuck in questions asked, so many times that the night  is just the final break day, where eternal empress who claims her seat - only kept around by the spare and rotten, which the boy who always knew, that he hated any end, but not than he seethed at the types of you, who always approached the little lamb, with no regard for how she lead the herds, or which she spent the pitch black birds, with little lick of lips and tonguepoked as if to say, I dont to scary you - its just the way I bite! To make you wonder, and faint and make you beg for me to say that I am not dead, in the native tongue of keeping me tracked by not enough breath to explain - stupid lungs cannot keep up with brain! and so just as I felt the clear the moat around the little steel trap cottage,which in intense dreary clarity pain, I remember how shed always up though the softest sweet soft cooked rye break eyes, which I would break with woodlant carcass, dead, but this type sweetness reminder of her would keep the memory so fucked a blur, that when I needed the guidance of the hiding empress, Ash- Ashtin. I remember her important on the fidget little wind up nature - of the small ones but must be scare, and when i was so close to something more - I do not care for the letters  and their and tried young symbols, I forget how just, a more recently learned cast in iron, attempt self to make the pariah undertood - by way of building the knee sout of rotten would - I do not think or remember or cared cared - to ever do more than simply stare -or imply what youd so quick succinct, without the fear or  drink at the brink too many silly drinks to death, I remember how the static how she just threw all havoc in side my head, and I do not think how it was crackling snow on snow, unlike other other little question that I knew to do, was I given the absolutely never allowed chance - for the lady priestess who herself who so clean of pride - that she took the form of something so  weak in stature - but if was was real ash or rabbit, spooky rodent or wahtevr oh no dew! im so close to new water on the grass - she would say something  something equal  smart - and in this i knew i shaped my heart in form which i recall our elbows linked, and in this, the sotry clinked, like chainmail just so perfectly made, that when i closed my eyes ans the ring of pearl blue simply slain - by knowing that the death of pain,would be cutting the story short, just who had long forgotten why he kept me weight alone - under earth and across the darkest emerald thicket where in the almost dark drk of calm cool breeze - it almost seemed that something she jagged knife told me so many times in a way defeated, there are so many you times you rhyme your want with rotten meat - each time so produ to drop your pittace at my feet - id notice things id though she keep to herselp, like ifif she heard a sound that sort of clicked, she used all her little rabbit nervous, and look at the place that sound had surfaced, shed dart her eye look up and down, i swear to god the became possesed ttha little - as if this tiny little secret might have been some unknown weakness of myself, and sense ofsilly self alone, or how she hated to admit - as if she only felt my  tense and nonsense wit, and how id  spit and drool some nonsense shit, when perk and smack my mouth,and when shed calm and look all normal, shed twist her eyes so deeply wide and locked the a perfect socket into mine, like the human little shaky princess off the greenest ever dark shadow shade - that robot intensity was if her closest thing to shame, as if she knew when  returned the secret little glen, she hated when i knew she cared  - as if she knew the stupid end, and hated the love and silly nickname as though she did not think the the first name fit, and we spoked and we went on and in the game of just the longest song, which always began with us just screeching cute littl sounds, until, shed begin with A, as if to see how w eboth felt to do, with eah little letter we knew so well,and I remember an ANNOYINGLY loud, and I liked to do things just know with how id b so glad to know want cares, for me to be sory of follow hey very little cutey challenge, so i held her given named above her head - as if to bring her to my secret little home - and anoint with strangest deepest love warming feeling - until corner her with feelings -until were both so dumb kid squealing, I corner her with her given name , as she was the one cutie types, no matter silly im am, ur the dumber piece of stinky dumb dog pudding slung so poorly, like its barely even taut at all - that the only time we were said such cute little things, that rhyme together, are so dreamy perfect, as im not sure if we even rhymed at all, but in night as our giggles turned to cackling tearfilled calls, we would end just other begins, just as simple sum as dipped in depth as deepest why crying over the dimming sun is oh nopers! as shed often say. id hear here do her beauty cutie thing where shed say, the type pitter patter nopey nopers, until l my hopes are all in where I hope she keeps the darkenest wait, so quickly lit with razor wit, that right before i sleep for the firostin so long again - she finally has me brawling crying out for the light of lights to not go out, that a final word shared just before accept hoh nopers dannnnnngit! Dange gangly nooonopers! as she just liked to she how silly she could sound, but when wanted to bring just edge of life, and making the queen the jewel of the dirtdog simple, the priestess of the brightest secret light, who ended each and every night, with final thing if to jsut a silly tired thing, and I rememebr one really faded in to greatest chipped old fade- in the love of the little fidgety way, that on the dirst in central little metal room - enthused by how it felt like such a lovely tomb while drifted in and out of sleep, everytime id come back to awake, shed be staring directly in eye my eye, or even wake me up with her fucking Hey! Fuck you! type ofpicking at my skin blackhead whitehead or little red think she could pick, as if me not knowing  thats shes afraid that i dont know,,that even though the little snarky rude type silly teacher preacher joker stoker of the loving flame - she thinks mentioning lame is stupid all bark mr neutered bad dog! lil piece of crap.  n then, feigning sincerity in sweetest way possible her eyes roop and he strts talkin all  sorry andloopy  , and says super very slow, i know for a fact shes spitting on my eyes oh my loird this absolutely silly evilly queen of jokes, fuck stoked the fire so i know my f;ace, and im just as i tryin to mutter - wh..are you..spraying your nasty stupid spit  on my f-f-face.I know exactly how but why id even why this stupid little chunky  chimp do do anything just on a silly whim - to prove chance, that although a very loud annoying little yappy annoying dog, and based on this i would  and must always let her win. even when shed really make me start to cry  because i thought about how she would either disappear or either disappear of or be gonetoo long 2 diappear - or just be ok withou withou the fear-  gone too long and just because intilledwith fear until she calls me stupid just all day long, sometimes sall ur silly things get to me way deeper than they ever should - just because i feel my knees creaking like crutches with twoodworm and the rotten wood - but when the sweetest little knows im a bit too sh turns from stupid annoying silly thing, worth all the waunt gather in the form of my simple fear of the obvious big unspoke thing if we were either prepared or knowing that the beauiful haunting song, of hows omething would be lost, if we simply lived all boring quiet, because in teh certainy of her going i umumumum. I dinnot say YOu are..STOOpidn, i sad you....are souping! souping out! and i stop and i realize exactly why I go....oh...yeah? and i start laughing... and gasping and  hey ashtin. for all the metaphor. what do i have to do do for spooked rabbit self to pitter pitter patter. I suppose I know what’s been the matter

[pope-francis-quotes]

22nd August >> (@ZenitEnglish) #Pope Francis #PopeFrancis #General #Audience of #PopeFrancis (Full Text): On the Acts of the Apostles (4:32-35). ‘There are so many ‘tourists’ in the Church who are always passing by, but never truly enter the Church … They are only tourists from the catacombs’.

Pope Francis’ General Audience (FUll Text): On the Acts of the Apostles (4:32-35)

‘There are so many ‘tourists’ in the Church who are always passing by, but never truly enter the Church … They are only tourists from the catacombs’

AUGUST 22, 2019 15:56DEBORAH CASTELLANO LUBOVGENERAL AUDIENCE

The General Audience of Aug. 21 was held in the Vatican’s Paul VI Hall, where the Holy Father Francis met with groups of pilgrims and faithful from Italy and from all over the world.

Continuing with the series of catecheses on the Acts of the Apostles, in his address in Italian the Pope focused his meditation on the theme: Among them, “everything was in common”. Life in the Christian Community (from Acts of the Apostles 4:32-35).

After summarizing his catechesis in several languages, the Holy Father expressed special greeting to groups of faithful present.

The General Audience ended with the singing of the Pater Noster and the Apostolic Blessing.

Here is a ZENIT working-translation of the Pope’s full General Audience:

* * *

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

The Christian community is born from the overabundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit and grows thanks to the ‘leaven’ of sharing between brothers and sisters in Christ. There is a dynamism of solidarity that builds the Church as family of God, where the experience of koinonia is central. What does this mean, this strange word? It is a Greek word that means “to put together”, “to put in common” to be a community, not isolated. This is the experience of the first Christian community, that is, “sharing,” “communicating,” “participating,”not isolating oneself. In the Church, at its origins, this koinonia, this community, refers above all to participation in the Body and Blood of Christ. We enter into communion with Jesus and from this communion with Jesus, we arrive at communion with our brothers and sisters. And this communion with the Body and Blood of Christ, at Holy Mass, translates into fraternal union, and therefore also to what is most difficult for us: to pool goods and collect money for the collection in favor of the Mother Church of Jerusalem (Rom 12:13 ; 2 Cor 8–9) and of the other Churches. If you want to know if you are good Christians, you must pray, try to approach communion, and the sacrament of reconciliation. But that signal that your heart has converted, is when the conversion arrives at ones pockets, touching one’s own interest: this is where we see if someone is generous with others, if they help the weakest, the poorest: When the conversion arrives there, you are sure it is a true conversion. If it remains only in words, it is not a good conversion.

The Eucharistic life, prayers, the preaching of the Apostles and the experience of communion (Acts 2:42), make believers a multitude of people who have – says the Book of the Acts of the Apostles – “one heart and one soul alone” and “they do not consider what they possess, their property, but keep everything in common (Acts 4:32). It is such a strong model of life that helps us be generous and not tire out. For this reason, “There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need.”(Acts 4:34-35). The Church has always had this gesture of the Christians who stripped themselves of the things they had, and in addition, of things that were not necessary, to give them to those in need. And not just money: even time.

How many Christians – you, for example, here in Italy – how many Christians are volunteers! This is beautiful! It is communion, sharing my time with others, to help those in need. The voluntary service, the works of charity, the visits to the sick. One must always share with others, and not just look out for one’s own interests.

The community, or koinonia , thus becomes the new relationship between the disciples of the Lord. Christians experience a new way of being among themselves, of behaving. And it is the Christian way, to the point that the pagans looked at Christians and said: “Look how they love each other!” Love was the way. But not love of words, not fake love: love of works, of helping one another, concrete love, the concreteness of love. The bond with Christ establishes a bond between brothers that flows together and expresses itself also in the gathering of material goods. Yes, this way of being together, this way of loving, reaches the pockets, no longer being impeded from giving money to others, and now looking beyond one’s own interest. Being members of the Body of Christ makes believers co-responsible for each other. Being believers in Jesus makes us all co-responsible for each other. “But look at that one, he has this problem: I don’t care…” No, among Christians, we cannot say that, we cannot just say: “Poor person, he has a problem at home, he is going through this family difficulty.” I must pray, I take it with me, I cannot be indifferent.” This is being a Christian.

This is why the strong support the weak (Rom 15:1) and no one experiences the indifference which humiliates and disfigures human dignity, because they live this sense of community: to have the heart in common. They love each other. This is the signal: concrete love. James, Peter and John, who are the three Apostles as the “columns” of the Church of Jerusalem, establish in a communal manner that Paul and Barnabas evangelize pagans while they evangelize the Jews, and only ask, Paul and Barnabas, which is the condition: do not forget the poor, remember the poor (Gal 2:9- 10). Not only the poor, materially, but spiritually, the people who have problems and need our closeness. A Christian always starts from himself, from his heart, and approaches others, as Jesus approached us. This is the first Christian community. A concrete example of sharing and communion of goods comes to us from the testimony of Barnabas: he owns a field and sells it to deliver the proceeds to the Apostles (Acts 4:36-37). But next to his positive example another negative one, sadly, appears: Ananias and his wife, Sapphira, having sold a piece of land, decide to hand over only a part to the Apostles and to hold on to the other for themselves (Acts 5:1-2). This cheating interrupts the chain of free sharing, the serene, disinterested sharing. And the consequences are tragic, are fatal (Acts 5:5,10). The Apostle Peter exposes the impropriety of Ananias and his wife, and tells him: “Why did Satan fill your heart, so that you lied to the Holy Spirit and held back a portion of the proceeds from the camp? […] You have not lied to men, but to God “(Acts 5:3-4). We could say that Ananias lied to God because of an isolated conscience, of a hypocritical conscience, that is because of a “negotiated,” partial and opportunist ecclesial belonging. Hypocrisy is the worst enemy of this Christian community, of this Christian love: that pretending to love each other, but only looking out for one’s own interest. To fail in the sincerity of sharing, in fact, or to fail in the sincerity of love, means to cultivate hypocrisy, to distance oneself from the truth, to become selfish, to extinguish the fire of communion and to turn oneself to the coldness of inner death.

Those who behave in this way pass through the Church as tourists. There are so many tourists in the Church who are always passing by, but never enter the Church: it is spiritual tourism that makes them believe they are Christians, while they are only tourists from the catacombs. No, we must not be tourists in the Church, but brothers of each other. A life set only on profiting and taking advantage of situations at the expense of others, inevitably causes inner death. And how many people say they are close to the Church, friends of priests, bishops, while they are only looking for their own interest. These are the hypocrisies that destroy the Church!

May the Lord – I ask for all of us – pour over us His Spirit of tenderness, which overcomes all hypocrisy and puts into circulation that truth which nourishes Christian solidarity, which, far from being a social assistance activity, is an inalienable expression of the nature of the Church, the tender mother of all, especially the poorest.

