#TRINE MY ROMAN EMPIRE

[strangerhands]

OHMYGODOHKYGODOHMYGODOHNYGODOUHJTGOFOUKMGUODHDIOFHDKFNFNOHYMOFGGFKFNDJWYSKFHOHMYGOFOGHMFYOFHGKFOFUFNDKOUNKYIOFGFOHMYFUCKINGGOD FEN IM SCREAMING AND CREAMING AND RIPPING MY SHEETS APART HOLY SHIT HOLY FUCKING SHIT THE GASP I GUSPED UPON SEEING THIS IM GONNA EAT MY WALLS OHMYGOD IM GONNA BREAK MY FACE THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE YES LETS FUCKING GO BABY

*resisting the urge to copy and paste and react to every single fucking line there is because everything is too incredible*

OHMYFUCKINGGOD FEN. FEN. FEN FEN FEN. FEN. FENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN. I AM SO INSANE OVER THEM GRHRJABFBBWJFBSHFBSJDDHDHDBG THIS WAS SO SO SO FUCKING GOOD AND HOT AND SEXY AND DELICIOUS AND SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT NMGNGBSHFBDKGBFEBFN FUCKKKKKK. i. i. i. iiiiii. i bow down to you. i am kneeling on the floor for you. i thank you. i owe you. my life. i will die for you. bless you fen. you are a master at your craft. thank you. thank you. thank you.

i literally teared up at this because of how insane and feral trine makes me. i am so dead serious. the visceral reactions this series pulls from me are no fucking joke. i really cant even just react to one single line right now because this whole reblog would just be me pasting out this entire fic and screaming about EVERYTHING.

thinking about AnselemxReaderxBlue where the reader wakes up to Anselem spooning baby Blue n playing with him while they wait for her to wake 👀 I can’t decide if she’d love watching them rock into each other or punish them for getting started without her

I am so sorry this took so long and also I got a bit carried away...

Trine [4]

Anselm Vogelweide X Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Part One • Trine Masterlist • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Warnings: errrrrrrr, reader is married to Anselm, Anselm refers to reader as ‘my love’, Blue being such a sub, begging, teasing, edging, dacryphilia - a bit, p in v sex, hand jobs, spanking, anal fingering, cream pies, oral (f receiving), there's the smallest bit of german in here, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2490

________________________________

Blue whimpers weakly, pressing his face into the pillow to try to quieten the moans that catch in his throat. 

Anselm growls softly behind him, his chest pressed against his back and nipping lightly at his earlobe before sucking hard at his neck. Blue sobs, his spine bowing as Anselm’s hand keeps fisting his cock, speeding up and then slowing down the second Blue tries to chase his high. 

“Aww, my kleine blau,” Anselm whispers, chuckling in his ear and Blue whines desperately. “So loud. Do you want to wake my wife, hmm? Think she’ll take pity on you do you?” He presses his free hand against Blue’s forehead and pulls him back, exposing his neck even more. “She won’t.” He hisses and bites again at his ear. 

Blue squirms, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. “Please, Anselm, please.” 

“Aww, you beg so prettily, my love.” Anselm’s hand rapidly increases for a moment before he slows painfully. “Why would I ever want to give you what you want when you sound and look so sweet like this?” 

A sob of frustration leaves Blue’s lips, forgetting momentarily that you are sleeping next to him. You stir a little at the sound, still feeling the warm pull of slumber and ache in your muscles from the previous evening's activities. 

Anselm stoves two fingers into Blue’s mouth and rapidly increases the movement of his wrist, purposefully making the slap, slap, slap of skin echo louder around the room and Blue’s choked whines more pitiful. 

He bites down hard on Blue’s neck, intentionally pulling a sharp muffled sob from his throat. 

Anselm’s eyes, dark and predatory, are glued to yours as you wake fully and take in the scene before you. 

Blue gazes imploringly, reaching his hands out for you needily. But Anselm quickly removes his fingers from his mouth and pins Blue’s arms to his chest. 

“Naughty, naughty,” he hisses just before he licks a hot stripe up Blue’s neck.  He looks back to you and smiles sweetly, “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?” 

Blue cries out desperately. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I did. Did you sleep at all, or have you been torturing Blue the whole night?” 

