#WHY DID HE USE SO MANY ADJECTIVES IM IN TEARS

[jekyll-hatepage]

Gay people CANNOT flirt normally, they gotta do shit like remarking (often) on their crush's professional, large, firm, white, and comely hands 😒🔥

[chocolate-parfait]

I've never sent an ask before so I apologize if I'm doing something wrong, but could I maybe request some more Gen Z mc headcanons? I just love the idea of mc having a platonic younger/older sibling dynamic especially with Napoleon and Jean 🥺👉👈

dw, dw! here it is✨

Gen Z!MC (pt. 2) - ikevamp headcanons (Napoleon & Jean)

Napoleon

You and Napoleon get along amazingly from the start. Sure, there is a generational gap and many of the things you do or laugh at cannot be explained, but believe me when I say that his charisma and open mindedness make up for it, a lot.

Being the naturally caring person he is, he immediately takes you under his wing (he basically adopts you, like he did with Jean and Isaac). No one is allowed to lay a hand on you for the whole month, else they'd have to catch his hands and sword. Related to this, no matter how much you tell him that you can fight on your own, he will NOT let you. First, he will have you join on his sparring sessions with Jean and teach you the basics, maybe even tell you a thing or two on how to throw a punch, but he'd rather have you safe and sound than covered in bruises and bloody scars.

This may paint him in a slightly overprotective light, but you probably won't even notice it unless you're throwing yourself headfirst into danger. A creep is harassing a woman in the street? Napoleon will deal with it before you can move another step. He was a soldier and an emperor, he has fought for a future of peace and equality, and you, the fruit of his hard work, should avoid any kind of bloodshed.

On the other hand, if the fight is verbal, he will 100% support you and cheer you on. He absolutely adores it whenever he sees the eloquence and unwavering confidence with which you defend your ideals, and he wonders whether a father would be feeling the same way.

Another thing he appreciates about you, is your humor. Although sometimes it kinda upsets him and makes him think about the type of society you must be coming from (self deprecating jokes, mostly), he cannot help but get a good laugh or two whenever he sees you laughing at the most nonsensical things.

One day, he, you and Arthur were talking about your life in the 21st century, when you happened to mention a friend of yours. "..oh yeah! This actually reminds me of my friend, Joe. Though it's too bad that he died of ligma" "I'm so sorry to heart that... what's... what's ligma though? A new illness?" "🕴 L I G M A B A L L S 🕴" im sorry this joke is overused but its 1AM and i saw it on a jujutsu kaisen tiktok pls beare with me

(+ you and Arthur falling to the ground, tears in your eyes and the most horrible whale noises filling up the whole room)

Other times you come up with the most original and unusual phrases that don't match your usual speech at all. "MC, what were you doing before coming here?" "I had sworn an oath of solitude 'till the blight was purged from mine lands" "What..?" "I was in quarantine because of a global pandemic" Oh.

When the time comes for you to say goodbye, he will, of course, feel a heavy dagger in his heart, but he'll gladly let you return to your peaceful time, the place where you belong to the most. Knowing you, you'll surely be fine, after all.

Jean

He's confused at first. You're young, somewhere near his age back when he was alive, and according to what you told the others you come from a """relatively""" peaceful time. without considering police brutality, discriminations, wars in certain countries, and a pandemic. Let's just say that many of us can lead a life without going to war and such But why, why are you so cursed?

Saying that he's taken aback would be an understatement. He simply cannot get more than half of what you talk about, he's not a social butterfly and he struggles with being open with others; you, however, don't seem to mind it too much. You approach him, fearlessly and with genuinely good intentions only. He resists and tries putting distance between you, but there's something, something that makes him want to talk to you, laugh with you and understand you more.

Your arrival shows him that which he could not be. A simple teenager. An innocent person who peacefully lives without having to worry about traitors, incoming battles and the sight of dead comrades in a puddle of their down blood. You look so carefree in whatever you do, even when nervous and hesitant, and yet you do not lack depth. He has seen you defending your principles, the fire in your eyes and spirit wholly concentrated on your interlocutors. Could he have been like that, too, if he had been given the chance?

Ever since meeting you, he's become more and more determined to learn the basics which he had completely missed during a time of war. Reading and writing, for example. He's not as naive as to completely let go of all his sins, but the untainted side of him, which had survived so many years of slaughter and had tied the adjectives "saint" and "pure" to his name, pushed him to work hard for those simple yet rewarding goals.