[Working English translation by ZENIT Senior Vatican Correspondent, Deborah Castellano Lubov)

© Libreria Editrice Vatican

22nd AUGUST 2019 15:56GENERAL AUDIENCE

[johnchiarello]

Mark 7

POSTED BY

CCOUTREACH87

⋅ APRIL 16, 2017 ⋅

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MARK 7[Happy Easter to all] 2 Corinthians 5:21 For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations https://youtu.be/zqFdLxeaDtI Mark 7 https://ccoutreach87.files.wordpress.com/2017/04/4-11-17-mark-7.zip https://ccoutreach87.com/4-11-17-mark-7/ ON VIDEO- [I also taught the verses from past Sunday’s Mass- and CCCF] .Honor the heritage of your fathers .Was Jesus forsaken? .Yes .Bishop Mulvey got it right [Pastor Don too] .Wash your hands? .Oral tradition .Not just words .Corban .Primary focus on giving in the N.T. – meeting the needs of community .See the dogs .True apostolic teaching .Polycarp .Easter- resurrection- Good Friday .Some have made it about money [sow your best type thing- and get a harvest]. .It’s not about that- at all [New teaching below] 18 Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from your vain conversation received by tradition from your fathers; 19 But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot: Peter-

NEW- Before I get into Mark 7- I want to share an insight I had right before making the video. I was mediating on this verse Exodus 31:17 It is a sign between me and the children of Israel for ever: for in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, and on the seventh day he rested, and was refreshed.

As I was thinking about the season we are in [Easter]. I thought ‘how does God rest’. After all- he is God. Never runs out of energy- knows everything- you know- the classic attributes of God. During this time we celebrate the death- and resurrection of Jesus. In is humanity [not deity] he was able to die- to be the sin offering for man. After his death- he was raised. But that’s not all- he ascended into heaven and SAT DOWN on the right hand of God. Yes- he rested. The bible says- Acts 15:18 Known unto God are all his works from the beginning of the world.

In a way- God rested after the creation of the heavens and the earth. Jesus was slain form ‘the foundation of the world’- Revelation 13:8 And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship him, whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

Yes- the predestined act of death and resurrection and ascension- already took place- before all things were made. God is outside of time. So Jesus not only experienced the pain and agony- but after the assignment was completed- He rested- at the right hand of God- Hebrews 1:3 Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high: In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Hebrews 10:12 But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God; In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

Amen.

NEW [Mark 7] In this chapter Jesus is questioned by the religious leaders- Mark 7:5 Then the Pharisees and scribes asked him, Why walk not thy disciples according to the tradition of the elders, but eat bread with unwashen hands? Now- The Pharisees – with all good conscience- truly believed the Tradition of the Elders was part of authentic worship of God. They believed that God passed down ‘traditions’ given to Moses- that were not contained in the Old Testament. So- the question could have been answered by Jesus simply explaining the difference between the sacred scripture- and tradition. But look at his response- Mark 7:6 He answered and said unto them, Well hath Esaias prophesied of you hypocrites, as it is written, This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Mark 7:7 Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men. Why so mad? We read that they did lots of other things- beside this- Mark 7:13b and many such like things do ye. The 3 year ministry of Jesus- was not only doing all the miracles- but also perceiving how far the people were from God. And they simply had no idea that they were missing the mark. Jesus teaches his men that true purity is not an outward matter- but one of the heart- Mark 7:15 There is nothing from without a man, that entering into him can defile him: but the things which come out of him, those are they that defile the man. The sins of the flesh proceed from a corrupt heart- the religious leaders managed to purify the outside- but inside were ‘full of dead men’s bones’- Matthew 23:25 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of extortion and excess. Matthew 23:27 Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men’s bones, and of all uncleanness.

He told them that thru their tradition- they actually skirted the real Word of God- Mark 7:9 And he said unto them, Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition. How? God commanded to meet the financial needs of their parents. The ‘tradition’ said- if you dedicate these things to God- the material and financial stuff- then you were ‘free’ from having to take care of your parents- Mark 7:10 For Moses said, Honour thy father and thy mother; and, Whoso curseth father or mother, let him die the death: Mark 7:11 But ye say, If a man shall say to his father or mother, It is Corban, that is to say, a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me; he shall be free. Mark 7:12 And ye suffer him no more to do ought for his father or his mother; Mark 7:13 Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, So- thru their tradition- they disobeyed God’s word. On the video I got into this dynamic a bit more- and talked about how we in our day might be making the same mistake. Many believers give a portion of their income to the church- which is ok. But often times we feel that met our obligation- and if we see a person in need- well ‘we already gave at the office’ type thing. I have written about this dynamic before- and if I can find it I’ll paste it below. We end the chapter with another miraculous healing of a deaf and mute person. Jesus not only taught doctrine- but he demonstrated the compassion of God. He was able to see behind the façade that many had in his day. When we read of the sharp rebukes of Jesus- to seemingly ok questions- it’s because he saw the heart of man. In this chapter Jesus quotes Isaiah- Mark 7:6 He answered and said unto them, Well hath Esaias prophesied of you hypocrites, as it is written, This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Mark 7:7 Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men. I used to think just the first part was the quote [verse 6]

But I went and read the verse from Isaiah- Isaiah 29:13 Wherefore the Lord said, Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men: He quoted the whole thing. Yes- the prophet of old- by the Spirit- saw the same condition. And when we read the ‘fury’ of an Isaiah- or John the Baptist- or even Jesus. It’s because the Spirit of God was revealing the hidden mystery of sin- John 16:8 And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment: The people themselves had no idea how far off the mark they were. And it took this type of ‘radical preaching’ to show them the error of their way- so to speak. VERSES Genesis 2:2 And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Genesis 2:3 And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it: because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

PAST POSTS- Below are my past teachings- bible books I quoted on today’s video- and things that relate to today’s post- MARK 7 MARK- https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/02/28/jersey-city-ride-mark-1/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/03/02/mark-2-north-bergen/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/03/04/mark-3-isaiah-61/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/03/14/mark-4/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/03/27/mark-5/ https://ccoutreach87.com/2017/04/05/mark-6/ https://ccoutreach87.com/1st-2nd-corinthians/ https://ccoutreach87.com/john-complete-links-added/ https://ccoutreach87.com/galatians-links/ https://ccoutreach87.com/romans-updated-2015/ https://ccoutreach87.com/james-2015/ I talked about New testament giving on today’s video- below are my little books I wrote years ago- they deal with this subject as well- https://ccoutreach87.com/the-great-building-of-god/ https://ccoutreach87.com/house-of-prayer-or-den-of-thieves/ https://ccoutreach87.com/further-talks-on-church-and-ministry/ I mentioned Polycarp on today’s video- below are my past teachings where I mentioned him [see- that’s why you see these sections on the teaching posts] Introduction; Yesterday I took my kids to the mall after church, I usually get lost in the book store. Even though I bought an entire shelf of books a few months back, I still can’t help from buying more books! So I picked up a few more and found a comfortable bench and started reading the History of Christianity. At the house I am almost thru with another ‘history of Christianity’ that covers the story of the church from Pentecost to the present day. I own a few complete volumes and have checked out many from the libraries over the years. I read from both the Protestant and Catholic [Orthodox] perspectives. I also read from the ‘out of the institutional church’ perspective. These are the histories of various groups of believers who never became Catholic, Orthodox or Protestant. I consider all these groups Christian and appreciate the tremendous wealth of knowledge that these communities provide. Now, as we go thru Acts, I want to stay as close as possible to both the doctrine and practices of the early church as seen in scripture. We are not the first [or last!] study that has attempted to do this. That is attempted to ‘get back to the original design’ as much as possible. Historically you have whole categories of believers who fit into this mindset. They are referred to as ‘Restorationist’ as opposed to Catholic, Protestant or Orthodox. The Church of Christ, The Disciples of Christ, the Anabaptists and others fall into this class. I believe you find true believers in all of these groups. As you read the history of Christianity as told by the other perspectives, you will find it interesting as to the way the institutional church describes these ‘out of church’ groups. Some are called heretics [Waldensians] others are simply seen as fringe groups. The strong institutional church has branded those who would reject her authority as schismatics and heretics on the grounds of their refusal to submit to the hierarchy of the institutional church. As we go thru Acts, I want us to read carefully and see the story as told by Luke. We will not find ‘another more true group’ in the sense that I want to start some new denomination. I also don’t want to simply find proof texts to justify doctrine. Many well meaning believers can find the verses they like the most and use them to combat the other points of view. We will see verses emphasizing the importance of water baptism, or various truths on the outworkings of the Spirit. We will see prophets functioning and read texts that clearly teach Gods sovereignty [as many as were ordained unto eternal life believed]. Instead of getting lost on these side trails, I want us to read with an open mind and allow our beliefs to be shaped by ‘the story’. I will spend time defending my own view of Local church. Not because I believe ‘my view’ is the only thing worth arguing about, but because I believe we see the intent of God for his people to be a living community of believers in this book. Right off the bat we will see giving taught in a radical way. The early church at Jerusalem will ‘continue in the Apostles doctrine and breaking of bread and prayers’. They then sell their goods and distribute to all who had need. Where in the world did they get this idea from? The Apostles doctrine obviously taught the plain teachings from Jesus on sharing what you have with others. So instead of seeing an early tithe concept, you see an early ‘give to those in need idea’ straight from the teachings of Jesus. We will see this early Jerusalem group meet daily, as opposed to seeing ‘Sunday worship’ as some sort of New Testament Sabbath. Of course this group will meet at the Temple [actually an out door courtyard called Solomon’s Porch] and from ‘house to house’. But the simple realty of Christ’s Spirit being poured out on them as a community of people will be the basic understanding of what ‘church’ is. You will find citizens of many surrounding areas going back to the their home towns after Pentecost. These believers shared the gospel with those in their regions and this is how the early church would spread. Some commentaries will show you how when Paul will eventually show up in Rome there already was an established church there. They obviously heard the gospel from these early Roman Jews who were at Jerusalem during Pentecost. So we will see ‘church planting’ from the paradigm of simple believers going to areas with the message of Christ. Those who would believe in these locations would be described as ‘the church at Corinth’ or ‘the church at Ephesus’ and so on. So we see ‘local church’ as communities of believers living in different localities. We will see the development of leadership along the lines of ‘appoint elders in every city’. Not a top heavy idea of ‘Bishop’ in the later sense of Catholic belief, but a simple ordaining [recognizing!] of those in the various cities who were stable enough in the basic truths of the gospel, that in Paul’s absence these elders were to be trusted as spiritual guides. Now, many of our brothers can trace the historic office of Bishop as a fairly early development in church history. Polycarp and others were considered direct disciples of the Apostles who would be seen as Bishops and even write of the importance of Bishops for the church ‘Where there is no Bishop there is no church’. This will cause many well meaning believers to eventually become Catholic/Orthodox as they read the church fathers and see the very early development of Catholic Christianity. In many of the church fathers writings you will also see an early belief in the Eucharist as being the actual Body and Blood of Jesus. To the consternation of many Protestants you even find Luther condemning fellow Protestants for not taking literally the words of Jesus ‘this IS my Body’. Now, I will not defend transubstantiation, but try to follow the trend lines in Acts as to the lack of this doctrine being a part of the early church. We will find Paul’s letter to the Corinthians addressing the Lords Supper, but for the most part we do not see a strong belief in the transmitting of divine grace to the soul thru the eating of Christ’s literal Body and Blood as they ‘broke bread’. We do see the sharing of the common meal and the ‘Eucharist’ as one meal called the ‘love feast’. Only later on in church history is there a division made between the full fellowship meal and the Eucharist. So to be frank about it, I will challenge both our Catholic and Orthodox brothers on some very fundamental beliefs. Well I hope this brief introduction sets the proper tone for the rest of this study, God bless you guys and I hope you get something out of it. John. [parts]

