#The Master's Seminary

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Jesse Johnson | As US embassies around the world wave the Pride flag, there is no denying that LGBTQ has become the American culture’s center of gravity. Twenty years ago, the main American religion was prosperity. Now it is the LGBTQ movement...

[waitingforminjae]

my therapist was so cool 😭 truly lived a long and full life ❤️

[marvel-mistress-padawan]

I have SO MUCH homework this weekend! That’s not really a bad thing. This is a good distraction from my depression that I have been struggling with all week.

[k12academics]

Louisville Seminary is one of 10 theological schools of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). In addition, the United Methodist denomination officially recognizes the Seminary as an appropriate school for its candidates to receive their theological education. Louisville Seminary warmly welcomes individuals from the wider ecumenical community as well.

The four degrees for which Louisville Seminary is accredited are:

Master of Divinity (MDiv) (CIP 390602)

Master of Arts in Religion (MAR) (CIP 390601)

Master of Arts in Marriage and Family Therapy (MAMFT) (CIP 51.1505)

Doctor of Ministry (DMin) (CIP 390602)

Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary is accredited by the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges (SACSCOC) to award master's and doctoral degrees. Questions about the accreditation of Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary may be directed in writing to the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges at 1866 Southern Lane, Decatur, GA 30033-4097, by calling 404-679-4500, or by using information available on SACSCOC's website.

Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary was last reaffirmed in 2020 and is scheduled for reaffirmation in 2030.

Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary is accredited by the Commission on Accrediting of The Association of Theological Schools (ATS) and is approved to offer the following degrees: MDiv, MAR, MAMFT, and DMin.

The Marriage and Family Therapy Program at Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary is accredited by the Commission on Accreditation for Marriage and Family Therapy Education (COAMFTE) of the American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy (AAMFT), 1133 15th Street, NW, Suite 300, Washington, D.C. 20005-2710, 202.452.0109.

Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary is also approved by the University Senate of the United Methodist Church.

Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary is licensed by the Kentucky Council on Postsecondary Education (CPE) as a non-public postsecondary institution. For information on making a consumer complaint through CPE, visit this web site.

[aardvaark]

i love that nate is meant to be the Normal Guy in the leverage team bc he wasn’t a thief, but what we know of nate’s past tells us he was a guy who:

had weird tense post-work drinks with his rival on rooftops

was frenemies with sterling

dropped out of seminary school... to become an insurance claims investigator

but still stayed friends with at least one person who actually completed seminary and became a priest

has a masters degree in statistics. which is not necessary for insurance investigation (not like it’s unhelpful of course, but it’s very much not a job requirement). it’s also clearly not necessary for being a priest, so idk why he has that exactly. just did a masters in statistics for fun

would love to receive a secret button camera as a gift. to the point his wife would buy him one as a birthday present.

is the first person you’d suspect of faking a miracle

caught the eye of world-class grifter sophie devereaux, long before he had any inclination of becoming a thief too

seemed more shocked and taken aback by being called a wanker than by being SHOT

[thegirlsarethriving]

women don't want feel-good verses we want in-depth theology

a lot of these false teachers are also found in women's ministries and bible studies which is why you'll always see me advocate for women to study the Bible along with everyone else. women are not stupid. we don't need separate 'woman's bible guides' and a watered-down version of gospel. it's so easy for the enemy to deceive that way.

[mydaddywiki]

Thomas Wenski

Physique: Husky Build Height: 5'9"

Thomas Gerard Wenski (born October 18, 1950) is an American prelate of the Roman Catholic Church. He was appointed archbishop of the Archdiocese of Miami by Pope Benedict XVI on April 20, 2010, and was installed on June 1, 2010. He previously served as bishop of the Diocese of Orlando (2004–2010), coadjutor bishop of Orlando (2003–2004), and auxiliary bishop of Miami (1997–2003).

A handsome man. Although clean-shaven for most of his life (still handsome), he can grow an impressively thick beard apparently.

Born Oct. 18, 1950, in West Palm Beach, Wenski attended Sacred Heart School in Lake Worth and in ninth grade entered what was then the high school seminary of St. John Vianney. He continued his studies at St. Vincent de Paul Regional Seminary in Boynton Beach earning a Bachelor of Philosophy degree (1972) and a Master of Divinity degree (1975). He later received a Master of Arts degree from the School of Sociology of Fordham University in 1993. Wenski was ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Miami by Archbishop Coleman Carroll on May 15, 1976.

Wenski loves to joke (in three languages), rides a motorcycle for relaxation, a licensed pilot and has been known to puff on a cigar now and then. He’s almost perfect, if not for the whole priest thing. But I would over look that if he’d like to take a ride on my ‘personal hog.’ And by 'personal hog,’ I mean my penis. Oh, I am so going to hell.