Anselm grins wickedly. “Only for the last, oh… thirty minutes or so.” 

Blue sobs, arching his back and trying to buck his hips to meet Anselm’s hand. “Please,” he looks to you with tears in his eyes, his bottom lip between his teeth. And you can’t help but smile. 

You shift a little towards him and lean forward just enough to lightly brush your lips against his. 

Blue lets out another sweet whimper. His lips are hot and wet from where he keeps biting them. He darts his tongue out, briefly licking into your mouth as he opens his, retreating back and urging you to follow. 

You growl, grabbing hold of his cheeks and stroking his skin as you slip your tongue past his lips and kiss him deeply. He tries to push himself against you, straining against Anselm’s tight hold while his hips still buck desperately to reach his high. 

He wants to sink into the sensations, melt between the both of you and become liquid in your hands. 

Anselm stops his movements altogether, squeezing the base of Blue’s cock firmly. He can’t take it anymore and sobs loudly, tears in the corners of his eyes and slipping out from the constant edging. He breaks the kiss with you pitifully, biting his lip and shuddering. 

“You’re being mean,” you say playfully, swatting Anselm’s arm lightly while you stroke Blue’s cheeks. Acting as if his tears didn’t send heat racing downwards. 

“Am I, my love?” He grins wickedly despite the faux innocence in his voice. 

“Very.” You smile back. 

“You’d spoil him if he was all yours, you know?” He chuckles, enjoying how Blue squirms in his arms when he’s being ignored like this, how his breathing increases. 

“Oh, would I?” You lean forward and kiss Anselm lightly, barely a touch of your lips. 

He groans and grabs hold of the back of your neck, keeping you in place so that he can lick into your mouth as he pleases. His grip is firm, warm and sure as he steals the breath from your lungs. 

Blue places a light kiss to your neck, nuzzling into your skin for a moment before whining loudly as Anselm squeezes his cock firmly once more. He breaks the kiss but keeps his hand on the back of your neck as he tuts at Blue. 

“Naughty naughty, trying to get on her good side.” He kisses you again, swiping his tongue over yours. “My love, he deserves to be punished.” 

You chuckle and Blue pouts and whines. “Anselm,” but you barely get the word out before he kisses you deeply. 

“I should tie him to the bed and fuck you on top of him until he’s sorry.” 

Blue squirms, shaking his head rapidly and practically sobbing. Panic gripping his chest at the idea he’s upset Anselm that much. 

You stroke his cheeks, seeing the distress on his face. You kiss his forehead. “It’s just play.” Anselm quickly nuzzles Blue’s neck, sucking a love bite onto his pulse point. “My sweet little thing,” he hushes in Blue’s ear. “So good for me, for us.” He places another quick kiss to his cheek before moving back and leaning over so he can rummage in his bedside table and pulls out a bottom of lube. 

Blue nestles into you, kissing along your jaw, one hand on your hip while the other squeezes your breast.

“Please,” he mutters against your skin, so desperate and horny he can’t even think straight. “Please, can I?” He slides his hand under your soft thigh and hitches your leg over his, nudging the thick head of his weeping cock at your entrance. 

He hisses, his eyes rolling back in his head when he feels how wet you are. How his tip glides through your stick folds. “You like this?” He mutters desperately, “like seeing me so desperate?” He bites his lip, trying to stop the shallow thrusts of his hips, trying not to sink inside your tight, wet heat. 

“I do.” You whisper, running your nails along his scalp and he shudders, gasping. 

“Please,” he groans, his eyelids fluttering in an effort to keep them open. “Please, need you both to use me. Need to come with you both.” 

"So, eager to please mein Süßer.” Anselm kneels over you both, pushing lightly between Blue’s shoulder blades so he turns, pushing you onto your back and him on top of you. 

Anselm smacks his ass once and Blue yelps in surprise more than pain, pouting. 

You can’t suppress your giggle. 

“You can’t help yourself,” Anselm tuts, “I move away for eine Minute and you’re already begging to get balls deep in my wife.” 

Blue squirms. “I-”

Anselm cuts him off with two sharp slaps to each ass cheek that has Blue wailing and biting his lip. The pain spreads deliciously up his spine, settling in the base of his cock. The weight of it is almost too much to bear. 