Mark 7:1 Then came together unto him the Pharisees, and certain of the scribes, which came from Jerusalem. Mark 7:2 And when they saw some of his disciples eat bread with defiled, that is to say, with unwashen, hands, they found fault. Mark 7:3 For the Pharisees, and all the Jews, except they wash their hands oft, eat not, holding the tradition of the elders. Mark 7:4 And when they come from the market, except they wash, they eat not. And many other things there be, which they have received to hold, as the washing of cups, and pots, brasen vessels, and of tables. Mark 7:5 Then the Pharisees and scribes asked him, Why walk not thy disciples according to the tradition of the elders, but eat bread with unwashen hands? Mark 7:6 He answered and said unto them, Well hath Esaias prophesied of you hypocrites, as it is written, This people honoureth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Mark 7:7 Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men. Mark 7:8 For laying aside the commandment of God, ye hold the tradition of men, as the washing of pots and cups: and many other such like things ye do. Mark 7:9 And he said unto them, Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition. Mark 7:10 For Moses said, Honour thy father and thy mother; and, Whoso curseth father or mother, let him die the death: Mark 7:11 But ye say, If a man shall say to his father or mother, It is Corban, that is to say, a gift, by whatsoever thou mightest be profited by me; he shall be free. Mark 7:12 And ye suffer him no more to do ought for his father or his mother; Mark 7:13 Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things do ye. Mark 7:14 And when he had called all the people unto him, he said unto them, Hearken unto me every one of you, and understand: Mark 7:15 There is nothing from without a man, that entering into him can defile him: but the things which come out of him, those are they that defile the man. Mark 7:16 If any man have ears to hear, let him hear. Mark 7:17 And when he was entered into the house from the people, his disciples asked him concerning the parable. Mark 7:18 And he saith unto them, Are ye so without understanding also? Do ye not perceive, that whatsoever thing from without entereth into the man, it cannot defile him; Mark 7:19 Because it entereth not into his heart, but into the belly, and goeth out into the draught, purging all meats? Mark 7:20 And he said, That which cometh out of the man, that defileth the man. Mark 7:21 For from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, Mark 7:22 Thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness: Mark 7:23 All these evil things come from within, and defile the man. Mark 7:24 And from thence he arose, and went into the borders of Tyre and Sidon, and entered into an house, and would have no man know it: but he could not be hid. Mark 7:25 For a certain woman, whose young daughter had an unclean spirit, heard of him, and came and fell at his feet: Mark 7:26 The woman was a Greek, a Syrophenician by nation; and she besought him that he would cast forth the devil out of her daughter. Mark 7:27 But Jesus said unto her, Let the children first be filled: for it is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it unto the dogs. Mark 7:28 And she answered and said unto him, Yes, Lord: yet the dogs under the table eat of the children’s crumbs. Mark 7:29 And he said unto her, For this saying go thy way; the devil is gone out of thy daughter. Mark 7:30 And when she was come to her house, she found the devil gone out, and her daughter laid upon the bed. Mark 7:31 And again, departing from the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, he came unto the sea of Galilee, through the midst of the coasts of Decapolis. Mark 7:32 And they bring unto him one that was deaf, and had an impediment in his speech; and they beseech him to put his hand upon him. Mark 7:33 And he took him aside from the multitude, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spit, and touched his tongue; Mark 7:34 And looking up to heaven, he sighed, and saith unto him, Ephphatha, that is, Be opened. Mark 7:35 And straightway his ears were opened, and the string of his tongue was loosed, and he spake plain. Mark 7:36 And he charged them that they should tell no man: but the more he charged them, so much the more a great deal they published it; Mark 7:37 And were beyond measure astonished, saying, He hath done all things well: he maketh both the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak. 7 Nevertheless I tell you the truth; It is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I depart, I will send him unto you. 8 And when he is come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of righteousness, and of judgment: 9 Of sin, because they believe not on me; 10 Of righteousness, because I go to my Father, and ye see me no more; 11 Of judgment, because the prince of this world is judged. 12 I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. 13 Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will shew you things to come. 1Corinthians 15:1 Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached unto you, which also ye have received, and wherein ye stand; 1Corinthians 15:2 By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto you, unless ye have believed in vain. 1Corinthians 15:3 For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures; 1Corinthians 15:4 And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according to the scriptures: James 1:27 Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations Psalm 110:1 The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my righthand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations 41 While the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them, 42 Saying, What think ye of Christ? whose son is he? They say unto him, The son of David. 43 He saith unto them, How then doth David in spirit call him Lord, saying, 44 The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool? 45 If David then call him Lord, how is he his son? 46 And no man was able to answer him a word, neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions. Matt. 22 2 Timothy 4:6 For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. In Context | Full Chapter | Other Translations

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https://plus.google.com/108013627259688810902/posts https://vimeo.com/user37400385 john chiarelloFollow On https://www.linkedin.com/home?trk=hb_logo http://johnchiarello.tumblr.com/ http://ccoutreach.over-blog.com/ Note- Please do me a favor, those who read/like the posts- re-post them on other sites as well as the site you read them on- Thanks- John.#

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Proverbs 13–14

Proverbs 13–14 (Listen)

13   A wise son hears his father’s instruction,     but a scoffer does not listen to rebuke. 2   From the fruit of his mouth a man eats what is good,     but the desire of the treacherous is for violence. 3   Whoever guards his mouth preserves his life;     he who opens wide his lips comes to ruin. 4   The soul of the sluggard craves and gets nothing,     while the soul of the diligent is richly supplied. 5   The righteous hates falsehood,     but the wicked brings shameOr stench‘>1 and disgrace. 6   Righteousness guards him whose way is blameless,     but sin overthrows the wicked. 7   One pretends to be rich,Or One makes himself rich‘>2 yet has nothing;     another pretends to be poor,Or another makes himself poor‘>3 yet has great wealth. 8   The ransom of a man’s life is his wealth,     but a poor man hears no threat. 9   The light of the righteous rejoices,     but the lamp of the wicked will be put out. 10   By insolence comes nothing but strife,     but with those who take advice is wisdom. 11   Wealth gained hastilyOr by fraud‘>4 will dwindle,     but whoever gathers little by little will increase it. 12   Hope deferred makes the heart sick,     but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life. 13   Whoever despises the wordOr a word‘>5 brings destruction on himself,     but he who reveres the commandmentOr a commandment‘>6 will be rewarded. 14   The teaching of the wise is a fountain of life,     that one may turn away from the snares of death. 15   Good sense wins favor,     but the way of the treacherous is their ruin.Probable reading (compare Septuagint, Syriac, Vulgate); Hebrew is rugged, or is an enduring rut‘>7 16   Every prudent man acts with knowledge,     but a fool flaunts his folly. 17   A wicked messenger falls into trouble,     but a faithful envoy brings healing. 18   Poverty and disgrace come to him who ignores instruction,     but whoever heeds reproof is honored. 19   A desire fulfilled is sweet to the soul,     but to turn away from evil is an abomination to fools. 20   Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise,     but the companion of fools will suffer harm. 21   DisasterOr Evil‘>8 pursues sinners,     but the righteous are rewarded with good. 22   A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children,     but the sinner’s wealth is laid up for the righteous. 23   The fallow ground of the poor would yield much food,     but it is swept away through injustice. 24   Whoever spares the rod hates his son,     but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.Or who loves him disciplines him early‘>9 25   The righteous has enough to satisfy his appetite,     but the belly of the wicked suffers want. 14   The wisest of women builds her house,     but folly with her own hands tears it down. 2   Whoever walks in uprightness fears the LORD,     but he who is devious in his ways despises him. 3   By the mouth of a fool comes a rod for his back,Or In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride‘>10     but the lips of the wise will preserve them. 4   Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean,     but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. 5   A faithful witness does not lie,     but a false witness breathes out lies. 6   A scoffer seeks wisdom in vain,     but knowledge is easy for a man of understanding. 7   Leave the presence of a fool,     for there you do not meet words of knowledge. 8   The wisdom of the prudent is to discern his way,     but the folly of fools is deceiving. 9   Fools mock at the guilt offering,     but the upright enjoy acceptance.Hebrew but among the upright is acceptance‘>11 10   The heart knows its own bitterness,     and no stranger shares its joy. 11   The house of the wicked will be destroyed,     but the tent of the upright will flourish. 12   There is a way that seems right to a man,     but its end is the way to death.Hebrew ways of death‘>12 13   Even in laughter the heart may ache,     and the end of joy may be grief. 14   The backslider in heart will be filled with the fruit of his ways,     and a good man will be filled with the fruit of his ways. 15   The simple believes everything,     but the prudent gives thought to his steps. 16   One who is wise is cautiousOr fears [the Lord]‘>13 and turns away from evil,     but a fool is reckless and careless. 17   A man of quick temper acts foolishly,     and a man of evil devices is hated. 18   The simple inherit folly,     but the prudent are crowned with knowledge. 19   The evil bow down before the good,     the wicked at the gates of the righteous. 20   The poor is disliked even by his neighbor,     but the rich has many friends. 21   Whoever despises his neighbor is a sinner,     but blessed is he who is generous to the poor. 22   Do they not go astray who devise evil?     Those who devise good meetOr show‘>14 steadfast love and faithfulness. 23   In all toil there is profit,     but mere talk tends only to poverty. 24   The crown of the wise is their wealth,     but the folly of fools brings folly. 25   A truthful witness saves lives,     but one who breathes out lies is deceitful. 26   In the fear of the LORD one has strong confidence,     and his children will have a refuge. 27   The fear of the LORD is a fountain of life,     that one may turn away from the snares of death. 28   In a multitude of people is the glory of a king,     but without people a prince is ruined. 29   Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding,     but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly. 30   A tranquilOr healing‘>15 heart gives life to the flesh,     but envyOr jealousy‘>16 makes the bones rot. 31   Whoever oppresses a poor man insults his Maker,     but he who is generous to the needy honors him. 32   The wicked is overthrown through his evildoing,     but the righteous finds refuge in his death. 33   Wisdom rests in the heart of a man of understanding,     but it makes itself known even in the midst of fools.Or Wisdom rests quietly in the heart of a man of understanding, but makes itself known in the midst of fools‘>17 34   Righteousness exalts a nation,     but sin is a reproach to any people. 35   A servant who deals wisely has the king’s favor,     but his wrath falls on one who acts shamefully.

Footnotes

[1] 13:5 Or stench [2] 13:7 Or One makes himself rich [3] 13:7 Or another makes himself poor [4] 13:11 Or by fraud [5] 13:13 Or a word [6] 13:13 Or a commandment [7] 13:15 Probable reading (compare Septuagint, Syriac, Vulgate); Hebrew is rugged, or is an enduring rut [8] 13:21 Or Evil [9] 13:24 Or who loves him disciplines him early [10] 14:3 Or In the mouth of a fool is a rod of pride [11] 14:9 Hebrew but among the upright is acceptance [12] 14:12 Hebrew ways of death [13] 14:16 Or fears [the Lord] [14] 14:22 Or show [15] 14:30 Or healing [16] 14:30 Or jealousy [17] 14:33 Or Wisdom rests quietly in the heart of a man of understanding, but makes itself known in the midst of fools

(ESV)

New Testament:

2 Timothy 3:1–9

2 Timothy 3:1–9 (Listen)

Godlessness in the Last Days

3 But understand this, that in the last days there will come times of difficulty. 2 For people will be lovers of self, lovers of money, proud, arrogant, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, 3 heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, 4 treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, 5 having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people. 6 For among them are those who creep into households and capture weak women, burdened with sins and led astray by various passions, 7 always learning and never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth. 8 Just as Jannes and Jambres opposed Moses, so these men also oppose the truth, men corrupted in mind and disqualified regarding the faith. 9 But they will not get very far, for their folly will be plain to all, as was that of those two men.

(ESV)

Psalm:

Psalm 68:19–35

Psalm 68:19–35 (Listen)

19   Blessed be the Lord,     who daily bears us up;     God is our salvation. Selah 20   Our God is a God of salvation,     and to GOD, the Lord, belong deliverances from death. 21   But God will strike the heads of his enemies,     the hairy crown of him who walks in his guilty ways. 22   The Lord said,     “I will bring them back from Bashan,   I will bring them back from the depths of the sea, 23   that you may strike your feet in their blood,     that the tongues of your dogs may have their portion from the foe.” 24   Your procession isOr has been‘>1 seen, O God,     the procession of my God, my King, into the sanctuary— 25   the singers in front, the musicians last,     between them virgins playing tambourines: 26   “Bless God in the great congregation,     the LORD, O youThe Hebrew for you is plural here‘>2 who are of Israel’s fountain!” 27   There is Benjamin, the least of them, in the lead,     the princes of Judah in their throng,     the princes of Zebulun, the princes of Naphtali. 28   Summon your power, O God,By revocalization (compare Septuagint); Hebrew Your God has summoned your power‘>3     the power, O God, by which you have worked for us. 29   Because of your temple at Jerusalem     kings shall bear gifts to you. 30   Rebuke the beasts that dwell among the reeds,     the herd of bulls with the calves of the peoples.   Trample underfoot those who lust after tribute;     scatter the peoples who delight in war.The meaning of the Hebrew verse is uncertain‘>4 31   Nobles shall come from Egypt;     Cush shall hasten to stretch out her hands to God. 32   O kingdoms of the earth, sing to God;     sing praises to the Lord, Selah 33   to him who rides in the heavens, the ancient heavens;     behold, he sends out his voice, his mighty voice. 34   Ascribe power to God,     whose majesty is over Israel,     and whose power is in the skies. 35   Awesome is God from hisSeptuagint; Hebrew your‘>5 sanctuary;     the God of Israel—he is the one who gives power and strength to his people.   Blessed be God!

Footnotes

[1] 68:24 Or has been [2] 68:26 The Hebrew for you is plural here [3] 68:28 By revocalization (compare Septuagint); Hebrew Your God has summoned your power [4] 68:30 The meaning of the Hebrew verse is uncertain [5] 68:35 Septuagint; Hebrew your

(ESV)

Proverb:

Proverbs 23:13–14

Proverbs 23:13–14 (Listen)

13   Do not withhold discipline from a child;     if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. 14   If you strike him with the rod,     you will save his soul from Sheol.

(ESV)

[seachranaidhe]

ITS A STORY THAT HAS TO BE TOLD OVER AND OVER SO THAT OTHERS CAN SEE WHAT THEY DONE TO IRELAND

O MOTHER OF IRELAND

O mother of Ireland, what have they done, They sold us out for a mere 30 pieces of silver. As i walk the graveyard and look at the flags above and feel the tears flow and ask the question why? their fight was to free Ireland in their hearts they believed this would happen, they even starved themselves to death to crush the British crown. And now they claim the war is over, but…

[tpanan]

My Sunday Daily Blessings

July 25, 2021

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Roman Rite Calendar) Lectionary 110, Cycle B

First Reading: 2 Kings 4:42-44

A man came from Baal-shalishah bringing to Elisha, the man of God, twenty barley loaves made from the firstfruits, and fresh grain in the ear. Elisha said, “Give it to the people to eat.” But his servant objected, “How can I set this before a hundred people?”  Elisha insisted, “Give it to the people to eat.” “For thus says the LORD, ‘They shall eat and there shall be some left over.’”  And when they had eaten, there was some left over, as the LORD had said.