He's utterly at a loss for words when you propose to help him out though, and even more when he sees the lack of judgmental sneer in your eyes. Could you really be so innocent? Or perhaps it's a sign of your maturity and benevolence? Maybe you two are not so different, after all. Sure, you may be one hell of an oddball, but he surely isn't that normal, either

Whether he likes it or not, Jean subconsciously starts considering you as a younger sibling, and he feels the need to protect you by sacrificing himself; he's the only one with stained hands, you should remain the way you are. Pure and childlike, like he used to be. This will bring you to butt heads every now and then, because yours is not a kindness that stems from ignorance, but from open mindedness and awareness. In the end, you're both mutually taking care of each other, and it's so wholesome that someone's younger brother might feel a bit jealous of your bond.

Teach him some modern songs and some slangs (Jean to the other residents: wassup, my fellow homies!), tell him about popular blockbusters and bestseller stories, do some popular challenges with him, like the chubby bunny one but using macarons instead. Jean will naturally develop a smile, and his usual dark aura will slowly dissipate, like a clear sky after a thunderstorm.

After the month passes by, he gets more and more nervous as the day of your departure gets closer. He's used to saying goodbyes before heading into battle, prepared not to come back alive anymore, but to do it with someone who will be alive, even if years and years after your present time? That's definitely a first for him. Nevertheless, knowing the time where you'll be going back to, he feels reassured, and is finally able, perhaps for the first time in his turbulent life, to say "goodbye" with a smile on his face

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

https://matthewfairchildfanclub.tumblr.com/post/622613826051932160/okay-im-ranting-because-i-started-re-reading-the

What do u think about this? I'm kinda struck. I didn't read it that way? It didn't feel ooc to me? I am just stunned how many ppl agree with this because...thar entire thing was cardan and jude being dumb and sad and... Jude is a strong protagonist and ever scheming and persistent but she's...like human? She has feelings and is allowed to be sad??? Idk it's just strange to me

okay first thing's first: i'm not trying to start beef with OP (or anyone who agrees with OP). that is their opinion. they're allowed to have it. Jude and Cardan aren't real, but the person on the other side of that blog is.

second. i really only briefly skimmed the post because, honestly, it's the same argument i've seen everyone who doesn't like QON make. they think because Jude wouldn't burn down villages to get back into Elfhame after having her heart broken, she is, therefore, OOC.

let me tell you why i, personally, disagree with that statement. (TW: discussion of mental health and dissociation under the cut)

i'm going to split this into two parts. one is more anecdotal and the other is more character based.

as you point out, nonnie, Jude is strong. she is fierce, she is determined. but again, she is human. with human feelings. teenage human feelings, at that.

anyone who is not convinced Jude would feel pretty shit for a while after going through her first heartbreak is either too old to remember the rollick of teenage emotions mixed with the legless lord of young love, or they've simply never had their hearts broken before.

if the first, they're looking at Jude's situation with years of maturation behind them, years Jude doesn't yet have at that point. i think people forget this sometimes. Jude is just a teenager. and they probably want her to keep fighting because it's what they didn't do, but wished they had.

if the latter..... oh, my sweet summer child.

when i was young and in love (kind of) and then suddenly had everything ripped away from me within the span of a month, i honestly couldn't tell you what happened that summer. because i don't remember. i was backpacking but all i remember is sleeping well into the afternoon almost every day. lashing out at my friends for stupid shit. not eating. taking every chance i could get to isolate myself. being fine one moment, then in the next feeling like i was going to burst into tears out of nowhere. i had my first dissociative episode. it lasted for three days.

now, i'm probably not as scary as Jude. but i'd like to think i'm stubborn and spiteful enough to warrant some shadowy semblance. what i became was not who i or anyone else wanted or expected me to be. i wanted to be angry and rage and seek revenge, but i couldn't. people expected me to get over it, but i didn't. i was just stuck in this awful liminal place.

heartbreak isn't a single moment where your heart is shattered and then you immediately begin to pick up the pieces. that's unrealistic. heartbreak shatters you and then steals what's left away into a dense fog and laughs as you fumble around blindly on your hands and knees, searching for the lost pieces of yourself.

so, as nonnie pointed out, it is okay for Jude to be sad. it is more than okay. it's what we should expect.

okay, now on to my character based argument. to me, anyone who has this interpretation of QON has severely misjudged Jude's character throughout the series as a whole.

it's true, Jude might put on the facade of tough scary lady with sword–and sure, to a certain extent that is part of her. but Jude is not inherently wicked or menacing or unforgiving, even if she can be at times.

just because we can be a thing doesn't mean we are that thing. mere adjectives simply do not have the breadth to define us, your honours. we exist in multitudes, or however the fuck that Walt Whitman quote goes.