Anselm nods his head to you, and you smile. “Legs up, my love.” He asks softly, and you do as he requests, wrapping your legs around Blue and crossing your ankles over the small of his back. 

Anselm is the one that grabs Blue’s leaking cock and lines him up with your aching pussy. He pushes on Blue’s ass to guide him inside, holding his hip to stop him from thrusting in too quickly. 

Blue whines as he follows Anselm’s directions perfectly, gazing down at you with lust drunk eyes. “Thank you, thank you, oh god, thank you,” falls out of his mouth with every sweet inch that plunges deeper, squeezing him so tight and making him lightheaded. “You feel so good, I’m-” His breath hitches, “I’m gonna cum, I’m sorry, I’m-”

Anselm smacks his ass hard again, his skin reddening quickly. The jolt forces him in the last few centimetres, presses him flush against you and he groans loudly. 

The stretch has you tensing, arching up towards him as he presses deliriously deep, rubbing perfectly against the source of your ache. 

“You’re not going to cum just yet,” Anselm pats the handprint he’s left on Blue’s skin, and Blue nods rapidly, eyes screwed tight as he tries to get a hold of himself. 

Anselm gazes down at you, leaning forward for a second to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “You okay, my love?” 

You nod and swallow, hardly able to form words with the onslaught of sensation. The tip of Blue’s cock is nudging at your sweet spot, practically vibrating with how he’s shaking. 

“We didn’t play with you beforehand,” he says sweetly in your ear, half in genuine concern, the other just an excuse to rile you up even more. 

“It’s good.” You breathe. “He’s…” you gasp as Blue wriggles ever so slightly. 

“He’s in exactly the right position,” Anselm nods as he speaks and sits up. “Good. Hear that Blue?” He smacks his ass one more time. The force sends a jolt through his limbs and both you and Blue moan headily at how you move together. 

Anselm smiles, “So, you heard her Blue.” 

He nods rapidly. 

“Perfect spot. So no moving.” He pushes Blue’s ass firmly down. “Not even a centimetre out, understand?” 

Blue nods again. 

Anselm flicks open the bottle of lube and coats his middle and forefinger liberally. “I’m going to move you.” 

Blue frowns for a moment in confusion, about to ask what he means. But his words are cut off by a gasp as Anselm presses his fingers against Blue’s entrance. He shivers, whines in surprise and for a second you worry. Your walls involuntarily clenching down on him. 

“Wait-” You start.

“Plleeaaasssee,” Blue begs, tears running down his cheeks. “Oh fuck, please, just, just get up there, get inside, get-” he moans so loudly it’s almost a scream as Anselm presses in deep, pushing past his tight drink of muscle and strokes deep. 

Blue shakes, trembling with sensation as Anselm’s fingers press and your cunt squeezes. Pleasure explodes behind his eyes, runs along his limbs as Anselm pushes, rocks him against you as if he were a puppet completely under Anselm’s control. 

You gasp, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he moves, rocking his hips against you at a mind-numbing pace that has you seeing stars. 

Blue shrieks as Anselm finds his prostate, his orgasm exploding along every nerve and tensing his muscles. He sobs as he comes, his hips moving of their own accord as he floats above his body in bliss. He pumps load after load of hot, thick cum into you, his body running on autopilot as he collapses on top of you. 

Anselm slowly removes his fingers and kisses his shoulders as you kiss his temple. You both hug him for a moment, whispering soothing words as he stays boneless before you both help him up and onto his back on the pillows. 

Anselm licks up the mess on his cock  before he takes hold of your hips and presses you back against the mattress. 

“Such a lovely mess.” He mutters, fisting his own cock for a second before he sinks into you and groans. “Ah, has made you so,” he growls, snapping his hips hard and fast, “needy,” you whine underneath him as he sits up, changing the angle so he can fuck into you rapidly. “So wet, and warm,” he snarls, sweat beading on his temples. 

He places his hand on your chest, between your breasts and keeps you pinned flat to the bed. 

You whine against him, your body hurtling you towards your orgasm as he takes and takes and takes. The way his hips move, the deep, precise thrusts he has memorised, ingrained into his very fibre of being to make you see stars. 

The slap, slap, slap of his thick cock against you, the way he pulls out almost completely before slamming back in breaks Blue from his daze. His cock twitches despite his mind-shattering orgasm a moment before. 