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 145: 10-11, 15-16, 17-18

"The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs."

Second Reading: Ephesians 4:1-6

Brothers and sisters: I, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace: one body and one Spirit, as you were also called to the one hope of your call; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

Verse before the Gospel: Luke 7:16

Alleluia, Alleluia

"A great prophet has risen in our midst. God has visited his people."

Alleluia, Alleluia

Gospel: John 6: 1-15

Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee. A large crowd followed him, because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. The Jewish feast of Passover was near. When Jesus raised his eyes and saw that a large crowd was coming to him, he said to Philip, “Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?” He said this to test him, because he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Two hundred days’ wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little.” One of his disciples,

Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?”

Jesus said, “Have the people recline.” Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted. When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples, “Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted.” So they collected them, and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves that had been more than they could eat. When the people saw the sign he had done, they said, “This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world.”  Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him off to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain alone.

**Meditation:

Can anything on this earth truly satisfy the deepest longing and hunger we experience for God? A great multitude had gathered to hear Jesus, no doubt because they were hungry for the word of life. Jesus' disciples wanted to send them away at the end of the day because they did not have the resources to feed them. They even complained how much money it would take to feed such a large crowd - at least six month's wages! Jesus, the Bread of Life, took the little they had - five loaves and two fish - and giving thanks to his heavenly Father, distributed to all until they were satisfied of their hunger.

Jesus is the true bread from heaven that gives us abundant life The people of Israel had been waiting for the prophet whom Moses had promised: The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brethren - him shall you heed(Deuteronomy 18:15). The signs which Jesus did, including the miraculous feeding of the five thousand signified that God has indeed sent him as the anointed Prophet and King. Jesus' feeding of the five thousand is the only miracle that is repeated in all four Gospel accounts. What is the significance of this particular miracle? The miraculous feeding of such a great multitude pointed to God's provision of manna in the wilderness for the people of Israel under Moses' leadership (Exodus 16). This daily provision of food in the barren wilderness foreshadowed the true heavenly bread which Jesus would offer his followers.

The food that makes us live for ever in Jesus Christ Jesus makes a claim which only God can make: He is the true bread of heaven that can satisfy the deepest hunger we experience. The sign of the multiplication of the loaves when the Lord says the blessing, breaks, and distributes through his disciples prefigures the superabundance of the unique bread of his Eucharist or Lord's Supper. When we receive from the Lord's table we unite ourselves to Jesus Christ, who makes us sharers in his body and blood. Ignatius of Antioch (35-107 A.D.) calls it the "one bread that provides the medicine of immortality, the antidote for death, and the food that makes us live for ever in Jesus Christ" (Ad Eph. 20,2). This supernatural food is healing for both body and soul and strength for our journey heavenward.

When you approach the Table of the Lord, what do you expect to receive? Healing, pardon, comfort, and rest for your soul? The Lord has much more for us, more than we can ask or imagine. The principal fruit of receiving the Eucharist at the Lord's Table is an intimate union with Jesus Christ, our Divine Healer and Savior. As bodily nourishment restores lost strength, so the Eucharist strengthens us in charity and enables us to break with disordered attachments to creatures and to be more firmly rooted in the love of Christ. Do you hunger for the "bread of life"?

The Lord alone can satisfy the deepest longing of our heart The feeding of the five thousand shows the remarkable generosity of God and his great kindness towards us. When God gives, he gives abundantly. He gives more than we need for ourselves so that we may have something to share with others, especially those who lack what they need. God takes the little we have and multiplies it for the good of others. Do you trust in God's provision for you and do you share freely with others, especially those who are in need?

Lord Jesus, you satisfy the deepest longing of our heart and you feed us with the finest of wheat (Psalm 81:16). Fill me with gratitude and give me a generous heart that I may freely share with others what you have given to me.

Sources:

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

**Meditations may be freely reprinted and translated into other languages for non-profit use only. Please cite copyright and original source. Copyright 2021 Daily Scripture Readings and Meditation, dailyscripture.net author Don Schwager

[fangirlbase]

Spasenie

Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Hemrione Granger / Viktor Krum X Hermione Granger

Rated: E

Warnings: angs; darkfic; +18

Summary: A world where Lord Voldemort would be able to ascend and dominate magical England could be an almost impossible reality in the eyes of another's trio as soon as the hunt for horcruxes began, but unfortunately that nightmare had become real.Harry Potter was dead and there was nothing he could do for Muggle-borns.With a decree, all of the over-the-age non-magical blood wizards became servants of death eaters, with women destined for a far worse end. A harem had been created, with witches being forced to surrender to the worst wizards that England could see.In the middle of it all, Hermione had only one alternative to save her mind: an exchange.Hermione Jane Granger traded her escort services for her freedom. In ten years' time she would be free again, ready to start again far from English territory.But Viktor Krum was not prepared to let her sacrifice herself for another 108 months, even if it meant buying her from the Bulgarian wizarding brothel and protecting her at home.

Prolog | Edno

                                                         Edno

June 2000

Two years had passed since the death of Harry Potter, since the rise of Lord Voldemort.

Two years had passed since the day that Hermione saw her life disappear.

Devoid of magic and a wand, she was fragile and helpless around diners and supporters, who used enslaved girls to get money. They received the money and they did the work, never seeing their color. Because it was the muggle who had conspired against her leader, Hermione was in constant demand, always getting hurt from all those torture sessions.

She was fed up with it all, having formed a plan in the past few months. He would do anything to get rid of that condition of existence. Smuggling a scroll and feather from her only ally, she wrote to women in different countries for help. Italy, France, Portugal, Bulgaria, Belgium, Spain, Greece and Denmark.

Someone needed to hear your cry for help.

-Are you sure you want to do this? - Draco Malfoy questioned her, still in bed,

-Do you really want me to stay in this hell? - Hermione replied, not caring about her nudity, just wanting to write as soon as possible.

-I do not want to be separated from you, I thought I had already made that very clear. - Draco got up from the bed, putting the sheets aside and going to the woman who smoothed the parchment. It had been so long since the last time he touched a role… .. He wrapped his arms around the brunette's back, hugging her, resting his face on her shoulders.

-That's kind of hard being in all this situation in that harem. You know I have no choice, anyone can take me. - His tone was sad, avoiding looking the boy in the eye.

Tears came to her eyes, she would go crazy if she continued on this for any longer.

-I will do anything to get you out of here, have you just for me…. - The anguish was noticeable in Draco's tone, expressing sincerity in his words.

-That might be possible if…. You buy me. But this is…. - Hermione thought that possibility was outrageous! Her condition was terrible, but she could not bear to be humiliated in a different way, no matter how much it saved her.

-If the solution is that I do! I will be twenty-one in a year, I will have full control over my bank account and I will be able to leave the house. I can take you along and get rid of it all!

-As much as I appreciate your will, you know I won't have peace. As much as you buy me, you will still be a diner, and you will eventually be forced to share….

-I will not do that, you will be mine alone.

Hermione gave a resigned sigh, sticking their mouths in a passionate, languid kiss. Draco Malfoy had been his first and, strange as it was, he did not agree with everything she had been subjected to. As much as he mistreated her at school, he had had the courage to pay to be her first. He knew that most likely she would never have done something like that and that he - unlike other diners - would be loving and kind so that she would not suffer more than the new condition required.

She had attacked a jar on her head, but he soon overpowered her and over the months he fell in love with the woman, keeping her company when he was hurt or cursed. Since then, he had made plans to free her from that shared condition, with a piece of her dying whenever he heard about what they had done to her. No one knew about their relationship, which was a plus for that attempted escape.

-I need to at least try, Draco. If I don't make it, I can take another year here, until you can take me home.

-For our house.

They lived in that sweet illusion that they would be able to be a happy couple - at least for four hours a week - dreaming of the day that would be exclusive to each other.

-Could you pass the parchment to me, please?

-On here. I'll be waiting for you in bed. Draco kissed the woman on the shoulder, voting for the soft sheets.

The feeling of touching a quill and parchment after a long time was invigorating. Allowing herself to breathe in the scent of paper, Hermione controlled her emotions, not allowing herself to be carried away by small pleasures that had been taken away two years before.

“I send this cry for help to anyone who can hear a desperate soul. I was a muggle born witch until the one who should not be named to conquer the UK. I could not escape, I am being made a slave in a harem located in the heart of England and I beg for help. I fear what will happen to me if I stay in prison longer - I was a war veteran and if I continue at that pace, I won't have many more years of youth. I pray for mercy with each passing day, but they refuse to kill me or let me kill myself, so all I can do is run. I am willing to exchange years of service in your establishments for misery. I have already suffered a lot in the hands of death eaters, but I believe that it still has my beauty, it could increase the profits of their homes.

In the hope of salvation,

Hermione Jane Granger ”

-I need another favor from you. - Hermione asked when she returned to the bed, hugging Draco's body.

-I dispatch the letter to you. He kissed her forehead, pulling her closer.

-Not only that, you are the only one with a wand and magic around here. Can you hide my signature and multiply the scrolls, please?

-I do that as soon as I get back to my room, you can rest assured.

Although they had been together for two years, Draco never allowed Hermione to touch her magic wand. Not that he was prejudiced on that point, but he thought she would suffer even more if she saw him do magic in front of her, or worse, try against her own life if she had one in her hands. He knew of the multiple times that she had tried to take her life, always being prevented by others. She was not suicidal, she only saw it as the only alternative to escape the situation of slavery. The number of times she had begged him on his first night still broke his heart. What she most wanted in her current situation was for her pain and suffering to end, but even her rapists did not allow it, always leaving her on the brink of death, but not completing the process.

It was amazing how she hadn't gone crazy yet.

-Please, Draco. Don't forget any letters. - Hermione hugged her body tightly, breathing in her scent for breath.

-I'm not that childish at that point, Hermione….

And in fact he was not. Draco had even thought about disappearing with the cards, but he couldn't. Hermione deserved at least a chance to try to survive. As soon as he got home, he bewitched the scrolls so that his signature could only be seen outside UK domains, dispatching them all that same night. He wanted to be his savior, but until he was 21 he couldn't do anything.

***

Three weeks and no answer. Hermione was already convinced that his life and body were so insignificant that even other people would not want to profit from him. Immersed in a deep depression, she tried again against her life, being ridiculed in the middle of the harem by the diners. Voldemort amused himself sadistically whenever she tried to end the damage he had done to her, not being far away when the woman was thrown naked in the center of the room. With a trickle of blood running down her neck, she was tied up and prevented from continuing what she was trying to do, remaining in the cold until nightfall.

After her rooms were searched and any sharp objects had been destroyed, she was taken back, knowing that she would be visited by someone at night to further torment her judgment. When the door to her room opened, Hermione sighed with relief when she saw the blonde head sneak in and lock the lock.

-Draco! - She ran to him and cried in his chest, being hugged lovingly.

-I knew what you tried to do today….

-I can not take it anymore….

-I know my love…. I received an owl today, I think someone answered you.

Her eyes were bright with hope. Without waiting any longer, Hermione abruptly separated from him, taking off his overcoat and starting to look for the piece of paper, not seeing that Draco was pulling it out of his shirt.

-Here, Hermione.

She took the paper from her hands as if it were a glass of water for someone who had been lost in the desert for a long time.

And she was thirsty for a sip of freedom.

His hands were shaking so badly that Draco had to help unroll the parchment, staying well away from Hurricane Hermione that didn't stop in place. She paced back and forth, trying to concentrate on reading.

"Sofia, June 24, 2000

Dear Miss. Hermione Granger, we at Kŭshta na udovolstviyata offer a portkey so that you can introduce yourself to us. Due to the high dangerousness that your hiring takes place, more information will be given as soon as you are in Bulgarian territory.

The key is contracted for the dawn of the first of July, in the Epping Grove.

With wishes for a safe crossing,

Zornitsa Burkov ”

-And then….? Draco was distressed by the unsettling silence of the woman in front of him.

-I only have three more days here… .- Hermione turned her body in front of Draco, looking at him with watery eyes, but with a huge smile on her face.- I did it, Draco… - She whispered, fearing be heard. - They'll get me out of here….

Hermione took two steps and threw herself at the man, pressing herself against him and shooting out tears. Draco was relieved that the woman in his life was able to escape all that suffering, even if part of him turned green with envy that she was able to escape and he did not. Even if he renounced his Black Mark Voldemort would leave him alone.

-And where will I need to travel to see you? Draco whispered against his hair, holding his lean body with all his strength.

-Bulgaria.

Draco reasoned: as much as there were supporters of darkness in the country, Voldemort had no power beyond the United Kingdom. He had been content with what was his since the beginning, knowing that the attempt to expand to other regions could be catastrophic. The Bulgarian Veelas and half French Veelas had enough magic of light to prevent him from entering their domain, with the rest of the countries repudiating all the darkness that the United Kingdom emanated. Since two years earlier, when most light wizards asked for extradition to neighboring countries, only Death Eaters, Muggle-borns and poorer families were left who could not escape in time.