i'm not going to comb through the entire series for moments where Jude is not scary or menacing because, frankly, there are a lot. if you're not actively looking for the moments where she is terrifying, i think you'll see her kindness, her gentleness, even at times her grace, quite plainly.

i'd also like to point out that the times in which Jude is any of those scarier things are all when she is literally terrified for her life. it's a survival tactic. be scared or be the scariest thing in the room. easy choice from where i'm standing.

now in terms of Jude's exile, Cardan is a little dumb here, but not in the fanon himbo Cardan way. just in the normal "dude madly in love" way. by exiling her to the mortal world, he thought he was giving her what she wanted: safety and a clever riddle to solve. because she can't break, right?

he also sent her away for selfish reasons. her safety was more absolute in the mortal world and he couldn't risk losing her again. plus, he wanted to show off his cleverness, smug prick that he is.

but what Jude actually wanted were the things he promised her in his vows: to be the Queen of Elfhame, and, ultimately, him. she wanted a place to call home and Cardan by her side. he took the only things she truly desired in the world away from her by exiling. so yeah, homegirl has every right to be sad.

to close, i think people with this perspective of QON have the same view of Jude as Cardan once did, and it comes from a place of well-intentioned misunderstanding. he thought she could not break. so did the anti-QON crowd.

they were wrong.

–Em 🖤🗡

more thoughts on Emotional!Jude

more theories & analysis

[crapitskizaru]

Kidbad™️ x Reader (Sinbad!Eustass Kid)

I thinks after many glorious kidbad edits we need a scenario with his s/o from the movie 😂.Maybe the part when the island comes to life when they stoped to repair and arguining I can see them doing that.

Warning: dumbass kiddo cuz this is how im trying to comfort myself after dino disaster™️

Word Count: 1,6k

He caressed the ship’s side with affection, as if he was sharing an intimate moment with his lover.

“How did one person do so much damage?” he muttered more to himself than to the dog but Spike responded anyway, wiggling his tail enthusiastically. 

“You like them, don’t you?” Kid couldn’t help but pat the dog’s back. “You damn traitor.”

The island they temporarily stopped at seemed promising - at least from afar. They determined there should be enough wood to repair the damages; even though Kid knew the ship would have been fine without any renovations, his eyes hurt whenever they landed on broken pieces of once-impressive and, far more important, expensive mahogany carvings lying around the deck. 

“All right, listen up. We’re here for ten minutes,” Killer announced. “You get lost, you get left.” 

With a deep sigh, the captain gathered himself from the floor. His crew was already leaving the ship, mostly to feel a steady ground beneath their feet. Repairing their captain’s beloved ship was one of the lowest points on their list of priorities, but Kid couldn’t complain - as long as they brought the essential materials. 

“So I’m going to need a full set of chisels, the jack plane, and about a cord of cut wood.” 

“You heard the captain. Find some logs and be quick about it.” Killer grabbed a bucket and started getting off the ship himself. He wanted to add some comforting words at the sight of Kid’s pained expression when the man discovered yet another scratch on the ship’s side.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Your voice made Kid flinch halfway through patting the damaged railing. “You only need a little tree sap, and she’ll be as good as new.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll-” he stopped abruptly when you jumped onto the island’s ground, ignoring his words, a bucket in hand. “Hey, hey, hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Kid tried to suppress the incoming wave of anger when all of the response he got from you was silence - and your back turned to him. 

“Well, fine. At least take someone with y-” 

Words got stuck in his throat and got smothered away as soon as he spotted the rest of his crew surrounding you, stupid grins plastered on their faces.

“Why, thank you,” you chimed, putting on a little act just to see the hateful expression of your captain’s. “How nice to see some men haven’t forgotten a little common courtesy.” 

Killer was about to leave the ship but he stopped at the sound of someone gritting their teeth. 

“Common courtesy,” Kid muttered. “Not so fast, Killer.” 

“But you know they’re right. The tree sap would be perfect for-” 

“Just. Stay with the ship.” 

Kid didn’t like the suppressed sigh of his first mate - this kind of sigh a parent lets out when their child keeps whining to get a new toy. Kid didn’t like the island either; the sun was shining just too brightly, the trunks of trees too thin to make use of, the ground far too dry. 

And them. Still accompanied by Kid’s dumb mates, they wandered around with that annoying, innocent expression on their face. Kid struggled to keep up on the steep hill of the island. 

“I already said ‘thank you’!” he yelled after the group. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” 

“It’s about repairing the ship.” You approached the first tree you could lay your eyes on. “If I break something, I fix it. Um, knife, please.” 