He groans watching, shuffles forward and kisses you sweetly, the action so soft and sweet it almost breaks you in two. 

“Here,” Anselm groans, strain in his voice well covered by his affection for you both. He gently but firmly guides Blue’s head away from you and presses him towards your centre. “Put your mouth to better use.” 

Your cry is sharp, almost alien to your own ears as Blue’s tongue darts out and flicks against your clit as Anselm thrusts against your g spot repeatedly. 

You squirm under both of them, both trying to get closer but also shy away from the pleasure. 

Blue latches onto your clit, moaning as he sucks, his eyes rolling back into his head. Anselm groans as you pulse around him, he keeps a steady hand on the back of Blue’s head and grabs your tight, hiking it high on his hip. Your breathing hitches and he knows you’re close. 

“Take me so well, my love,” he groans, bowing forward ever so slightly as you squeeze around him, your body sucking him deep and fighting to keep him inside. “Made for me, made for us.” 

Blue moans in agreement, looking at you with large, heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Cum on my cock, want to feel you come apart and scream.” 

You whine, so close you can taste it. 

“Want you to-” Anselm groans suddenly as Blue snakes his hand up his thigh, squeezes his ass before dipping lower and cupping his balls. He massages them in the warmth of his palm and Anselm’s vision goes white. 

You gasp as Blue mewls against you, lapping at your clit and gazing up at you, knowing exactly what he's doing. 

Anselm thrusts deeply, the knot in his stomach clenching, his balls tightening and you throw your head back as you come. Your orgasm robbing you of your strength. 

Anselm comes a second later, groaning as your walls squeeze and pulsate and pull him down with you. He bucks shallowly as he fills you to the brim and mixes with the mess Blue made. 

Blue keeps sucking your clit until you stop shaking and your muscles relax. He slowly removes his mouth from you, his hand from Anselm and moves to sit up. 

But you wrap an arm around his neck and pull him down neck to you kissing his cheeks and nose and lips until he’s giggling and snuggling into your side.

You use your other arm to pull Anselm down on top of you, kiss his temple, his scars, nuzzle into his beard and nip at his bottom lip. 

He sighs into your embrace, presses his face into your neck and breathes deeply while he hugs both of you tightly. 

____________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

what in your to write box/diffrently sane oc box ?

Let's take a look...

So, I did have an idea for another Transformers fic, a more traditional isakei taking place in the Golden Age of Cybertron. Essentially, the MC is forged as a High Caste seeker, but since they originate as a human, their spark has trouble fully sticking to their new frame due to integration issues. Because of this, they are deemed defective and thrown out to die via natural causes/neglect, since directly killing a newspark goes against protocol regardless of their issues. Where do they end up? Kaon. Proceed to grow into a scrappy little street rat, runs a small child mafia, and is pseudo-adopted by the local adults. Grows up, the war happens, fake their death, turns up on Earth as a neutral pointing out issues to both side's politics, all while possessing some very important information about a potential colony and discovering, *le gasp* they were actually originally part of a trine! Just picture a very fancy-looking individual having the roughest accent and a sailor's tongue, I love it. The spark issues are chronic, but the attitude is iconic.

“Ey ya, Shrieker, whats got your pipes in a twist?  “You're a seeker!” "Ya got a point?" "Oh, I get it, you're a Helix forged ruffian." "Kaon scrap actually, spark plug, and don’t you ever forget it. Now, is there a reason besides, them wings you think I’d ever agree with whatever the frag is coming from your intake?" "You insolent little-" "Hehehe, you're cute when you're mad." "Cute?!?!?" "Cute as an insecticon’s slag."

I have an "Earth is a Planet of Sparklings" angsty and fluff version... I think I would do fluff? I actually have that mostly written already... mmmm should probably post that soon

Maybe write my own version of Megatron actually has no control over the Terracons, at best the DE contamination just marked him as "one of us" but he succeeded in bringing Cybertron's dead to Earth, and now must deal with the consequences. But that's mostly an abstract concept in my head at the moment.

A Papa!Unicron long fic, is also just an abstract concept at the moment. But June Darby is The Chosen One.