[collapsedsquid]

The point is illustrated by the American state universities as a class, although the illustration is by no means uniformly convincing. The greater number of these state schools are not, or are not yet, universities except in name. These establishments have been founded, commonly, with a professed utilitarian purpose, and have started out with professional training as their chief avowed aim. The purpose made most of in their establishment has commonly been to train young men for proficiency in some gainful occupation; along with this have gone many half-articulate professions of solicitude for cultural interests to be taken care of by the same means. They have been installed by politicians looking for popular acclaim, rather than by men of scholarly or scientific insight, and their management has not infrequently been entrusted to political masters of intrigue, with scant academic qualifications; their foundations has been the work of practical politicians with a view to conciliate the good will of a lay constituency clamouring for things tangibly "useful" -- that is to say, pecuniarily gainful. So these experts in short- term political prestige have made provision for schools of a "practical" character; but they have named these establishments "universities" because the name carries an air of scholarly repute, of a higher, more substantial kind than any naked avowal of material practicality would give. Yet, in those instances where the passage of time has allowed the readjustment to take place, these quasi-"universities," installed by men of affairs, of a crass "practicality," and in response to the utilitarian demands of an unlearned political constituency, have in the long run taken on more and more of an academic, non-utilitarian character, and have been gradually falling into line as universities claiming a place among the seminaries of the higher learning. The long-term drift of modern cultural ideals leaves these schools no final resting place short of the university type, however far short of such a consummation the greater number of them may still be found.

From a piece published in 1918

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Temptation Chapter 1

Summary: Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants.  So why does this fallen angel tempt him so?  You cannot serve two masters.  Will he choose God, or his heart? Here's the Priest!Bucky x curvy!reader fic! I hope y'all like it. Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

Next chapter

“Father Barnes, I have some unfortunate news.”

Bucky turned towards his senior priest, Father Richards.  “Yes?”

“Constance Y/L/N has just passed away.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he processed the news.  “How sad.  I mean, she was getting up there in age but, still, a great loss.”

“Yes, it is.  Her funeral arrangements will be handled by her granddaughter, Y/N Y/L/N.  She should be landing into town tomorrow, I was hoping you would be willing to pick her up at the airport and bring her to Constance’s home, then schedule a meeting about the arrangements and the service?”

“Of course, Father.”

That’s where Bucky found himself now, waiting in the baggage claim area of the airport with a sign in his hand that had her name written on it.  He had no idea what she looked like or knew anything about her.  As he looked around, waiting patiently, a woman came through the door that made him do a double take.  She was beautiful, short and curvy, dressed in a long black dress that she kept stepping on, covered by an oversized, long, black and ripped sweatshirt that read “WOMEN RUN SHIT” in red embroidery, Converse sneakers that peeked from under her dress, with long pointy nails and her pink hair piled atop her head, held up by a black scarf.  She had very little makeup on except for a dark, blood red lipstick that Bucky couldn’t seem to stop staring at.  She looked around until her eyes fell on Bucky, read the sign, and gave him a polite smile as she headed towards him.  Bucky gave her a polite smile back as he tried to hide the panic he was feeling inside.   

“Father Barnes?” Y/N asked as she approached him.

“Yes, Y/N Y/L/N?”

“That’s me,” she flashed him a full smile, making her teeth look stark against her lipstick.  

“Is this all you have?” Bucky asked, looking at the purse and backpack slung over her shoulders and the large rolling suitcase she had.

“Yep, don’t have much.  Thank you for the ride.  I haven’t been to Brooklyn since I was a kid and I just didn’t wanna deal with the hassle of a taxi or Uber.”

“It’s no problem.”

Bucky tried hard to not stare at her or even look at her too much.  He had been a priest at his parish for 15 years, and had never had a moment where he felt like he was being led astray, like he’d always been warned about during his seminary years.  He felt secure in his promises and covenants to the church and to God.  And yet here was this woman, who just waltzed into his life on a chance, who he was feeling something very strange towards that made him question his life.  And he didn’t even know her.  Sinful.

“So what do you do for a living?” Bucky tried to break the ice as he drove silently, weaving through the New York traffic as best as he could.

“I’m a traveling photographer,” Y/N said as she watched the buildings and bridges fly by.  

“Really?  That’s interesting.  How did you get into that?” he asked.

“Um, it just kinda fell into my lap, I guess,” Y/N answered, giving him a glance.  “I grew up in Brooklyn, went to the church and everything with my grandmother, but at 16 I decided it wasn’t for me and went through a bit of a rough patch for a while.  Started taking pictures as I went from place to place, posting online, and gained a following.  Here I am, 16 years later, getting paid to go places and take pictures and give travel advice.”

“Wow,” Bucky breathed.  “Where’s your favorite place you’ve been?

“Well, traveling as a plus sized person has its challenges,” she started, shifting in her seat.  “The place that I felt most comfortable was the Leeward Islands, so Bora Bora, Tahiti, those areas of French Polynesia.”

“Very tropical,” Bucky commented.

“Ha, yes,” she giggled.  “A big reason why I loved it.”  She paused and looked at him.  “Have you ever been on a beach like that?”

“No,” Bucky answered.  “A beach at a lake when I was a kid, but nothing quite as pretty as crystal blue waters,” he glanced at her, giving her a lopsided smile.

“Hm,” Y/N watched him, a sad expression flitting across her face.  “That’s too bad.  There’s really nothing like it.”  She paused again, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips.  “A pretty thing like you on a sandy beach in Bora Bora would do wonders with the locals.”

Bucky’s eyes widened at her compliment.  He cleared his throat and swallowed as he tried to relax the blush that filled his cheeks.  “Thank you for the compliment.”

“Anytime, handsome,” she teased him, huffing out a laugh at his expense.