“Oh, yeah, like I’d give you a weapon?” 

Never before had Kid felt so betrayed by his crew than at that moment. The knives they always spent so much time on sharpening were now eagerly offered up to literally the worst person that ever walked on the planet. 

“Thank you, Heat,” you smirked flirtatiously and grabbed his knife. It took a lot of effort, but eventually you managed to cut through the tree’s bark and catch the flowing stream of its sap into the bucket. 

“You know, you really need to be more courteous, captain. He, he.” Heat didn’t get a chance to react when his captain’s fist landed directly on his face, sending him backward. 

“Oh, great,” Kid murmured. “Now I’m getting etiquette lessons from a fried bilge rat.” 

“Well, they did save the ship, captain.” 

“Why, thank you, Wire.” 

“And now they’re helping to fix it!”

“Very handy, I say. And brave-” 

“This...disaster of a person wouldn’t know how to fix a broken fingernail!” Kid snarled, waves of heat circulating through his chest. They already destroyed his ship, stole his crew, even his dog, with their stupid remarks and bravery. And charms. And their quick wits. And-

“Honestly, you’re the most boorish, pig-headed man I’ve ever met,” they complained, piercing him with a glare. 

“Oi, kitten. I’ve seen the highborn boys your type hangs out with...and I’m the only man you’ve ever met.”

By the shocked gasps his crew must have faked, Kid figured he may have gone too far - his worries evaporating in a speed of light as soon as a bucket hit the back of his head, cold, slimy liquid running down his spine. 

He turned around with a smirk. Did they really want to start a fight with him? 

“Oh, no. No, no-” You had to stop and close your mouth so that you wouldn’t swallow a missile of stinky mud which hit your face with surprising strength, making you stumble. 

He was unbearable. He was awful. He was just the worst.

“You...you...” You searched for an accurate adjective while wiping the mud off of your face. “Egoistical...” 

“You spoiled...” 

“-disrespectful,” A particular, and also quite unfortunate, lobster crawling around seemed just right to be used as a projectile so you picked it up. “Pretentious, pompous-”

“Deluded!” Kid shook his goggles to get rid of the tree sap inside of them. “High and mighty...” 

But you were already too pumped up to care about anything he wanted to say, now throwing every little, or not so little, thing that had been unlucky to lay within close proximity. “-self-centered, untrustworthy, ungrateful, impossible, insufferable...” 

“At least I’m not repressed!” Kid yelled, finally stopping your rant. 

“Repressed?” The question ended up being gritted through your teeth. “I’ll show you repressed!” 

You snatched a plank from the ground - it must have been attached to a root, but the boiling anger in your gut gave you a surge of strength as you lifted it up and was about to poetically slap your captain across the face and knock away that stupid expression. 

But before you made your new dream come true, the ground shivered underneath your feet. 

“What the...?” 

All the trees and bushes suddenly disappeared, as if sucked into the island. You were blinded by a sudden light and a lantern, a huge ball of white, moved towards your group. 

“Put it back,” Kid ordered, separating the words, and for once - you listened. 

If the island turned out to be an enormous sea creature...Your chances of making it back to the ship were dropping with each second. 

The ground moved again, revealing an eyeball the size of a swimming pool; and it was staring straight at you. 

“Ew!” you couldn’t help but flinch. 

“Ew!” Heat grimaced as he lost his balance and fell right onto the eye, landing on a slimy substance. “Ew!” he exclaimed once again when Spike started to lick the mucus with awful enthusiasm. 

“Run!” Kid’s roar snapped you out of the paralysis as all of your crewmates - including you - suddenly discovered their hidden talent in sprinting with the speed of light. “It’s a fucking fish! Killer!” 

You were far too scared to care about Kid practically shouting into your ear, your legs seemingly lifting you off the ground and into the air, gusts of wind blowing around your whole frame. 

Kid noticed the gap between the fish’s flipper and its body before you did. “Jump!” 

And so you jumped, not paying attention to how wide the gap was - for all you cared, it could be the size of the Grand Canyon and you would have still taken a leap - what mattered was getting to the ship in one piece and sailing away. 

You lost your balance on the other side, stumbling forward and into the arms of the most annoying man on Earth. But he did soften your landing, so you sent him a thankful smile. 

He was about to say something but you were soon whooshed away by the rest of the crew making it through the precipice, all of you sliding down the fish’s side - you were blinded by speed, tearing up, the rush of air knocking the breath out of your lungs. 

With the corner of your eye, you noticed Killer guiding the ship in your direction. 

Thank you, God, for Killer, you managed to think before you were once again launched into the air. 