I had an idea that Optimus wasn't the 13th Prime, but that actually went to a forgotten precursor that Shockwave accidentally ended up cloning/summoning. In the primes we have the precursors of minicons, beast-formers, etc.. why not have a sparkeater thrown in the mix?

The primes had been created for one purpose, to war against the Unmaker, the desecrator, the destructor. Their later role as guides, creators, and embodiments of Primus’ will, came later. A substitutionary purpose in peacetime, one that failed to curb their battle-born sparks. Of course, the truth doesn’t sound as noble as the stories, not even to the Primes themselves. So when the tales were spun, when the sculptures were made and tombs engraved, bits of fact were replaced with fiction. The Thirtieth was made for war, it was etched in every circuit of her being. Neomenia Prime was the youngest simply because an end first required a beginning.

Falling back into Of Timelines & Trolleys for a moment, I had an idea of doing a short prequel focusing on the voices. Featuring Marc, a Gaul from the Roman Empire, and one Elijah Moore.

The Voices speak. They speak again and again, they weep, and scream, and sing, and they speak again and again. They do not know if they are heard. They can not stop to ask, they cannot think to question. They only know, and what they know they speak. But a voice was first a breath. A breath that plucked its way through a throat, that had turned through lungs, that had seeped through teeth. A voice was once a breath, and breaths come from the living. From people. And the Voices were no different. Their breath-holders are gone, and their words are the last, but they once belonged to living tongues and awake minds. The Voices are an echo. A gift. A warning. Would you care to see the bodies that first held that breath? Would you like to meet those faces that cannot speak? It has been so long since someone has bothered to listen. No one bothers to hear. But perhaps you can see.

And then there was an idea with an OC that could probably fit into my I See You fic. Observer is basically an entity that represents the viewers, and the characters are slowly gaining an awareness of them;

"Oh, didn’t you realize? I watch this world, I roam, I seek, but I do not join. Because my dear ones, I am above you. You are my entertainment, so please, fight, scream, cry, because I’ll never be satisfied"

I still want to finish that platonic yandere dragon DFO mha fic... it's a bucket list at this point.

[reikiajakoiranruohoja]

Artist rant: Learn time scales

There is one trend found in writing and art in general, which annoys the heck out of me. Enough that I do not consider this something stylistic, it is just a really bad trend.

It is the habit of assigning thousands of years between events, but never really considering just how long that is and if it is the right amount the author actually wants.

As an example, since TDC is my current hyper fixation, the skeksis empire is nearly a thousand trine (years) old. Yet, the way it is written in older and newer media of the setting, a couple of hundred trine is more accurate. The gelfling cultures still hold pre-skeksis cultural traditions and language and there is a massive void between the birth of the empire and its fall the setting never addresses or acknowledges. A thousand years ago, the Roman Empire had only recently fallen, Christianity was starting to gain a true foothold and the languages spoken were vastly different from ours. To put the TDC situation into perspective it would be like if we still feared Vikings coming and raiding local monasteries and the language of the world was still Latin.

What is interesting in this trend is that anything more recent gets treated with the right amount of difference. A witch from the pilgrim times arriving at our modern day is utterly confused. Yet a thousand years in a medieval setting is treated as a drop in the bucket.

I feel it would be a good practice for any writer to look at the amount of development happening in our world during the amount of time they want to have elapsed. Or working backwards by looking at how much development they want to have happened over the years.

Of course, there are times when the time abyss makes sense. For example, in Steven Universe, thousands of years can pass and the gems can stay the same. The point of this is, that it is not the world that stays the same, but the immortal creatures who need nothing but sunlight to live.

This is not a call for realism, far from it. I just think it is important to consider how much time you want to have lapsed, without creating a situation where nothing happens for hundreds of years.

[romancatholicreflections]

4th June >> Sunday Homilies & Reflections for Roman Catholics on Pentecost Sunday.