Bucky wasn’t blind to the fact that he had attractive features.  He’d been hit on too many times to count by the women, and some of the men, in his congregation throughout the years.  Some tried harder than others, the idea of a forbidden love or lust-driven “corrupting the priest” sounding appealing.  He’d been able to squash those easily.  He could of course see or recognize when people were attractive, and occasionally had the fleeting thought of “what if?”  But it sounded different coming from her for some reason.  

“I mean really, if the priests looked like you when I was in church I would have paid more attention.”

She said it in such a deadpan tone that Bucky couldn’t help but to fully laugh.  She joined him in laughing as they finally pulled up to her grandmother’s brownstone home.  Bucky helped her hoist her large luggage up the stairs.  Y/N grabbed the key from the hidden spot that the estate lawyer had told her about and let herself and Bucky in.  She wheeled the luggage off to the side as she looked around the foyer.

“Almost exactly the same,” she muttered.

“Y/N–”

“You know, it’s just very strange for me to call you Father,” Y/N interrupted him as she whirled around to face him.  “What’s your first name?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up.  “Oh, um, it’s James, but I always went by Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Y/N repeated it, looking confused.

Bucky silently reveled in how she said his name.  “My middle name is Buchanan, don’t ask me why,” he joked, making her snort.  “Bucky for short.  I just always went by that rather than James when I was younger.”

“Well is it alright if I call you Bucky?” Y/N asked hopefully.

Bucky really should have said no, that it’s not appropriate for people to call him by his name rather than his title.  Yet he found himself saying, “Yes.”

“Great.  I’m sorry I interrupted you, what were you going to say?” 

“Well, my senior priest, Father Richards and I would like to set up a meeting with you to go over the funeral arrangements.  When would you like to do that?”

“Sure, um…” Y/N got distracted by something in the foyer.  Bucky followed her eye line to the large cross her grandmother had mounted above the door.  She sighed heavily before meeting his gaze.  “How about tomorrow?  10 a.m.?”

“That sounds great,” Bucky agreed.  “Well, is there anything else I could help you with while I’m here?”

“No, thank you.  You’ve been very helpful,” Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Great, see you then.”  Bucky turned away and out the door, unable to handle being in such a close space with her anymore.

As he got back into the parish car and drove back to the church he heaved a heavy sigh of his own.  This is going to be dangerous.

***

The next morning Bucky found himself taking more time to get ready.  He was trimming his beard, redoing his hair in a bun and repeatedly straightening out his Roman collar and his shirt.  He knew why he was doing it but was in deep denial.

Father Richards was waiting in the main office as Bucky went out to the sanctuary to see if Y/N had shown up yet.  When he walked in he easily found her sitting on one of the pews.  Today she wore a long, fluffy cardigan with a sports bra and flowy lounge pants.  She wore no makeup and her hair looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.  

“Good morning, Y/N,” Bucky greeted her as he approached.

Y/N was staring at the large cross at the front of the sanctuary with the statue of Jesus hanging on it.  Her eyes slowly turned to him, a frown on her face that she tried to hide quickly.

“Good morning, Bucky,” she greeted him, her voice sounding scratchy.  “I’m sorry I look a mess, the jet lag is making me feel rough.”

“I understand, it’s alright,” Bucky gestured for her to follow him.

He led her back into the hallways of the church until they reached the main priest’s office.  Y/N paused for a moment outside the office door as Bucky held it open for her, before she inhaled quickly and stepped through the door.

“Miss Y/L/N, my name is Father Richards,” Richards held his hand out, which she stiffly shook.  “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under more pleasant circumstances.  May I offer my deepest condolences to you.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said somberly.  She sat on the chair in front of the large wooden desk.  Her eyes settled on one scuffed spot on the desk as Father Richards and Bucky sat across from her.

“So, let’s get started,” Father Richards began.  “I’m sure you know your grandmother was a big supporter of the church.  She gave us some of our largest donations over her lifetime.  She had some instructions she left with me but I wanted to make sure everything sounded good to you before I enacted them, or if there was something left in her will that I wasn’t aware of?”

“The will and everything else is stuck in probate court right now,” Y/N answered, her tired eyes trying to focus on him.  “So honestly, whatever she told you is fine.  Doesn’t really matter to me.”

“I see,” Father Richards said, sounding a little annoyed.  Bucky glanced at him.

“Please don’t mistake my indifference for not caring,” Y/N retorted.  “I loved my grandmother, I just didn’t love her religion.  And that caused a rift between us.  I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years, so I was pretty surprised when I got a call from a lawyer in New York telling me she’d died and left me everything,” she continued, her words getting more curt by the second.  “No offense to either of you but me being here is highly triggering.  So is there anything else you need from me?”

“Uh, yes,” Richards tried to recover the conversation, his tone sounding more jovial.  “She did ask that you sing at her funeral.”  

“Absolutely not,” Y/N spat, her eyes narrowing as she minutely shook her head.

“Oh, well, I mean that’s what she wrote here–”

“No.”  

Bucky watched on in concern.  He knew the church came with a lot of baggage for some people, that its history was unclean.  He worried about what this would mean for them as she worked with them for this funeral.

“Hm, of course you don’t have to, but she always said how you had a lovely singing voice–”

“I said no,” she seethed.  “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she stood suddenly, Bucky and Father Richards copying her.  “I need to go.  Just call me if you need something else.”  She rummaged into her cardigan pocket, pulling out a wallet and taking out a business card, flinging it at them on the desk.  “Good day.”

She turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the office.  Father Richards and Bucky exchanged a bewildered look.  “Go,” Father Richards instructed.

Bucky jogged out of the office to catch up to Y/N.  “Y/N, please wait!”

Y/N sighed loudly as she turned back around to Bucky.  “I’m sorry for my rudeness, I just can’t stay here,” she said, continuing to walk away. 

“Hey,” he jogged around her until he faced her.  “Obviously there’s some deep problems you have with the church.”

“No shit Sherlock,” she dodged him, heading towards the front doors.

“And I don’t blame you!” Bucky walked alongside her.  “There have been bad things that have happened in its history.”

Y/N stopped abruptly as she rounded on him.  “To ME!” she pointed a finger towards herself.  Bucky stopped, his eyes widening at her.  She was shaking as she tried to calm herself.  She took a deep breath and a step back from him.  “I appreciate that the church has given you comfort, peace, a purpose maybe, but I grew up here,” she paused, stopping herself from crying.  “Father Carmine was here before you two, right?”  Bucky nodded his head slowly as he watched her.  “He hurt me.”

Bucky felt his heart plummet.  He had met Father Carmine many years ago as he and Father Richards were transferred in to replace him.  He had had an amazing rapport with the community, his congregation seemed to love him.  Now Bucky knew the reason for his sudden retirement.

Y/N scoffed.  “That notch on the desk?  In the office?  That’s from the heel of my shoe,” she took a step closer to him as she peered up at him, a fury in her eyes that made him feel like withering on the spot.  “My Mary Jane shoes, from my school uniform, when I was 15 years old.”  Bucky felt like he was going to throw up as he digested this information.  “So you’ll have to excuse me, if coming here to the place where I was abused and then unbelieved by the woman who raised me who I now have to bury, is dredging up some pretty raw emotions in me right now.”  Y/N was whispering now, her eyes filling with tears as she glared at him.  “Every cross, every Jesus statue, every rosary, every goddamn Roman collar,” her eyes flickered to his neck, “reminds me of that day.  So the fact that my grandmother was willing to still hold her funeral here in this godforsaken place, and then have the audacity to throw her money at me and ask me to sing?”  Y/N shivered violently as she grunted.  “I can’t…”

Bucky didn’t know what to do as he watched her fight off an oncoming panic attack.  “Y/N, hey…look,” he started to take off his Roman collar.  She watched him hesitantly.  “See?  Look, just me.  Not Father Barnes, not Father anything, just Bucky.”  He held his hands up towards her in a sign of meaning no harm.  “Constance was extremely devout, for sure,” Y/N scoffed again, rolling her eyes.  “But that was no excuse for her not to believe you,” he took a step forward.  Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him.  “You deserved to be believed.  You deserved justice, and you never got it.  I’m so sorry,” he took another step until he could reach out and hold her arms.  He lowered his face so he was eye level with her.  “I’m so sorry for what happened to you.  You didn’t deserve it, no one deserves that.” Y/N’s tears finally fell as she shook in his hands.  “And I’m sorry for Father Richards pushing you, he’s a very…no nonsense, regimented kind of guy.  But he should have taken your refusal the first time.”  He squeezed her arms and she took a shaky breath.  “We’ll follow her instructions, get through the funeral, and then you can be done with this place.  And go enjoy a long vacation on a beach in Bora Bora for me.”

Y/N laughed at that, her smile finally breaking the sadness etched in her face.  She wiped her eyes as Bucky dropped his hands from her.  He felt like his palms were stinging from the sensation of touching her.  “Thank you, Bucky,” she sniffed.  

“No problem,” he smiled at her.  “I know this isn’t a great place for you, but I hope you know that I believe you, and I’m here for you.”

Y/N gave him a long look, her eyes roaming his face momentarily.  She nodded and turned to leave, then suddenly turned back around and walked up to him.  She wound her arms around his waist and gave him a hug, squeezing him.  He barely had a chance to hug her back before she stepped away and walked out of the front doors.  Bucky watched her leave, already missing the way she smelled.

***

A week later the funeral was held.  Constance had quite the turnout for her service.  Since she had no other family other than Y/N she had made connections with almost everyone in the congregation, and with her large donations throughout her life to that parish specifically the church was willing to go all out for her.  Y/N had let the two priests handle everything, only coming back one day before the funeral to go over the itinerary for the day before swiftly leaving.

Bucky gave a short portion of the service and then sat down next to Y/N as Father Richards finished the rest.  She was in all black: a long sleeved, boat-neck dress that reached the floor, with black lace gloves and a black lace veil on her head, holding Constance’s rosary.  Her face was devoid of emotion as she looked down at the floor.  When it was time for a song Y/N squirmed in her seat, wrinkling the program in her hand.  Bucky reached out and held her hand, which seemed to help her ground herself.  She didn’t look at him, but gave his hand a small squeeze of appreciation.