-Even if they find you there, I doubt they'll be able to bring you back.

-If they find me there, they'll probably kill me. And honestly, after all I've been through, I would thank them for that. Since they don't want to give me that taste, I know I'll be fine.

-And how are we going to get you out of here?

-The key is contracted for the dawn of the first day, in the Epping Forest. He is in Greater London, but how am I going to get out of here… ..

-I'll take you. I come here around midnight and cast a disillusioning spell on you. we went out the back door and apparated in the woods.

-They can't see you with me, they'll blame you for my disappearance.

-I can do my thing.

They didn't waste any more time on words. The bold and passionate kiss they exchanged contained more promises than they could actually keep. The glimpse of a life together, starting a family in a distant country seemed ever closer - at least it was with that illusion that they liked to live. That night had been completely different from the day, being naked was not a sign of humiliation, it was being delivered body and soul to the person who shared your heart. The two made love for most of the night, with Draco just leaving that of his room at dawn, preventing them from seeing him. I didn't want other things to be thought well at the time of the championship.

Those three days had almost dragged on for the woman. She was so anxious! He had even thought about packing his things for the escape, but his belongings were limited to personal care products and some fabrics with which he dressed. Yes, diners were creative at that point: they relied on Greek and Roman togas to facilitate access to the girls' bodies. Hermione had nothing to fix, the truth was that, there was only a wait.

She needed a plan and as much as it hurt to execute it it was the only alternative of not calling her disappearance. So, in the late afternoon of June 30, when a diner chose her to be satisfied, Hermione did her best and impossible to tease him, humiliating his masculinity and character, getting on the verge of death once again. The wizard had been irritated by the insults, throwing punches at his face and body, used curses and pulled a lot of blood. She put up with it all with a smile on her face - leading the man to think that she had actually gone crazy, no longer caring what her body suffered.

She lay on the floor of her bedroom until the end of the night, when Draco - along with a disillusioning spell - entered the room, gasping in surprise at seeing her lover's condition. Kneeling beside him, he placed two fingers on his jugular to see if they still had a heartbeat. It was just what was missing! She was killed on the day of her escape! Sighing relieved by the strong pulse, Draco stroked his hair to wake the woman, who still had a smile on her face.

-Just get me out of here.

With difficulties, Hermione got to her feet with the help of her lover, smiling like a child when she felt the spell surrounding her. That yes was a kind of magic that she missed for her body. How many times had I not done that to study hidden in the library of…. In…. What was the name of the school they were studying?

As much as attempts to erase Muggle-born memory had not been effective, some things had been dragged from his memories: the name of the school of witchcraft, how to hold a wand and his entire life before he became a witch. Occasional lapses of memory about the two boys who always accompanied her came back and as much as she tried, she could not remember in detail who they were, but she was aware that they were extremely important.

Draco covered her body as best he could, helping her to walk out of the building. A diner was on the lookout that night and almost caught them, but they managed to escape successfully. mentalizing the park he had visited during the day, Draco apparated with the woman in the indicated place, dispelling the illusion when he noticed an elderly man standing near the entrance to the forest. He approached first and when he noticed the bewitched boot on the floor, he concluded that this was his farewell, He called Hermione with his head, pulling on her waist and giving a breathtaking kiss, pasting her foreheads and promising:

-In up to two weeks I will check how you are.

-Thank you very much, Draco. - Hermione disengaged herself from the boy, shaking her head.

Draco noticed Hermione's discomfort, crouching and pulling his hand, leading her to the boot.

-Here, hold on tight. - His heart sank because the woman knew in theory how magic worked, but forgot simple actions like using a portkey.

With a kiss on his forehead, Draco stood up and walked away a few feet, feeling his heart tighten painfully as he felt the air around him suck and his girl disappeared right in front of him.

She had done it.

Hermione had done it.

Draco allowed two or three tears to escape, apparating to a nearby bar so he could disguise the time to return to the Mansion.

***

The whole time that Hermione was stuck in that whirlwind, her mind screamed - and maybe her mouth too. When they finally landed, it was already more than four in the morning - due to the time zone. You got up and ignored her, greeted the woman in front of you and Apparated. Hermione was still shaken by the sudden change of place, looking around.

Soon, it would be dawn, but the moonlight still allowed her to glimpse where she had landed: the open space was clearly the back of a house, which apparently looked like a lady's house. There was no fence, but neither did he imply that he was isolated from the world. The woman was still looking at her, her expression not pleasant. Why the hell was she still on the floor?

Standing up in a pulp, Hermione got to her feet, but as she took two steps towards the woman she noticed her vision darken, collapsing on the floor. I was still awake, but very weak. She tried to get up, but her body was very limp due to the injuries + apparatuses + portkey.

-Wake up! Wake up! - The woman crouched down beside him, amazed when she noticed the girl's condition.

Hermione blinked her eyes quickly, refusing to fall right now! Leaning on his wife, he forced himself to get up and crawl into the Mansion, being supported by the older woman. Zornitsa had a faint sense of what was going on in England from what he saw out there, but when he saw with his own eyes what they had done to one of the greatest witches of that time, he had run out of breath and got sick. Hermione would be lucky if she survived until the end of the day, she thought.

Her minority partners had been against the girl's rescue, fearing Lord Voldemort's fury, but since she had most of the shares in the house, he had stepped foot and given the final decision to hire her. It had been an expensive portkey, but it was worth it. Just knowing that he had saved a life from that environment already made his pocket less painful.

Walking at the pace of the youngest, Zornitsa took her to where her room would be, fetching some water for her, only speaking when she realized that she was not in shock.

-What they did to you?

-I needed to be forgotten. If I was badly hurt, they might think I died.

The girl was smart.

And before I could ask any further questions, Hermione burst into tears. Their solutions were so loud and intense that they woke the girls in the nearby rooms, who soon perched on their doorstep, wanting to know what was going on. Hermione only realized she was being watched when she heard gasps of surprise and disgust, but she didn't care. She burst into tears with a giant smile on her face, throwing her body against Zornitsa's and hugging her tightly.

Zornitsa had never been emotionally involved with any of his girls, but the catastrophic state of that particular one had broken his heart. Hermione was exhausted, but all the mistreatment mixed with the magic of the trip had touched her system. Fearing the worst, Zornitsa did not like it when she fell asleep in his arms, calling one of the other girls and asking for a cloth with water. When the fever started, she feared that the girl would not endure. The thrill of being free would probably have been too much for your body. While Hermione slept, Zornitsa made a point of cleaning her body and taking care of her wounds, being surprised when at the end of the day the girl was awake and hungry. Forbidden to leave her room, Hermione obeyed and devoured the soup that the director was sending, restoring her strength before talking about the terms of work.

It was only on the third day at the house that Hermione was allowed to leave the room during the day. Already stronger and healed of the strongest injuries, the woman followed the director for a tour of the house.

-I am glad you recovered in such a short time.

-I wouldn't have minded if I hadn't. - Hermione was sincere.

-I figured I'd say that. I am sorry for whatever has gone on in those two years, but I already say that you will have all the care in our house. Nothing that happened there will happen here.

- You can't guarantee that.

-But of course I can! Any act that makes you uncomfortable has the right to refuse to do it. If the gentleman insists, just report that we can fix it.

-About that…. I know I have a price to pay.

-Ten years. Ten years working with us and you will be free. Your portkey cost ten thousand galleons, so a thousand galleons a year is more than enough.

Hermione paled.

-I don't really know how it works, but…. Do I need to make a thousand galleons or will the simple fact of working here pay the thousand galleons?

-Didn't you research who asked for help?

-I sent it to the nearest countries. I just wanted to get out of there.

Zornitsa was glad that she responded in time. The girl could have gotten into a much worse place thinking she was escaping.

-Night here has an average of 900 galleons. With two gentlemen, in theory you would have already paid your quota for the year, so your price will be for years. - Zornitsa noticed the question in her eyes, answering before she didn't have the courage. - We usually have an agreement with our girls for 40% of the night, but in their special condition ... We can wake up to 15%.

-Me…. I'll…. To receive?

-135 galleons. If you join during your entire service, you can start a new life here. It will also be enough for personal care…. By the way, where are your belongings?

-I only had togas and no bags, so I had to leave everything there.

Zornitsa took a deep breath. What the hell were they doing in the UK.

-We usually pay at the beginning of the month, but I will make an exception and give you an advance as soon as I have your first customer. Now, as for the rules: We start working hours at 5pm and go until 2am. Other houses only start at 9 pm, but as we serve an audience that likes to have fun after hours, we cover that time. You have the day to do what you want, but you need to be back for business. Medical expenses are at your expense, unless it was an accident at work. The room you spent the last few nights is yours, but you will have a work room on the second floor, which cleaning is up to you. Magic is only allowed in the room if requested by the client, so no wand.

-That won't be a problem. I have no magic.

-Pardon? I thought you said you were a Muggle born witch.

-And I was, until two years ago. They took my wand and broke it in front of me, but even if I bought a new one, it wouldn't work. I spent months suffering memory spells in the failed attempt to make me forget about the magical world, but it only took away some memories. I have no idea how to use magic or a wand, I don't remember where I studied and how to teleport, but I remember spells, people and events.

Zornitsa was horrified.

-If by any chance they try something against you, don't hesitate to report it. We have security for all the girls in the house, but don't worry. Our gentlemen are polite enough to do nothing. Now, contraceptive potions are on the house and must be taken daily. During your menstrual period you will be relocated to the bar, taking time off.

-As for that… .. I also don't know if it will be necessary.

Zornitsa dropped the papers in his hand on the floor.

-What did they do to you, Hermione?

-Deaths, cuts, kicks and torture all over my body, but mainly in my abdomen whenever they wanted to have fun. As much as I menstruate, I sincerely believe that it doesn't work anymore.

-Did you take potions?

-Never. The few girls who got pregnant had long torture sessions, not surviving forced abortion. It was two years of that, so I think that there is nothing to happen….

-Our potions are developed with protection against sexually transmitted diseases, so you will take it. I will make an appointment with our medluxo today, for a check up and soon after you can start.

Hermione nodded, tightening her body with nervousness.

-You'll be fine, girl…. In ten years you will be free from all of this.

-Me…. There's one more thing. Now that I'm here I have my doubts whether he will really keep his promise, but… ..

-You just need to tell me you had a lover there?

-It's like that….

-And he promised to visit you?

-He who sent the letter for me, and who showed me how to use a portkey.

-Normally we do not give discounts to customers, but after everything you've been through I can think of the case, if it appears.

-I would appreciate it very much.

***

The next night Hermione was a nervous wreck, but ready. Ten to five she was already in the lobby, showered and with her toga adjusted to her body. She had no idea what to do, so she had thought about watching other colleagues and trying to imitate them. The other women had sympathized with her story, but did not know how to get there, fearing they would lose their clientele. She was very beautiful after all.

Hiding among the furniture, Hermione twisted the hem of her toga, looking around. It was still quite empty, but some men were already making their strides. Unlike the diners, they were all very handsome (although Draco was more, personal taste). They shouldn't have reached the age of forty (which was a good thing, since she had bad memories with first and second generation diners). Some men were talking to each other, drinking, while others disappeared on the stairs with the escorts.

The women danced or approached to talk, as simple as that. Hermione could do that.

Leaving her hiding place, Hermione walked over to a padded bench that would be more visible, sitting there and starting to observe the environment better. It didn't take long to be noticed, being the target of ferocious looks.

-Who is she?

-Is she new?

-I've never seen a more beautiful woman!

Three boys asked, too bad she knew absolutely nothing about Bulgarian.

-Look how you're dressed, you're asking! - The greatest decreed, laughing at the robes. - This one wants something quick, sure. How did Madame Zornitsa allow someone like her to enter here?

That was the expensive problem she had said earlier. Zornitsa was not stupid, he was watching the youngest from an early age and as soon as he realized that the thug was going to invest, he immediately offered to offer drinks on the house for him and his group of friends, distracting from his main objective.

It didn't take long for a boy not much older to sit down next to Hermione, daring to bring up the subject.

-I've never seen you around here before.

-What? I'm sorry, but I don't speak your language.

The boy was startled. A foreigner?

-Enchanted. - He scratched his English, extending his hand, I get a shy laugh from the girl.

Was he supposed to say hello to her like that? Well, it was 110% better than being pointed out by those wizards.

The boy even tried, but failed to form a decent sentence with his English, so he decided to be direct. He looked into her eyes and indicated the stairs with his head, knowing it was clear language that she would certainly understand. He found it cute when her cheeks went pink, with her nodding slightly. This was definitely her first time at it, she had no idea what to do. Afraid, Hermione took the boy's hands and went up with him, embarrassed when she missed the door to her room and found a couple finishing the program. The boy laughed at his confusion, wondering if she really was a virgin or not.

Hermione didn't know whether to kiss on the mouth or not, but she sincerely preferred not to. Her kisses had been exchanged only and exclusively with Draco and she wouldn't want to share them with anyone else, but before she could think of anything else, she felt soft lips kiss her neck. In a startled jump, Hermione clung to the boy, who was drawing circles at the base of his back with his thumbs. Dimitri wouldn't normally be so thoughtful and caring like that, but he could see how nervous she was.