Pentecost Sunday Year A Gospel text : John 20:19-23 vs.19 In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, “Peace be with you,” vs.20 and showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy when they saw the Lord, vs.21 and he said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.” vs.22 After saying this he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. vs.23 For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained.” ****************************************** We have four sets of homily notes to choose from. Please scroll down the page for the desired one. Michel DeVerteuil : A Trinidadian Holy Ghost priest, Specialist in Lectio Divina Thomas O’Loughlin: Professor of Historical Theology, University of Wales. Lampeter. John Littleton: Director of the Priory Institute Distant Learning, Tallaght Donal Neary SJ: Editor of The Sacred Heart Messenger ******************************************************* Michel de Verteuil Lectio Divina with the Sunday Gospels – Year A www.columba.ie General comments The Mass of Pentecost has two accounts of the sending of the Holy Spirit, one from the Acts and one from St John’s gospel. Don’t combine the two accounts in your meditation. Each in its own way is true, in the sense that it helps us recognise moments when God sent his Spirit into us, as individuals or as a community. Sometimes it happens in extraordinary ways, and at other times it happens in quite ordinary ways. I am inviting you to meditate on the gospel account. It is less spectacular than the one in the Acts, but no less true. – In verse 19 imagine well how the disciples felt as they gathered in the room on that Easter Sunday evening; you will feel then the drama of Jesus’ entry. Read it as a sending of the Spirit. – In order to interpret verse 20 let your memories explain for you the meaning of Jesus’ showing his hands and his side. – Verse 21 has very little for the imagination, so you must make an effort to enter into it. It speaks of two sendings: – Jesus sent by the Father, which we know from the New Testament ;- we sent by Jesus, which we know from experience. Let the two shed light on each other. – Read verse 22 by itself, entering into the symbolism of Jesus’ breathing on the disciples. – Verse 23 in our Church tradition evokes memories of the sacrament of reconciliation. You might like to remember other times when we have forgiven or retained one anther’s sins. Prayer Reflection Lord, we celebrate today our personal Pentecosts: we were going through a difficult time – – a relationship had broken down; – a movement we had given ourselves to disintegrated because of internal conflicts; – our prayer life was totally dry. We turned in on ourselves, afraid to meet others lest we had to relate with them. Then quite suddenly something happened: – friends came and shared their journey with us; – we went on a retreat and had a deep sense of being loved; – we were invited to join a group who shared our values. It was as if Jesus had come through the closed doors of the room we were in, stood with us and said, “Peace be with you.” “The moment we cease to hold each other, the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.”….James Baldwin Lord, humanity today is deeply divided. Groups of people have cut themselves off, afraid to mix with others lest they lose their identity. Send us people like Jesus who will pass through the locked doors, stand among others, share their own humanity, and say “Peace be with you.” “Why can’t Christians see the poor wounded part inside themselves? Can they not see Jesus there?”…..Carl Jung Lord, we spend so much energy denying our hurts, hiding the marks of the nails in our hands and the deep wounds in our sides. Give us the grace to look with compassion at the truth of ourselves, like the disciples letting Jesus show them his hands and his side, so that we may be at peace. “It is not as if we had a high priest who was incapable of feeling our weaknesses with us; but we have one who has been tempted in every way that we are, though he is without sin.” ….Hebrews 4:15 Lord, you sent your Son Jesus as one of us. He shared the weaknesses of the human condition, he knew uncertainty and anxiety about the future, he was limited to living in one culture and in one period of history. Help us, Lord, to accept that as you sent Jesus so he sent us. Lord, the modern world knows many ways of influencing others: – advertising; – the power of weapons; – aggressive argumentation which forces others to agree. Forgive us, Lord, that we followers of Jesus use these methods in preaching his message. Teach us to trust in his power – love, gentle as breath, the kind that leaves others free and creative, and comes from the very depths of our selves. One day St Catherine of Siena had a strange experience: Jesus came to her and removed her physical heart saying: “I am giving you my heart so that you can go on living with it forever.” Lord, lead us to deep union with your Son Jesus, let him breathe into us, so that when we breathe he is breathing in us, and when we love, he is loving in us. Lord, we remember with gratitude the times when a priest of the Church forgave our sins and we knew that they were forgiven. Lord, we remember parts of the world that are torn by civil strife – the Middle East, Northern Ireland, Sudan. So many sins of the past are being retained because they are retaining them. We pray that they may forgive one another and so their sins may