When the time came for people to walk to the casket for one last viewing, many people placed roses and other flowers on top of the closed part of the lid, then walked over to Y/N and shook her hand, offering their condolences.  Bucky stood by her.  Whenever someone tried to bring something up to her about her inheritance from her grandmother or some kind of favor that was once promised he helped to move the line along.  Constance was finally buried in the church’s courtyard, which really wasn’t something that was done anymore, but since she had been a huge donor her request was granted to be buried there.  After people were leaving and Bucky was bidding farewell he suddenly couldn’t find Y/N.  One second she stood next to the grave, the next she was gone.  He looked around then went inside.  He searched the halls, the offices, and then entered the sanctuary.  She was standing at the front next to the prayer candles.

“There you are, I thought I’d lost you,” Bucky huffed a laugh.  “Everything is finished.  You are free.”

“I’m not,” Y/N sighed.  She held up Constance’s rosary in her hand, admiring the glass beads and the gold.  It was an expensive rosary that most people would not be able to afford.

“What do you mean?” he asked as he walked up behind her.

“The estate,” she answered simply.  “The lawyer called me yesterday.  He said that there’s some donations she had written in her will for the church, so I won’t be rid of this until that’s settled.  Which could take months.”  Her fingers gripped the rosary tightly.

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry, Y/N,” Bucky mumbled.

“It’s fine,” she waved him off as she faced him.  “Thank you for all your help today.  And if you could pass along a thanks to Father Richards I would appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he promised, giving her a quick smile.

She sighed again, giving the cross with Jesus on it another glance.  “You know what?  Here,” she reached for his hand then plopped the expensive rosary into his palm.  “It’s no use to me.”

“Y/N, this is…it’s very nice, I can’t take it,” Bucky sputtered as he stared at the rosary.

“Yes you can.  I don’t want it, and who else would get more use out of a rosary than a priest?” she gave him a smirk.  “I’m going to go get drunk and find someone to fuck.  Tell Jesus I said hi when you pray for me.”  She winked then swayed her hips as she walked down the aisle and out the doors.

Bucky’s mouth dropped open as she left, his hand almost dropping the rosary.  He felt a stirring below his belt that made him blush and give the Jesus statue a sheepish look.  She’s gonna be the death of me.

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

[bumpkling]

IMPORTANT ADDITION FROM S7EP14

Chase: Be honest with her. But if it comes down to a choice between the brutal truth and hope, side with hope.

i can’t believe he said this so saliently oh my god. side with hope.

Okay need to make a post entirely about chase being insane about religion. Chase's endless religious cycling. how badly and desperately and clearly he wants to believe, how much he wants faith and god, and how he can never quite - make it. Never quite get there. How he openly admires and defends the faith of others, faith and prayer as concepts, how he turns to confession in a crisis, how he still has large parts of the bible committed to memory, how he never answers any questions about his faith, if he believes in God, if anything.

In Damned If You Do, he shares his favorite bible verse with the nun. The episode itself paraphrases it a little, but the verse he mentions reads:

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while you may have to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith, more precious than gold which though perishable is tested by fire, may redound to praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

(you will suffer. it will be so hard. you will be tested. gold can be melted and your faith is more valuable, and if you keep trying, you will be rewarded, you will.)

(AUGUSTINE: Why did you leave the seminary? CHASE: That test. You passed, I failed.)

Here Kitty:

PATIENT: Do you want to tell me what an idiot I'm being? CHASE: No. I really believe that there are things that science can't understand. That there is a role for faith and prayer. But it's in the waiting room. Not the O.R. PATIENT: There's a reason I got sick. There's a reason for all the bad things that have happened to me. I don't know what that reason is. But I know that if there isn't one… If there's no greater purpose in the world. Then it's not a world I want to live in. CHASE: I'll schedule an operating room.

House Training:

CHASE: You want to go get drunk? FOREMAN: No thanks. I’ve got paperwork. CHASE: Listen, I don’t… I don’t know what I believe, but sometimes I need to think there’s something out there paying attention. So when I can’t talk to anybody, I talk to God, and pretend somebody’s listening. We were all wrong, Foreman. Even House was wrong. FOREMAN: I know.

He leaves the chapel in Damned if You Do. He prays for the baby in Forever. He gives the woman in Here Kitty her risky surgery; he defends the faith healer and Wilson's girlfriend's faith in House vs. God.

House vs. God:

HOUSE: When you were in seminary, did God ever talk to you? CHASE: …No.

Chase:

I always wanted to believe. It would have made my life a lot easier. It never took.

(AUGUSTINE: You told me your favorite passage. Would you like to hear mine? “Celebrate and be glad, for your brother was dead and is alive again.” CHASE: …The prodigal son.)

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Patrick Slyman | We love our expositional sermons, don’t we? We cherish the Christian books on our nightstands, the many devotionals we turn to every morning, and the myriad of Bible studies we attend. We have our favorite preachers, our favorite conferences, and our favorite study Bibles. Why? Because we love to eat spiritual food. We are sheep, after all...

[agent-darkfest]

So moon have black sclera bcuz he was born at night? So that means all his tribe members are born at night as well (since black sclera is common in his tribe) or can they also be born in the day and have white sclera?And he was born under a red moon? That’s so cool! Does his peers often envied or admired his eyes bcuz i find it quite cool if i was a djinn in his tribe i’d be jealous x3. And what does sun thinks of his eyes?