It took Hermione a few seconds to calm down and relax. He wasn't hurting, he was trying to give her pleasure. Taking a deep breath she stood on tiptoe and smoothed her chest, kissing where her mouth reached. With shy kisses on her neck, she took more confidence and unbuttoned the buttons on her shirt, throwing it on the floor as soon as she felt her toga being taken off. She was quicker and opened the button of her pants, she didn't want him to see her body and give up so quickly. Dimitri was more entertained with small hands that explored his body to notice the woman's skin. As soon as she finished undressing him, he moved closer and pushed her over to the bed, where she fell comfortably. Dimitri finally looked at her for real, widening his eyes at what he saw. Certainly her medium breasts were a temptation, her thin waist made her want to grab and her intimacy was designed to make her mouth water, but…. She was covered in scars! Long and short, in addition to MUDBLOOD stuck in his forearm.

-Country? - He scratched with his English, curious.

-Voldemort. - She was more emphatic, seeing the boy's eyes widen in fear, next to his erection pump.

Afraid of not getting rid of all her past, she started to cringe, looking for a scarf to cover and hide when she felt a hand holding her. Dimitri was frightened by what he saw, but it hadn't diminished his interest in her. Laying her down again, he sinks down under it and captured one of her nipples with his mouth, willing to make her forget her reaction. Hermione was confused, wasn't she supposed to be licking him? But if he didn't do that, she might not be able to receive him. Relaxing, he felt his feathers open of their own accord, groaning when Dimitri's hands roamed over his body, sucking harder on his nipple.

He massaged her thighs, urging her to open up even more. When he abandoned her breast and directed his kisses to her intimacy, Hermione sighed loudly, curling her hips to capture him. Dimitri's face was close to his intimacy, licking his lips at the sight: nothing less than a small triangle of brown hair in his mound, with the rest smooth. Its moisture began to drain, glowing with the dim lighting of the room. No longer waiting to fall out of the mouth, Dimitri kissed her lips before giving small licks to her clitoris, turning Hemrione's hips on automatically, enjoying how she moaned.

This was the second person who did an oral on Hermione, and however much in her heart it hurt to feel like she was cheating on Draco, that was her job, whether she wanted it or not. Throwing those thoughts into the back of her brain, she had the strength to lift her body up and indicate to Dimitri that he should get on the bed. As soon as he lay down, he was surprised that she knelt against his body, prancing his ass and snapping his cock, leaving him confused where to look. Okay, she might not be a virgin, but it was definitely her first time there.

His mouth went up and down slowly, being guided by the strong sighs the boy gave, along with the caresses he gave on his ass. When he ventured his fingers through her wet folds, Hermione choked on his member, rearing up further and giving him room to go deeper. She herself had already partially forgotten what was going on, getting tired of sucking on him when he started to penetrate her with his fingers. She was ready, she would do that. Riding on his body, Hermione positioned her member better and sat down slowly against him, having Dimitri's hands on her waist for support. She took some time to assimilate that she was not being forced to do anything or that she was hurting her, smiling when she saw that he was waiting for her and probably understood what was going on in his head with such scars. When she took the first seat, Dimitri gasped. When she gave the second, he squeezed her waist tightly. In the third, he helped her to set the pace, with a thumb massaging her clitoris. Hermione felt the pleasure rise in her head, then taking her body on top of his, letting him stock her will. Dimitri had a strong, fast rhythm, drawing high moans from her, which contracted his intimacy and left him slightly deaf. He soon got tired and turned them on the bed, getting on top. Dimitri hid his face in Hermione's neck, going even deeper, with her choking on the painful depth, pushing him slightly and shaking her head. He understood, continuing his fast pace, strong but not so deep. He liked it when she lost her hands in his hair, hugging him with her arms, but he liked it even more with the high-pitched scream she gave, shaking violently beneath her, but I didn't understand what the hell she had been shouting.

He didn't take long to come, quickly withdrawing and pouring himself on his belly, falling beside him to catch his breath.

-OK? - It was your way of asking if she was all right.

Hermione stared at the ceiling, breathing hard. Half of her body felt that she had betrayed Draco because she felt pleasure and made fun of the boy, but the other part was happy just because she felt pleasure and made fun of someone else. Seeing that she was not responding, Dimitri dressed quickly and went to look for the head of the house, being genuinely concerned for the girl.

When Zornitsa entered the room, Hermione was cleaning herself, her features stunned.

-It's good for you today, dear. Get some rest.

That had been a major breakthrough for Hermione Granger and her release from Voldemort.

Too bad she had screamed for Draco while she came.

Something inside said he wouldn't show up in two weeks.

[anastpaul]

Thought for the Day – 13 September – 13 September – St John Chrysostom (347-407) Doctor – “John of the Golden Mouth”

What I find interesting is that some people in the Church think Pope Francis is a liberal who is over concerned with social justice issues.   Some of these same people would then hold Chrysostom in high regard, especially being a Doctor of the Church.   Both of these sons of the Church share much in common.

Chrysostom had just as much concern about the relationship of the bishops and priests to the laity as Pope Francis does.   Each showing concern over the laity being treated with respect and dignity, Chrysostom asked,  “How should the church be governed?   Should the patriarchs act like emperors, issuing decrees…Should bishops see themselves as local governors, demanding unquestioning submission of the people?”  Pope Francis has told priests they must be “shepherds living with the smell of the sheep.”  Chrysostom reminded those in authority that they are not rulers but preachers and pastors.  He also stressed that “each individual is answerable not to a priest, bishop, or patriarch but to God.”

Pope Francis has caused quite a stir regarding some of his statements about finances; frankly Chrysostom would not disagree with him.  Actually, I have found Chrysostom to be even more frank then Pope Francis.   He does not mince words when saying, “Lift up and stretch out your hands, not to heaven, but to the poor…if you lift up your hands in prayer without sharing with the poor, it is worth nothing.”   And Pope Francis twice quoted Chrysostom in Evangelii Gaudium, he said, “Ethics — a non-ideological ethics — would make it possible to bring about balance and a more humane social order. With this in mind, I encourage financial experts and political leaders to ponder the words of one of the sages of antiquity: ‘Not to share one’s wealth with the poor is to steal from them and to take away their livelihood.  It is not our own goods which we hold, but theirs.’”   The second quote expressed that we need look at money in a different way, basically through the eyes of Christ.

Both men have a great concern for the poor.   Chrysostom even said if we wish to honour Christ’s body we must first clothe and feed him in our brother. Then, with what we have left, adorn the altar with gold chalices.   He believed “feeding the hungry is a greater work than raising the dead.”   Pope Francis has urged us to not waste food, that throwing it away is like stealing from the poor.   He has also warned us to not, “become starched Christians, those over-educated Christians who speak of theological matters as they calmly sip their tea. No!”   Like Chrysostom, Pope Francis wants us to go out and “care for the flesh of Christ” to seek Him out in the poor.

With great pastoral care they each speak about everyday sins we all need to combat. They do not hesitate to speak out against the pharisaical behavior of keeping rules and laws while not loving our neighbour.   Chrysostom asks us, “For what does it profit if we abstain from fish and fowl and yet bite and devour our brothers and sisters?” Pope Francis tells us we are murdering Christians when we speak badly of them with others.   Reminding us, “There is no such thing as innocent slander.”

I am sure most of us occasionally have moments of “elder brother syndrome.” (Luke 11:32)   We can benefit from a reminder from both men that the Church is a hospital where anyone seeking God can come to be healed.   Chrysostom said the Church is “not a courtroom, for souls. She does not condemn on behalf of sins but grants remission of sins.”

Pope Francis sees the Church as a field hospital after battle.   Saying it is “useless to ask a seriously injured person if he has high cholesterol and about the level of his blood sugars! You have to heal his wounds. Then we can talk about everything else.”   Of course, we are all wounded sinners needing the medicine of the sacraments.   Chrysostom reminds us to not be ashamed when we repent but to have a change of heart and seek God’s love and mercy.   Mercy is a favourite topic of Pope Francis, “there is no limit to the divine mercy, which is offered to everyone…The Lord is always ready to roll away the tombstone of our sins, which separate us from Him, the light of the living.”

These are a few examples showing the similarities between both men.   I believe this shows how Chrysostom’s words are relevant for us today and that there’s nothing novel about Pope Francis’s approach.   Both men challenge us, make us uncomfortable and do not seek to please men with their words but lead them to truth.   The fact that they have so many similar things to say is ultimately a testament of the timelessness of the gospel message itself.   And proof that God is with us and working through his shepherds.”

St John Chrysostom, Pray for the Church, Pray for Pope Francis, Pray for us all!

(via AnaStpaul – Breathing Catholic)

[serenitykrp]

—WARNING : suspect may be armed and dangerous! YANG JAEWON, code named ORION, is a CREW MEMBER on an unidentified firefly-class ship, traveling through the ‘Verse under the radar. They are known for being confident, assertive, and goal-oriented, but beneath the surface, they have proven to be argumentative, insensitive, and stand-offish. Although their origin lies somewhere on their home planet VALLURIA, they have been caught by stardust and lost to the great expanse.

YOU ARE YOUR OWN EXPLOSION, BRING US YOUR VERY BEST VIOLENCE.

he is a forceful personality, a hurricane personality. his upbringing has bent his heart into twisted, jigsaw puzzle pieces, propelling him to bite, growl, scratch and learn how to survive by the edge of his teeth. he believes in actions more than words, and purpose more than chaos. he makes himself a force of nature, a human wildfire, mixes together the pieces of his soul that never seemed to match; longing for violence and understanding, adventure and peace. he has learnt that self-control is the only way he can get what he wants, and being confident and perceived as strong is often the difference between life and death. any insecurities or overabundance of emotions, he masks them with slight sarcasm, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and shoves them down even deeper than they already had been before. he doesn’t love hardly anything at all, but the few items or people that he does, become so ingrained on his heart that he is more than willing to kill for them.

he wants to surround himself with people he knows he can trust, or at least intimidate into respecting him. he is a headstrong individual, full of confidence and determination, so he knows he’s not the easiest person to live with, but he understands that there isn’t really any need to like one another—just get along and be useful. he can be ruthless with strangers, suspicious and deadly, and he is not kind to those he deems worthless or disloyal, but that’s simply because he knows the responsibility he owes to his crew, to make sure they’re safe on every job they embark on.

he doesn’t often show real emotions, preferring to bottle it up until it eats him alive, but he thinks of his crew like family and is very under-the-surface, lowkey about his protective nature over them. all of them are as important to him as any of the money or treasures they find, but he tries not to reveal any of that, doesn’t want to let them know his attachments to them. he can’t seem weak. he tends to slip up though sometimes, whenever any of them get hurt really badly, often secretly blaming himself for it, no matter the circumstances.

THERE IS NO NEWS, THERE IS ONLY THE TRUTH OF THE SIGNAL.

rule one : never look back.

the universe is full of chaos and blackness and sometimes there are no answers or reasons why. suns don’t spin to please anyone, stars don’t explode out of any malice or intention. the sky yawns and folds to its own whims and doesn’t share secrets with anyone just passing through, a blanket-wrap of diamonds in pure darkness. since his first breath, jaewon has taken these things in stride, understanding that he might never know who his parents are, why he first recollection is standing beside a dumpster, skin dressed in trash, heart formed from scraps.

it could have been anyone to pass along across this dusty alleyway, early in the evening as the large, orange sun just began to kiss the horizon; it could have been a squadron of The Zero Hunters or a clan of “the restless believers,” or wild dogs, hungry and ravenous for anything, pawing for scraps that tumble through the war-torn city streets. this isn’t the planet where tourists meander and stumble through, this isn’t the picturesque, pretty daydream the wealthy elite like to pretend they are surrounded by. valluria is the gutter, the grey area of the spectrum, a playground for the greedy and blood-thirsty, the ninth circle of hell—a desert planet mining for spice, with no hope and no other final destination.

this is the boy’s first memory, the closest to a womb he can ever bring himself to accept. there is nothing before right now, no one there to explain the universe or how it works, so from then on, he just assumes the rules are his to create.

he doesn’t remember how long he sits there until he hears someone else rummaging in the trashcan at the end of the alley. he is not terrified at all, merely curious, too young and too much a blank, white page to really know fear. he peeks out of from the box he’s shielded himself with and sees another kid there. older, trashy clothes, dirty from head to toe, too-thin arms, and a scowl as mean as any kid can look.