be truly forgiven. ******************************* Thomas O’Loughlin Liturgical Resources for the Year of Matthew www.columba.ie Introduction: Vigil Mass Today, most unusually, the Missal supplies a ‘Mass for the Vigil’ of the feast, and a ‘Mass for the Day’ of the feast, each with its own readings and prayers. This vigil Mass is understood as the vigil in preparation for the day, and so it assumes that those who take part in it, will also take part in the Mass during the day, ‘when the day of Pentecost [has] come’ (Acts 2:1). However, in most communities where there is a Saturday evening ‘vigil Mass/ this is not understood as the beginning of a real vigil which would end on the day with another celebration, but it is the Sunday’s Mass anticipated for the convenience of the assem­bly- Hence, those people who participate in the Saturday evening Mass in lieu of a celebration on Sunday morning will not hear the basic Pentecost readings nor experience the basic liturgy of this feast, if the Mass of the vigil is used on Saturday evening. Since that Saturday is really just ‘Sunday early,’ it is best to use the Mass of the day and its readings on Saturday evening — and leave the formal Mass of the vigil for those occasions when a real vigil (the Eucharist followed by the Liturgy of the Hours and concluding on the day) is being celebrated. Introduction:Day’s Mass Today we are celebrating a feast that was celebrated by many of the Jews who lived at the time of Jesus. Many of his early follow­ers continued to celebrate it after the resurrection, and so it be­came part of the annual celebrations of all Christians. However, over the first few decades of the church, this feast took on a new meaning: Jesus has risen and ascended to the Father, but he promised us his Spirit. So today we rejoice that the Spirit is moving in each of our hearts making us a people, inspiring us to understand the mystery of our faith, and strengthening us to fol­low Jesus the Anointed One. Homily notes The focus of Pentecost for Christians is as a celebration of, and a thanksgiving for, the presence and focus of the Spirit in our lives as Christians. The Spirit is the one who brings unity – unity with one another and with Christ, and so the church is ‘his’ work. Today is a thanksgiving for this gift, member- ship of the church, which we profess in the recitation of the Creed: ‘we believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church’. Significantly, it is this gift of belonging to the People that made Christianity so attractive in the early centuries of its life where the emphasis was not on a set of peculiar doctrines which were shared by a group (e.g. the eastern mystery cults), but on belonging to a new community which had doc­trines peculiar to it. We see this concern with belonging to the church in one of the simplest creeds that has survived from that time: ‘I believe in God, the almighty Father and in his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Spirit and in the resurrection of the flesh in the holy catholic church,’ Belonging to this universal (i.e. catholic) group that cut across social, ethnic, linguistic, and political boundaries was central to their self-understanding and was the ongoing work of the Spirit. Luke wants us to use a festival fifty days after our Passover to recall the fundamental belief that the presence of God,the Spirit, dwells within and activates the church how does he imagine that presence? It is with this question we should look at his carefully crafted story in Acts 2. The Spirit is the one who gathers us – all the different ‘nations’1 are brought into contact with one another. Then the Spirit unites them into one church gathered around Jesus – so the followers of Jesus everywhere are linked through the apostles. The Spirit then inspires them and sends them forth to be the witnesses to Jesus to the ends of the earth. As Luke writes he has in mind the many individual churches where his work will be read and wants to ensure that each individual church recognises itself as a node in a great web that stretches not only across the empire (the oikumene) – ‘visitors from Rome’ – but even beyond its borders (Parthians and Medes) and so is universal. 3. We tend to think of ‘the church’ firstly as the worldwide in­stitution and then of the local church as only ‘the local office’. Hence we have tremendous concern with making sure that everything is the same universally – just look at the old argu­ments for a single liturgy in Latin or the present arguments over translations. This attitude blinds us to much of Luke’s ecclesiology. He did not see unity as a unitary glut: but rather that the gospel could adapt itself to each nation – hence they did not hear the message in the lingua franca (in which he himself wrote) but in their own tongues. Unity between the churches is a gift of the Spirit, not a function of uniformity of practice. This reflected the real situation in which Luke wrote, where Christianity was already present (and this is pointed out in Acts) in, at least, four major linguistic areas; Greek (Asia and eastern Europe) and so Latin, Syriac (the spread of Christianity eastwards from Palestine), and the vernaculars of Egypt/the Nile valley. He assumed that they would each be different but would be bonded together not only by common rituals and books, but by a vision of themselves that was larger than their own Eucharistic group, region, nation, or any political boundary. While