And concerning the djinn madness is it related to how he feels ? Like a strong emotion ? Because i remember the kanibalo sketch (so funny btw XD) and every time he was angry he had the djinn madness eyes so I’m assuming that they come out every time he’s angry/threatened etc..? Correct me if I’m wrong!!

Yup, all of Moon's tribe members have black sclera. His peers think that he has very unique eyes. His tribe being very religious, and because of the elders, believe that this is a sign of him doing great things in the future (this puts a lot of pressure on him in his youth). Some members do envy Moon because of this. Sun's tribe also think that Sun has very unique eyes, but they look at it from a more scientific perspective (they are more scholars).

Sun thinks Moon's eyes are very pleasing to look at.

As for the Djinn's madness, it is something that Djinns develope the longer they stay in their artifact. Since it comes from a build-up of negative energy, it stands to reason that negative feelings or emotions can trigger it. Moon actually is showing incredible restraint and control; this is in part due to his resolve and the discipline he learned from his Seminary.

Some say that when a Djinn was overtaken by Djinn's Madness, they were immediately put down by their master. There is no coming back from Djinn's Madness. The artifact they were bound to would be destroyed and all the energy contained would rush back to the Djinn and shatter his soul.

[daresplaining]

Matt: "In recent weeks, the streets have spread the news that the original Daredevil has returned. But Matt Murdock, Esq., is still dead. Youth home director Father Matthew has taken his place. It's not a hoax or a dream. My master's degree in Divinity is hanging up at home. And I have memories, however fuzzy, of attending seminary." Daredevil vol. 8 #5 by Saladin Ahmed, Farid Karami, Jesus Aburtov, and Clayton Cowles

After taking a little break, I am now fully caught up on the current run, which means it's time for some posts.

For everyone keeping track at home: Mike Murdock was killed while pretending to be Matt, and Matt used that as an opportunity to fake his own death. Then he went off to fight the Hand and died for real. Now he's back, but most people still think he's dead-- the people who originally thought he was dead, and the people who knew about the faked death but don't know that the real one didn't stick. But maybe...he is still dead after all? (Man, I love comics.)

I've made some comments to the effect that the Matt Murdock who has been headlining Daredevil for the past few years is essentially a new character, but I was not expecting confirmation in the new run that this is literally true: we're now following a different version of Matt, whose original memories have been almost, but not quite, overwritten by entirely different memories of a past that didn't actually happen (Mike parallels, anyone?). What does it mean for the original Matt to be "still dead"? Who, or what, is this new guy? Will the original Matt return? Will Divinity Degree Matt take over for good? Will they meld into some kind of Matt-shaped amalgam creature? As much as all of the religion in this run turns me off, and as disinterested as I am in the concept of Father Matthew, I'm intrigued by this strange, mysterious Fake Boy Matt situation.

[rainismdata]

House MD: Original Character

Maddox N. Jagajiva, one of the PPTH's ophthalmologist.

Name: Dr. Maddox N. Jagajiva, MD, MACC

Nickname: Maddie or Max

Specialty: neuro-ophthalmology and ocular oncology

Education: Univ. of Pennsylvania (undergraduate), Sid. Kim. Medical College Philadelphia (medical school), Wills Eye Hos. (residency and fellowships) [shortened for censoring purposes]

Season Appearance: 1, 5, 8

Character informations:

[before I said anything, I'd like to inform you that the "season" that I'd be talking about is me trying to refer the timeline. But could aslo be referred as some episode or additional episodes]

Born: 1970

Her nickname is Maddie or Max. Simply because her friends at school and outside work, also her family called her Max! while mostly her colleagues called her Maddie. She also goes with Maddie for Lisa and Rachel. Getting called Dr. Maddox at clinic and counseling hour; rather than Dr. Jagajiva.

Education and Employment:

Finished residency and neuro-opthalmology fellowship in 2001 (both at Wills Eye Hos.)

Appears only in a few episodes on those seasons for reasons: a. having DDx for psychosomatic case and any case when neuro-opthalmology was needed (season 1), b. helping PPTH's oncology department out of her interest in ocular oncology (season 5), c. having a research/project in a topic for ocular oncology and referring Wilson as her 1st/main advisor (season 8, counted as after House got the car to Cuddy's house), d. Flirts with Cuddy (whole)

Out of PPTH from after season 1 and before season 5; to have a degree of Master of Arts in Christisn Counseling. The first encounter with House after jail was at the middle of season 8; by House teasing her of having studied in christian studies, not knowing how could House know about it, because she basically just ran away from PPTH. House didn't even mention anything about it in Season 5; he's just "joking" about her should join Chase to finish seminary in s5. But then she knew later in late late about to the end of season 8, Cuddy told her that it could be possibly Lucas.

Meanwhile— She's having a fellowship in ocular oncology at the end of season 5 until after lucasxcuddy thing.

Her role in PPTH was as one of a few opthalmologist; doesn't want to have the head of department role because then she couldn't go as free as long as far as she wants.

Health condition:

Sjögren Syndrome, results in having only one eye that could be used for sighting while the other is having black-grey visions, as if having no vision catched at all. She could use a transplant but choses not to. For that, sometimes House would tease her with a few fingers up beside her unworkable eye side and asked her how much finger he got up. She's also bad in pain management but wouldn't having drugs because she could only swallow small SMALL tablet, otherwise then SMASH IT. Also, she's photosensitive but she can managed that (sometimes it was psychosomatic).