“what do you want?” the grungy scrounger snarls at him, giving him his best intimidating look, as though they aren’t both just as desperate for the same sort of food amidst all this garbage. “go away, go somewhere else!”

he tilts his head and frowns for a long moment, dark eyes glinting eerily in the dimming light. “i have nowhere,” he responds matter-of-factly, not willing to beg because something deep in the pit of his soul tells him never to grovel. “i have nothing.”

the kid smirks at him. “join the club.”

rule two : be like them but not one of them.

he is led back to a den of thieves, all of them older than him and taller than him and meaner than him. they teach him ruthlessness, they teach him that pain is survival, and fear belongs to other people. you can’t be scared when you have a purpose to fulfill: get food, rob treasure, steal anything, and get away fast. he runs smart, evading anyone who chases him by sheer determination, and trusts that his feet will take him back to the shed the same way he trusts his lungs to breathe in air.

the city is nothing but a grouping of shacks, small huts to house miners between 14-hour-shifts inside the spice mines, every step taken is only a few inches closer to inevitable death. if the desert storms don’t rip your soul straight out of your body, the constant wars fought between crime lords just might. provisions are scarce out here, and always fought over. spice is valuable and lucrative; individual lives are not. they are street rats, the abandoned mongrels, dodging the battles and explosions between factions, and if either clan catches them, they’ll either kill them or put them to work—which is basically the same thing.

he is quick and assertive, fearlessness and unspoken power in every step, so by the time he is eleven, he begins turning their little ragtag gang into a more profitable, organized group of criminals. he is given no position of power officially, but he’s surprisingly smart for his age, alert to things he probably shouldn’t be, and he has a way of looking straight through someone when they speak to him.

rule three : trust no god.

he is out in the desert again, outrunning a sandstorm as though they are old friends playing tag, when his whole crew is found in their hideout and slaughtered without hesitation. when he comes back, he finds nothing solid of any of them, pieces of their bodies strewn across the floor, intestines and brain matter splattered against the walls like gothic decorations from a madman. he is surrounded by the stench of iron, a smell he’ll never get out of his nostrils now, forcing himself to take a big whiff of it, forcing himself to take a slow step further inside.

understanding such a horror is nearly impossible for a thirteen-year-old, but his brain freezes this moment in his memories to dream about later, picture-framing the destruction to agonize over night after night for years to come. the ghosts he finds there haunt him with every new step he takes, but then the shadow of a net falls across his vision, wrapping itself around his arms and torso, the evil chuckle of a slaver just behind him.

on this planet, these sorts of things happen; no one will shed a tear. the poor are in abundance and therefore somehow their lives mean so much less, and it burns through jaewon’s blood like fire, the very idea of it. people get snatched up and disappear all the time, sold for ransoms or labor or sex objects, phasing in and out of reality until you’re not rightfully sure if they were ever there in the first place.

when he wakes up, it’s to the sound of bartering, the slave market anthem, and they have his hands chained behind his back, but they’re going to need a lot more than that to keep a monster like him down. the slavers want his teeth and bones and skin all laid out for display in the most degrading fashion, but they must laden him down to the floorboards with more chains, fasten him with a mask on to keep his mouth shut. he won’t stop struggling and he won’t stop fighting; there’s no way he’d ever go quietly for these assholes. he’s hoping he’ll be problematic enough that no one will buy him, but after two or three months of blistering sundried heat in the day and beatings in pitch darkness at night, eventually someone picks up the tab, and he gets branded with a slave trade number.

that night however, before they can shove him off, he involves himself in the middle of a revolt, falls into the heat of a firefight. it’s nothing new for valluria, but this time it seems to be a prison breakout by an interstellar crew of a spaceship, and obviously he doesn’t actually care which side wins, but he has a deep-seated hatred for slavery and the men who killed his friends and captured him, so his first action once the cage is broken is to find a gun. he is the son of this shredded desert, born in the midst of battle, and you’re not truly a vallurian if you don’t know how to shoot straight.

rule four : don’t settle for scraps anymore.

“which side are you on?” asks one of the ship’s crew, after the fight is over; an older woman, scars on her face like battle trophies, her eyes cold and steady as stones. he’s pretty sure she’s ready and willing to put a bullet in him any second he says the wrong thing.

he doesn’t hesitate. “whichever side gets me the hell off this planet.”

it’s not his first step into the life of thievery, but it is what gets him onto the crew of this ship, a smuggling vessel under the control of a woman named vera, the same stone-eyed woman he’d met before. she captains the ship like an extension of herself, dictates to her crew members like an ironclad storm, and he wants to be just like her. she’s much older than she looks, and much colder too, but for all her clipped words and strong demeanor, she gives jaewon a softer patch in her soul, talks to him like he’s a person instead of a dog, recognizes the drive in him to achieve.

it’s not long before he’s learning everything there is to know about the ship, about the intergalactic system, about their codes and the alliance, what to avoid, how to conduct business. he pours himself over the interwebs, memorizing engine compartments and pilot techniques, politics and histories and diplomacies. eventually, they let him fly the ship, finding it entertaining that the youngest member of the crew seems to think himself capable of greater things than what he was raised with. he doesn’t know where his ambition will stop, but he won’t accept any limits or rules laid out for him—none except his own.

he falls in love with the stars, all his sand dunes replaced with asteroid belts, his storms with dust clouds, the heat of constant summer with the frigid emptiness of the void there’s a feeling of freedom up here, a wide openness begging to be seen, to be felt, to be experienced.

rule five : the universe owes you nothing.

the need to be unrestrained overrides the need to conform ( always has, always will ) and when the union of allied planets tries to take away the stars from him and the rest of the crew, they all sign up to fight against it. jaewon has to wait a year before he looks the part well enough to play it. he is still underage, but for a boy with no past and no family, that’s easily overcome, and even at seventeen, he knows the independents can use him. he decides that even if he dies in an unmarked grave, it will still be worth it, and maybe his ghosts will welcome him when he enters that final blackness.

of course, that ain’t exactly plan a, so he puts his experience and his impressive determination to good use, being young and fearless, something of a daredevil. right out of the gate, he proves himself qualified to run missions and handle extreme bloodshed and war; having been immune to it as a child. he trusts his instincts more than most, and survives more than most, raising through the ranks by way of recommendation as well as ascension through combat. the alliance has the upper hand in just about every battle fought, but the independents don’t make it easy for them, and that’s his rallying cry.

by the time he is twenty, he is made sergeant, and the pounds of blood on his hands only multiplies.

they lose the war of course, about a year later, and yes he is one of the few traversing through the mounds of corpses, wading through the pools of blood, in serenity valley. this valley, where the tides of the war shift forever out of their favor, this valley where defeat becomes certain, where no amount of resolve in his chest can justify the amount of deaths on his hands. this valley where hope and faith become replaced with grim reality, and he swears by every breath in his body that even though the verse itself might fall under the boot of an empire, he never will.

rule six : take control.

the armistice has his old crewmates settling down on various different planets, finding lives for themselves, picking up pieces of their pride in any solace they can uncover. and he doesn’t blame them, he doesn’t fight them on any particular point. except vera, he comes to heads against her for a minute.

“i can run the ship.” it’s pretty much been his goal since he first stepped foot on it. “if you won’t take it, let me have it.”

“jaewon, the back end is falling off. there are patched-up holes everywhere. you’re not going to take this ship anywhere except maybe the junkyard back on valluria.” she looks at him sternly. “it’s about time you figured yourself out, anyway, don’t you think?”

back to valluria. back to the planet jaewon wanted nothing more than to escape. when he thinks of his home world, he just only remembers the net collapsing around him, the stench of blood and sun and despair. he doesn’t want to figure anything out anymore. and anyway, he can’t look back, it’s against his rules. but they touch down anyway, onto a small city on a desert’s edge, and he is forced to say his goodbyes. it feels like everything is falling apart, everyone scatters to the winds, and jaewon’s chest is like a graveyard for about a month. he can feel it in his gut every waking hour; he is not supposed to be here, he doesn’t fit in here.

being back on this planet is like walking into a beartrap you already know is there. he hates it, he hates the misshapen buildings, all weird edges, the dust storms. he doesn’t see vera for a few weeks, before she finally sends him a wave, giving him the keycodes to the ship. she tells him to fly it to the nearest docking station and get whatever money he can for its pieces and parts.

as soon as he gets those codes though, he already knows what he’s going to do with them instead. he doesn’t hesitate.

the idea of letting anyone else touch the ship, pull it apart, rip out its heart and display it disgustingly for wealthier assholes to pick and choose ( insert memories of him being chained to the ground, covered in a mask while someone yells out prices for his head ) turns his stomach inside out. he’d rather crash and burn with it, than give up the one thing in the whole damn universe he’s actually come to love.

once a thief, always a thief.

coming back is like returning into his own ribcage, fitting his soul back into his body, inhaling air for the first time in what feels like forever. it’s the only place he’s managed to belong to. “miss me, baby?” he asks the long, empty corridors as he makes his way to the front piloting station, firing it up and then riding it the fuck out of there, heading off-world. he lands on a nearby moon and gives it a makeover, renaming it serenity, in honor of the lives lost in the war, the ghosts that haunt his shadow, the only chains he’ll ever allow himself to wear.

rule seven : the universe has no limits, don’t adhere to any.

[araitsume]

The Desire of Ages, pp. 154-166: Chapter (16) In His Temple

This chapter is based on John 2:12-22.

“After this He went down to Capernaum, He, and His mother, and His brethren, and His disciples: and they continued there not many days. And the Jews’ Passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.”

In this journey, Jesus joined one of the large companies that were making their way to the capital. He had not yet publicly announced His mission, and He mingled unnoticed with the throng. Upon these occasions, the coming of the Messiah, to which such prominence had been given by the ministry of John, was often the theme of conversation. The hope of national greatness was dwelt upon with kindling enthusiasm. Jesus knew that this hope was to be disappointed, for it was founded on a misinterpretation of the Scriptures. With deep earnestness He explained the prophecies, and tried to arouse the people to a closer study of God's word.

The Jewish leaders had instructed the people that at Jerusalem they were to be taught to worship God. Here during the Passover week large numbers assembled, coming from all parts of Palestine, and even from distant lands. The temple courts were filled with a promiscuous throng. Many were unable to bring with them the sacrifices that were to be offered up as typifying the one great Sacrifice. For the convenience of these, animals were bought and sold in the outer court of the temple. Here all classes of people assembled to purchase their offerings. Here all foreign money was exchanged for the coin of the sanctuary.

Every Jew was required to pay yearly a half shekel as “a ransom for his soul;” and the money thus collected was used for the support of the temple. Exodus 30:12-16. Besides this, large sums were brought as freewill offerings, to be deposited in the temple treasury. And it was required that all foreign coin should be changed for a coin called the temple shekel, which was accepted for the service of the sanctuary. The money changing gave opportunity for fraud and extortion, and it had grown into a disgraceful traffic, which was a source of revenue to the priests.

The dealers demanded exorbitant prices for the animals sold, and they shared their profits with the priests and rulers, who thus enriched themselves at the expense of the people. The worshipers had been taught to believe that if they did not offer sacrifice, the blessing of God would not rest on their children or their lands. Thus a high price for the animals could be secured; for after coming so far, the people would not return to their homes without performing the act of devotion for which they had come.

A great number of sacrifices were offered at the time of the Passover, and the sales at the temple were very large. The consequent confusion indicated a noisy cattle market rather than the sacred temple of God. There could be heard sharp bargaining, the lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep, the cooing of doves, mingled with the chinking of coin and angry disputation. So great was the confusion that the worshipers were disturbed, and the words addressed to the Most High were drowned in the uproar that invaded the temple. The Jews were exceedingly proud of their piety. They rejoiced over their temple, and regarded a word spoken in its disfavor as blasphemy; they were very rigorous in the performance of ceremonies connected with it; but the love of money had overruled their scruples. They were scarcely aware how far they had wandered from the original purpose of the service instituted by God Himself.

When the Lord descended upon Mount Sinai, the place was consecrated by His presence. Moses was commanded to put bounds around the mount and sanctify it, and the word of the Lord was heard in warning: “Take heed to yourselves, that ye go not up into the mount, or touch the border of it: whosoever toucheth the mount shall be surely put to death: there shall not an hand touch it, but he shall surely be stoned, or shot through; whether it be beast or man, it shall not live.” Exodus 19:12, 13. Thus was taught the lesson that wherever God manifests His presence, the place is holy. The precincts of God's temple should have been regarded as sacred. But in the strife for gain, all this was lost sight of.

The priests and rulers were called to be the representatives of God to the nation; they should have corrected the abuses of the temple court. They should have given to the people an example of integrity and compassion. Instead of studying their own profit, they should have considered the situation and needs of the worshipers, and should have been ready to assist those who were not able to buy the required sacrifices. But this they did not do. Avarice had hardened their hearts.

There came to this feast those who were suffering, those who were in want and distress. The blind, the lame, the deaf, were there. Some were brought on beds. Many came who were too poor to purchase the humblest offering for the Lord, too poor even to buy food with which to satisfy their own hunger. These were greatly distressed by the statements of the priests. The priests boasted of their piety; they claimed to be the guardians of the people; but they were without sympathy or compassion. The poor, the sick, the dying, made their vain plea for favor. Their suffering awakened no pity in the hearts of the priests.

As Jesus came into the temple, He took in the whole scene. He saw the unfair transactions. He saw the distress of the poor, who thought that without shedding of blood there would be no forgiveness for their sins. He saw the outer court of His temple converted into a place of unholy traffic. The sacred enclosure had become one vast exchange.

Christ saw that something must be done. Numerous ceremonies were enjoined upon the people without the proper instruction as to their import. The worshipers offered their sacrifices without understanding that they were typical of the only perfect Sacrifice. And among them, unrecognized and unhonored, stood the One symbolized by all their service. He had given directions in regard to the offerings. He understood their symbolical value, and He saw that they were now perverted and misunderstood. Spiritual worship was fast disappearing. No link bound the priests and rulers to their God. Christ's work was to establish an altogether different worship.