they would live and act locallyy. they would think globally, and so testify that the new covenant meant Christ through them was offering his risen life to every human. ******************************************* John Litteton Journeying through the Year of Matthew www.Columba.ie Gospel Reflection Gospel reading (Vigil): John 7:37-39 & Gospel reading (Mass during the Day): John 20:19-23 Jesus did not abandon his apostles, even when departing from this world to return to his Father in heaven. .Ten days later, at Pentecost one of his most significant promises – the promise to send the Holy Spirit in abundance on them – was extraordinarily realised. After Pentecost the apostles were never again the same. The outpouring of the Holy Spirit impacted dramatically on their convictions and on their enthusiasm to carry out Jesus’ wishes. The effects were immediately noticeable to the watching and listening crowds. The apostles were filled with the Holy Spirit and given the gift of speech. As they spoke, their listeners – many of whom were foreigners – could hear and understand them in their own languages. The apostles now acted as members of a united and committed community. Although Christ had established the Church while still on earth, at Pentecost it became manifest in the world for the first time. It became obvious that God was working powerfully through the Church. At Pentecost the Church earnestly began its mission to the whole world. This mission centres on preaching about the saving name of Jesus and about the wonders of God. God’s greatest wonder is that, through the suffering and death of Jesus the Messiah, people are saved from the consequences of their sins: alienation from God. Jesus’ fundamental promise to his apostles was that they would never be without his presence and his help. He knew that they would be unable to contribute successfully to the universal mission that he had given them unless he sent the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit would bring courage to his disciples, and restore unity and harmony between people. There is evidence of this in John’s Gospel when Jesus, after rising from the dead, said to his apostles: ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained’ (Jn 20:22-23). Significantly, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the Church at its beginning corresponds to the earlier coming of the Holy Spirit on Jesus at the beginning of his public ministry when he was baptised in the River Jordan. In the same way that Jesus was always accompanied and guided by the Holy Spirit during his earthly life, so too is his Church as it brings repentant sinners to him. Repentance is necessary for salvation. The feast of Pentecost celebrates a promise realised. It acknowledges that the Holy Spirit is at the heart of the Church’s life. Because that is so, the Church cannot ultimately fail in its task of witnessing to Jesus’ death and resurrection. It will eventually succeed in communicating the message of God’s salvation to everyone in the world. The sacrament of confirmation, which celebrates the outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our lives and is the sealing of the graces, given in baptism, is our personal Pentecost experience when we are transformed into witnesses to the teaching and example of Jesus and his Church. We willingly take on the responsibility to share our Catholic faith with others. The Feast of Pentecost is a wonderful celebration of the missionary Church. Let us reflect on our missionary efforts in our homes, schools and workplaces. How are we willing to demonstrate that we are serious about our confirmation (Pentecost) responsibilities? In what ways do we explain the authentic teaching of the Church? How do we experience Pentecost as a promise realised in our lives, leading us to make the urgency of the gospel message of salvation a reality for everyone we meet? For meditation As the Father sent me, so am I sending you. (Jn 20:21) ******************************************** Fr Donal Neary, S.J Gospel Reflections for the Year of Matthew www.messenger.ie Spirit Alive Someone dies and we say he kept his spirit alive to the end; or we say that ‘his spirit lives on’. A word we talk of easily. It’s something elusive, you can’t pin it down. It comes from somewhere. Maybe from parents, a spirit of endurance or being able to make it through tough time; or from our prayer and faith. We talk of good team spirit, or of a person who kept joyful and courageous to the end. Today is the feast of the Spirit of God, alive, active and joyful. The flame of the Spirit of love is the flame of God. The tongues of fire over the apostles and the followers of Jesus were flames of love, the Spirit of God that would burn on the inside forever. Pentecost is the flame of God’s own love, given to his followers to mark the birth of the community, the body of Jesus, the church. It is the spirit of forgiveness always, a gift of the first Pentecost. Did this blow in our own country during the visit of the British queen, when the Good Friday Agreement and other peace agreements were Signed, when the call came for a new reconciliation among people hurt badly in the times of the troubles? Compassion, mercy, forgiveness and a hope for justice for all are gifts we ask from the Spirit who blows among us strongly today. On each inbreath, pray ‘Come, Holy Spirit’. Holy Spirit, live in me and in all of us as you lived in Mary and the apostles.