Much much information of her:

Did I say she's Asian? Well— Yeah... She is.

Tea lover and coffee enjoyer. At times, she would make herself and drink both tea and coffee in one cup.

She's ambidextrous, mainly using right hand for writing and left hand for things. Plays ukulele and percussions, and alto singer in choir.

Has ADHD and OCD (and doesn't want to confront people about her conditions or would just subtly spoken to them if they manage to bother her), easy to cut people off but hardly forget what they did. That being said, she would just brush it off if someone teasing her about her "perfectionistic" thing.

Was once trained in Karate when she's in high school; never getting back to it since then.

Additional Plot Informations:

Whenever House mildly or severely teasing or debating her about being perfectionist-but-unrestrained, about her being counselor, her faith; it's either she's just giving subtly remarks and brush it off or having Cuddy to do the debating part.

House sometimes called her Mad Dog; while Maddie would then said Mad Doctor or Mad Scientist (yeah, she's referring to Dr. Cockroaches). Also has "Mad Max" as one of her nicknames.

If anything— Wilson teased her for having crush in Cuddy. Thirteen has joined in the course to tease her.

Having "one eye - one leg" convo with House.

She has the basics from calvinist ⛪💒. She's having fun when House, Wilson, Cuddy, and Chase are having a beef about religion/beliefs thing with their patients.

Despite all that convo of House and Cuddy bickering at each other, she would find a smooth sentences to flirts with Cuddy. It was so subtle that sometimes Cuddy would stop whatever she's doing and acknowledge the "smart move". Otherwise, she's just having those broken hearts scenes in movie while in season 7. Non canonical episode or story, she's getting together with Cuddy in season 8. Wilson warned her if IF there's a possibility of House trying to get to know what happened to Cuddy; but somehow Maddie and Wilson would just brushed it off. House has never audibly asked her how's Cuddy doing, and when their eyes met in hallways, she would just gave him a nod.

Maddie as Lisa's Lover:

Doesn't go to House's "funeral", but when she knew Wilson was missing despite of him having only "a few months" to live... she's just hoping the happiest for both Wilson and House.

Also a gamer, mostly for Action RPG. She plays the game series of Final Fantasy, Resident Evil, Monster Hunter, and Dynasty Warriors since the first time the games were came out. She plays multiplayer games with Rachel Cuddy, having Lisa provides them with snacks and would feeding them the foods if she wasn't working on her own.

Enjoys reading bedtime stories with Rachel and Lisa. Sometimes, they would taking turns on who's the one who tells the story.

Her shift is mostly afternoon about to the middle of the night, so she could took Lisa and Rachel to their workplace/school. While she couldn't go home together, she could still having the time for bedtime together.

Still enjoys flirting subtly to Lisa. Sometimes she would just ask Rachel to say to her Mom what Maddie wants to say to Lisa.

Despite being the one who flirts regularly, she would just becoming a tomato every time Lisa was getting her back at flirting.

Is a little spoon.

Both of them enjoyed cooking; it came down to Rachel.

Physical Appearance:

5'3" tall (looks like having broad shoulders, but she actually isn't), black waist-long hair (either always in french/dutch braid, or getting hair bun with hairstick), brown-grey eyes, "honey" brown skin tone, impaired eye is covered with somekind of washable medical mask-like eyepatch for daily use, wears glasses with clear lense for an eye while the impaired one is getting black lense (in the same glasses) if wasn't wearing eyepatch, for regular medical or christian counseling then she wears docmart/maryjane-trousers-shirt-vest-tie (in windsor or christensen knot) also with a doctor coat (medical) or blazer (christian), mostly either wears sleeveless top with long pants/skirt or sleeves top with short pants for daily, fashion/outfit color code are earth, forrest, and monochrome (mainly dark colors).

Disclaimer: (omg I was too late for this)

I'm making this fancanon while trying both realistically and inaccurately, simply for fictional purposes. People in medical/hospital area would obviously know that I'd be wrong (bcs basically I'm not coming from that area).

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

What does it mean that you're a catholic presbyterian? What are your views on Church authority and predestination?

I like to imagine myself as a tree with Irish Catholic roots, a Presbyterian/Protestant trunk, and agnostic/ecumenical/interfaith-reaching branches.

I need all parts to be whole. All parts rely on Divine warmth, water, breath for life. All parts depend on a rich soil of scripture, story, and the wisdom of those who've come before me for nourishment and grounding.

___

The roots:

I was baptized and raised Roman Catholic. My family (and a large number of families in the area I grew up) has a proud history of Irish Catholicism in particular. My childhood church was Catholic, and I was passionate about participating in that community's life all through grade school.

Some of my earliest religion-related memories are of reading Saints' stories, establishing relationships with those who most spoke to me. Mother Mary has had my heart as far back as my memories go.

As I discovered my queerness in college and gradually realized the need to seek fully welcoming community, I did not leave behind those things I held most dear from Catholic spirituality.

Over the years, my connection to the Roman Catholic Church as an institution has fractured more and more; last May it splintered entirely. But I refuse to let Rome have a monopoly on Catholic faith, or on Mary and the Saints.

...Especially because Mary and the Saints were my greatest spiritual supports in college: with delighted wonder, I came to recognize how very queer my closest Saints were! They helped me embrace my queerness as a holy gift; I carried them with me into a little PC(USA) church that my then-girlfriend, now-wife found near our college campus.