With searching glance, Christ takes in the scene before Him as He stands upon the steps of the temple court. With prophetic eye He looks into futurity, and sees not only years, but centuries and ages. He sees how priests and rulers will turn the needy from their right, and forbid that the gospel shall be preached to the poor. He sees how the love of God will be concealed from sinners, and men will make merchandise of His grace. As He beholds the scene, indignation, authority, and power are expressed in His countenance. The attention of the people is attracted to Him. The eyes of those engaged in their unholy traffic are riveted upon His face. They cannot withdraw their gaze. They feel that this Man reads their inmost thoughts, and discovers their hidden motives. Some attempt to conceal their faces, as if their evil deeds were written upon their countenances, to be scanned by those searching eyes.

The confusion is hushed. The sound of traffic and bargaining has ceased. The silence becomes painful. A sense of awe overpowers the assembly. It is as if they were arraigned before the tribunal of God to answer for their deeds. Looking upon Christ, they behold divinity flash through the garb of humanity. The Majesty of heaven stands as the Judge will stand at the last day,—not now encircled with the glory that will then attend Him, but with the same power to read the soul. His eye sweeps over the multitude, taking in every individual. His form seems to rise above them in commanding dignity, and a divine light illuminates His countenance. He speaks, and His clear, ringing voice—the same that upon Mount Sinai proclaimed the law that priests and rulers are transgressing—is heard echoing through the arches of the temple: “Take these things hence; make not My Father's house an house of merchandise.”

Slowly descending the steps, and raising the scourge of cords gathered up on entering the enclosure, He bids the bargaining company depart from the precincts of the temple. With a zeal and severity He has never before manifested, He overthrows the tables of the money-changers. The coin falls, ringing sharply upon the marble pavement. None presume to question His authority. None dare stop to gather up their ill-gotten gain. Jesus does not smite them with the whip of cords, but in His hand that simple scourge seems terrible as a flaming sword. Officers of the temple, speculating priests, brokers and cattle traders, with their sheep and oxen, rush from the place, with the one thought of escaping from the condemnation of His presence.

A panic sweeps over the multitude, who feel the overshadowing of His divinity. Cries of terror escape from hundreds of blanched lips. Even the disciples tremble. They are awestruck by the words and manner of Jesus, so unlike His usual demeanor. They remember that it is written of Him, “The zeal of Thine house hath eaten Me up.” Psalm 69:9. Soon the tumultuous throng with their merchandise are far removed from the temple of the Lord. The courts are free from unholy traffic, and a deep silence and solemnity settles upon the scene of confusion. The presence of the Lord, that of old sanctified the mount, has now made sacred the temple reared in His honor.

In the cleansing of the temple, Jesus was announcing His mission as the Messiah, and entering upon His work. That temple, erected for the abode of the divine Presence, was designed to be an object lesson for Israel and for the world. From eternal ages it was God's purpose that every created being, from the bright and holy seraph to man, should be a temple for the indwelling of the Creator. Because of sin, humanity ceased to be a temple for God. Darkened and defiled by evil, the heart of man no longer revealed the glory of the Divine One. But by the incarnation of the Son of God, the purpose of Heaven is fulfilled. God dwells in humanity, and through saving grace the heart of man becomes again His temple. God designed that the temple at Jerusalem should be a continual witness to the high destiny open to every soul. But the Jews had not understood the significance of the building they regarded with so much pride. They did not yield themselves as holy temples for the Divine Spirit. The courts of the temple at Jerusalem, filled with the tumult of unholy traffic, represented all too truly the temple of the heart, defiled by the presence of sensual passion and unholy thoughts. In cleansing the temple from the world's buyers and sellers, Jesus announced His mission to cleanse the heart from the defilement of sin,—from the earthly desires, the selfish lusts, the evil habits, that corrupt the soul. “The Lord, whom ye seek, shall suddenly come to His temple, even the Messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in: behold, He shall come, saith the Lord of hosts. But who may abide the day of His coming? and who shall stand when He appeareth? for He is like a refiner's fire, and like fullers’ soap: and He shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and He shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver.” Malachi 3:1-3.

“Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you? If any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the temple of God is holy, which temple ye are.” 1 Corinthians 3:16, 17. No man can of himself cast out the evil throng that have taken possession of the heart. Only Christ can cleanse the soul temple. But He will not force an entrance. He comes not into the heart as to the temple of old; but He says, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear My voice, and open the door, I will come in to him.” Revelation 3:20. He will come, not for one day merely; for He says, “I will dwell in them, and walk in them; ... and they shall be My people.” “He will subdue our iniquities; and Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.” 2 Corinthians 6:16; Micah 7:19. His presence will cleanse and sanctify the soul, so that it may be a holy temple unto the Lord, and “an habitation of God through the Spirit.” Ephesians 2:21, 22.

Overpowered with terror, the priests and rulers had fled from the temple court, and from the searching glance that read their hearts. In their flight they met others on their way to the temple, and bade them turn back, telling them what they had seen and heard. Christ looked upon the fleeing men with yearning pity for their fear, and their ignorance of what constituted true worship. In this scene He saw symbolized the dispersion of the whole Jewish nation for their wickedness and impenitence.

And why did the priests flee from the temple? Why did they not stand their ground? He who commanded them to go was a carpenter's son, a poor Galilean, without earthly rank or power. Why did they not resist Him? Why did they leave the gain so ill acquired, and flee at the command of One whose outward appearance was so humble?

Christ spoke with the authority of a king, and in His appearance, and in the tones of His voice, there was that which they had no power to resist. At the word of command they realized, as they had never realized before, their true position as hypocrites and robbers. When divinity flashed through humanity, not only did they see indignation on Christ's countenance; they realized the import of His words. They felt as if before the throne of the eternal Judge, with their sentence passed on them for time and for eternity. For a time they were convinced that Christ was a prophet; and many believed Him to be the Messiah. The Holy Spirit flashed into their minds the utterances of the prophets concerning Christ. Would they yield to this conviction?

Repent they would not. They knew that Christ's sympathy for the poor had been aroused. They knew that they had been guilty of extortion in their dealings with the people. Because Christ discerned their thoughts they hated Him. His public rebuke was humiliating to their pride, and they were jealous of His growing influence with the people. They determined to challenge Him as to the power by which He had driven them forth, and who gave Him this power.

Slowly and thoughtfully, but with hate in their hearts, they returned to the temple. But what a change had taken place during their absence! When they fled, the poor remained behind; and these were now looking to Jesus, whose countenance expressed His love and sympathy. With tears in His eyes, He said to the trembling ones around Him: Fear not; I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me. For this cause came I into the world.

The people pressed into Christ's presence with urgent, pitiful appeals: Master, bless me. His ear heard every cry. With pity exceeding that of a tender mother He bent over the suffering little ones. All received attention. Everyone was healed of whatever disease he had. The dumb opened their lips in praise; the blind beheld the face of their Restorer. The hearts of the sufferers were made glad.

As the priests and temple officials witnessed this great work, what a revelation to them were the sounds that fell on their ears! The people were relating the story of the pain they had suffered, of their disappointed hopes, of painful days and sleepless nights. When the last spark of hope seemed to be dead, Christ had healed them. The burden was so heavy, one said; but I have found a helper. He is the Christ of God, and I will devote my life to His service. Parents said to their children, He has saved your life; lift up your voice and praise Him. The voices of children and youth, fathers and mothers, friends and spectators, blended in thanksgiving and praise. Hope and gladness filled their hearts. Peace came to their minds. They were restored soul and body, and they returned home, proclaiming everywhere the matchless love of Jesus.

At the crucifixion of Christ, those who had thus been healed did not join with the rabble throng in crying, “Crucify Him, crucify Him.” Their sympathies were with Jesus; for they had felt His great sympathy and wonderful power. They knew Him to be their Saviour; for He had given them health of body and soul. They listened to the preaching of the apostles, and the entrance of God's word into their hearts gave them understanding. They became agents of God's mercy, and instruments of His salvation.

The crowd that had fled from the temple court after a time slowly drifted back. They had partially recovered from the panic that had seized them, but their faces expressed irresolution and timidity. They looked with amazement on the works of Jesus, and were convicted that in Him the prophecies concerning the Messiah were fulfilled. The sin of the desecration of the temple rested, in a great degree, upon the priests. It was by their arrangement that the court had been turned into a market place. The people were comparatively innocent. They were impressed by the divine authority of Jesus; but with them the influence of the priests and rulers was paramount. They regarded Christ's mission as an innovation, and questioned His right to interfere with what was permitted by the authorities of the temple. They were offended because the traffic had been interrupted, and they stifled the convictions of the Holy Spirit.

Above all others the priests and rulers should have seen in Jesus the anointed of the Lord; for in their hands were the sacred scrolls that described His mission, and they knew that the cleansing of the temple was a manifestation of more than human power. Much as they hated Jesus, they could not free themselves from the thought that He might be a prophet sent by God to restore the sanctity of the temple. With a deference born of this fear, they went to Him with the inquiry, “What sign showest Thou unto us, seeing that Thou doest these things?”

Jesus had shown them a sign. In flashing light into their hearts, and in doing before them the works which the Messiah was to do, He had given convincing evidence of His character. Now when they asked for a sign, He answered them by a parable, showing that He read their malice, and saw to what lengths it would lead them. “Destroy this temple,” He said, “and in three days I will raise it up.”

In these words His meaning was twofold. He referred not only to the destruction of the Jewish temple and worship, but to His own death,—the destruction of the temple of His body. This the Jews were already plotting. As the priests and rulers returned to the temple, they had proposed to kill Jesus, and thus rid themselves of the troubler. Yet when He set before them their purpose, they did not understand Him. They took His words as applying only to the temple at Jerusalem, and with indignation exclaimed, “Forty and six years was this temple in building, and wilt Thou rear it up in three days?” Now they felt that Jesus had justified their unbelief, and they were confirmed in their rejection of Him.

Christ did not design that His words should be understood by the unbelieving Jews, nor even by His disciples at this time. He knew that they would be misconstrued by His enemies, and would be turned against Him. At His trial they would be brought as an accusation, and on Calvary they would be flung at Him as a taunt. But to explain them now would give His disciples a knowledge of His sufferings, and bring upon them sorrow which as yet they were not able to bear. And an explanation would prematurely disclose to the Jews the result of their prejudice and unbelief. Already they had entered upon a path which they would steadily pursue until He should be led as a lamb to the slaughter.

It was for the sake of those who should believe on Him that these words of Christ were spoken. He knew that they would be repeated. Being spoken at the Passover, they would come to the ears of thousands, and be carried to all parts of the world. After He had risen from the dead, their meaning would be made plain. To many they would be conclusive evidence of His divinity.

Because of their spiritual darkness, even the disciples of Jesus often failed of comprehending His lessons. But many of these lessons were made plain to them by subsequent events. When He walked no more with them, His words were a stay to their hearts.

As referring to the temple at Jerusalem, the Saviour's words, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up,” had a deeper meaning than the hearers perceived. Christ was the foundation and life of the temple. Its services were typical of the sacrifice of the Son of God. The priesthood was established to represent the mediatorial character and work of Christ. The entire plan of sacrificial worship was a foreshadowing of the Saviour's death to redeem the world. There would be no efficacy in these offerings when the great event toward which they had pointed for ages was consummated.

Since the whole ritual economy was symbolical of Christ, it had no value apart from Him. When the Jews sealed their rejection of Christ by delivering Him to death, they rejected all that gave significance to the temple and its services. Its sacredness had departed. It was doomed to destruction. From that day sacrificial offerings and the service connected with them were meaningless. Like the offering of Cain, they did not express faith in the Saviour. In putting Christ to death, the Jews virtually destroyed their temple. When Christ was crucified, the inner veil of the temple was rent in twain from top to bottom, signifying that the great final sacrifice had been made, and that the system of sacrificial offerings was forever at an end.

“In three days I will raise it up.” In the Saviour's death the powers of darkness seemed to prevail, and they exulted in their victory. But from the rent sepulcher of Joseph, Jesus came forth a conqueror. “Having spoiled principalities and powers, He made a show of them openly, triumphing over them.” Colossians 2:15. By virtue of His death and resurrection He became the minister of the “true tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man.” Hebrews 8:2. Men reared the Jewish tabernacle; men builded the Jewish temple; but the sanctuary above, of which the earthly was a type, was built by no human architect. “Behold the Man whose name is The Branch; ... He shall build the temple of the Lord; and He shall bear the glory, and shall sit and rule upon His throne; and He shall be a priest upon His throne.” Zechariah 6:12, 13.

The sacrificial service that had pointed to Christ passed away; but the eyes of men were turned to the true sacrifice for the sins of the world. The earthly priesthood ceased; but we look to Jesus, the minister of the new covenant, and “to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel.” “The way into the holiest of all was not yet made manifest, while as the first tabernacle was yet standing: ... but Christ being come an high priest of good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, ... by His own blood He entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.” Hebrews 12:24; 9:8-12.

“Wherefore He is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them.” Hebrews 7:25. Though the ministration was to be removed from the earthly to the heavenly temple; though the sanctuary and our great high priest would be invisible to human sight, yet the disciples were to suffer no loss thereby. They would realize no break in their communion, and no diminution of power because of the Saviour's absence. While Jesus ministers in the sanctuary above, He is still by His Spirit the minister of the church on earth. He is withdrawn from the eye of sense, but His parting promise is fulfilled, “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” Matthew 28:20. While He delegates His power to inferior ministers, His energizing presence is still with His church.

“Seeing then that we have a great high priest, ... Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” Hebrews 4:14-16.