The trunk:

The Presbyterian Church (USA) denomination holds me up in sturdy community: this is the denomination I'm currently "officially" part of — got my Masters of Divinity at a PCUSA seminary, got married in a PCUSA church, am on this denomination's ordination path.

This doesn't mean I think the PCUSA is the best religion or even the best form of mainline Protestantism. They all have their strengths and their flaws. But the PCUSA was the one that first came into my path, and I'm currently satisfied with my decision to commit myself to it — so long as it continues to make plenty of room for my Catholic roots and ecumenical branches.

The branches:

Though Louisville Seminary is a Presbyterian institution, when I attended from 2016-2019 at least 40% of my classmates and some of the staff there belonged to other denominations (or in a few cases, aren't Christian at all).

The opportunity to learn alongside folks from a variety of traditions was invaluable to my continued spiritual growth. I learned so much from them! I grew into my sense that all individuals and faith communities have something to teach us the Divine and about what it means to be human in relationship to Divinity and to Creation.

Then there's the agnostic part of the "branches":

Over the years I've also experienced more and more seasons where I'm just not sure that the Trinity, the Incarnation and Resurrection, and all that Christian-specific stuff is "real." But whether or not it is, I choose to remain committed to this path I'm on — with openness to fresh insights — because I do draw spiritual nourishment here. I do believe that the story of the Trinity and the Incarnation can guide us into living for Goodness, Justice, abundant life for all beings.

...Basically, I don't know whether it's all "true," but I do believe it holds powerful Truth; I remain committed to the Story.

(Also the bible has been my main special interest since i was like 6 so it's one of the main lenses through which i view the world so i'm stuck here for better or worse lfadfjalfjdalk;j! )

I believe it's imperative for Christians living in Christian supremacist cultures to practice humility above all else — to accept the fact that we don't have all the answers, that we're not the Most Right, that we don't enjoy unique favor with God. For me, identifying as agnostic reminds me that I don't know everything about God by any means, and may actually know very little at all. It reminds me to remain humble, open, and curious.

The fruit:

My hope is that this little tree that is me yields good fruit. I don't care if I have all the right answers, so long as I'm glorifying the Divine in some small way; easing suffering in some small way; bringing joy into this world in some small way. That's what matters to me.

________

I imagine the above implies my views on Church authority. If it doesn't, well, I'll just say I'm kind of an anarchist about church as much as anything else! The Church should never have come to wield as much power as it has. And whatever the "role" of the Church is in the Divine Story, I remember learning somewhere in seminary that the ultimate future of Church is to dissolve — that when we've experienced the full in-breaking of God's Kin-dom, there will be no more need for Church.

________

Not all Presbyterians hold to predestination — and for most I know who do, it's not really a central part of their faith life.

But sure, you could say I believe in predestination: I believe we are all predestined for participation in God's Kin-dom! :)

________

Further reading:

My tag of LGBTA patron Saints <3

My first podcast ep explores some of my spiritual journey

My queer and Catholic tag

Some other semi-related tags — good fruit tag; religious pluralism tag; evangelism tag; church hurt tag

My PCUSA tag, which includes a post with some old class notes about predestination

OH ALSO there's a podcast called "Called to Be Multiple" that interviews folks who draw from multiple faith sources. Cool stuff!

[germanpostwarmodern]

Among the great architects of interwar Amsterdam Jan van Hardeveld (1891-1953) takes on the role of the successful unknown: although he realized a considerable number of housing blocks, the Augustinuskerk and also frequently worked beyond the borders of the city, he is way lesser known than e.g. Michel de Klerk or Piet Kramer. This circumstance might have to do with Hardeveld’s stylistic pluralism that included the traditionalism of Granpré Molière, a restrained expressionism as well as classic modernism, a diversity that made him difficult to categorize. As a result and despite Hardeveld’s impressive writing as (chief) editor of different periodicals, little has been written about him and a proper monograph didn’t exist until very recently. Fortunately Mart J.M. Franken transferred his master’s thesis into the present book, published as part of the meritorious series of monographs by Stichting Bonas. In an exemplary manner the author provides a biography, analyses of Van Hardeveld‘s work phases and a comprehensive, illustrated work catalogue.

Van Hardeveld’s oeuvre can be captioned with one word and that is versatility which applies to typologies, styles and clients: Van Hardeveld designed villas just as well as social housing blocks, commercial buildings and churches, he was commissioned by private clients, retailers and the Catholic Church (Hardeveld was a convert) and built in all relevant styles of the time. But while stylistic flexibility oftentimes is identified with a lack of individuality, the book demonstrates that Van Hardeveld interpreted them in his very own way, namely as an architect rooted in the three basic principles of Vitruvius, firmitas, utilities and venustas. He didn’t lean towards the extremes but found his own expression in every one of them as demonstrate projects like the Housing Block at Baarsjesweg in Amsterdam, the Betonwoningen in Rotterdam or the Klein-Seminarie De Wijert in Apeldoorn.

The quality of Van Hardeveld’s pluriform oeuvre can easily be deduced from Mart Franken's well-written, well-structured and richly illustrated book that finally puts the architect back on the map of noteworthy architects of the interbellum.