You were already starting to worry about getting your face smashed into the wooden deck before a pair of arms caught you, and you found yourself in the embrace of the worst captain the world had ever seen. But you wouldn’t ever swap him for any other captain, no way. 

Landing on two feet beside Killer, you and Kid watched in awe as the giant fish moved from its previous spot, preparing to swim away and sending a whole wave of salty ocean water into the deck of the ship. 

As the fish submerged, only the creaking of the railing and the annoyed groans of the crew disturbed the silence. 

“I don’t know about you,” Kid panted slightly, taunting you with a raised eyebrow. “But I ain’t ever doing this shit again.” 

[chocopiepkg]

my (live) thoughts while watching the ciontu stream

- starting the show with the seimei music is such a power move

- all the skaters ended with the seimei pose!! that’s #solidarity right there

- jOHNNY WEIR LOOKS LIKE A FLAMINGO

- evgeni complimenting yuzu and yuzu blushing in response.... reblog if u agree

- they keep bringing up the 4A.... please just let my son rest

- //chants// yuzuiver yuzuiver yuzuiver

- i need yuzu’s “bye-bye” as my new phone ringtone or something it was beautiful

- shae-lynn is so gorgeous?? what a wonderful lady

- how does yuzu fit into a costume from when he was like... 16... i cant even fit into my jeans from yesterday

- cHOPIN BALLADE STEP SEQUENCE HELLO

- even without jumps his programs are fantastic?!?!? what kinda sorcery

- (god dammit i really need to learn japanese)

- parisienne walkways just became the best yuzu program. this is a fact.

- WAIT THAT WAS ALL INTERMISSION??? i... had no clue

- (yeah i really need to learn japanese)

- why didn’t i order a ciontu shirt :(( the design looks so cool

- yuzu describing the different good-luck wishes he gives to each of his coaches (shaking brian’s hand, giving ghislain a high-five, bowing to shae-lynn) was so adorable i love this man

- BANDANA YUZURU

- weir’s skating to radiohead’s creep!!! love that song but do not love that red curtain thing weir is wearing :/

- THE RETURN OF ROMEO AND JULIET COSTUME + SKATE <33

- yuzuru literally did the :O face wHAT A BEAN

- stop making him talk right after skating jeez poor guy needs to catch his breath (also hes sweating so much someone get him a towel and some water)

- whenever yuzuru skates he transforms into this savage beast and ?!?! hes literally unbeatable,,, truly GOAT

- SEIMEI SEIMEI SEIMEI SEIMEI SEIMEI god i am nOT READY FOR THIS if yuzuru doesn’t skate part of the routine for seimei i will sCREAM

- tHankYoU fiGURE skATinG gODS for blessing us with a seimei step sequence

- yuzuru literally peace-d out so fast after that tho LMAO i guess he’s prepping for the finale??

- fINALE?? ITS ALMOST OVER????

- yuzuru’s white costume literally blinded me (hES SUCH AN ANGEL) im starting to think he has a thing for sequins and shiny things

- he gave soft hugs to everyone!! what a kind n beautiful soul (how many adjectives can u even use to describe one person??) he even gave thanks to the commentators!

- i keep thinking hes on the brink of tears??? hes either just really sweaty or like... i honestly cant tell

- now yuzu’s gonna disappear off the face of the earth for 4 months :(( HOPEFULLY HE’LL ACTUALLY RECOVER THO AND STOP TRYIN TO THROW 4AS MY CHILD NEEDS TO REST

- in the post-show interview someone finally got him a towel and water bottle. not all heroes wear capes!

- TL;DR: yuzuru got really sweaty and ciontu ruined me

[danfanciesphil]

Prompt where they fight or smthng and phil leaves for a walk and comes back to dan playing his song on the piano?

very cute, i really like this one

xx

EDIT: I realised just as i started writing this that you specified ‘his [phil’s] song’ - so i am now assuming you’re talking about the song dan wrote for him in Birthday Sex? Sorry if that isn’t what you meant haha, but i dont know of a song irl that dan would play for phil that could be classed as ‘his song’ (thought im sure there are several) 

hope this is all ok! and thank you

Prompts are temporarily closed for the time being! Thank you all for your submissions, I’ll be posting the ones I have in my inbox asap!

“I just don’t think it’s very fair of you to blindside me with all the shitty stuff from our past without some kind of warning!” Dan protests, throwing his flat keys down on to the dining room table. He shrugs his coat off, irritated, and throws it onto a nearby chair. “In front of all our friends!”

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to shove all that stuff to one side and never think about it again?” Phil asks, sounding incredulous. Dan rolls his eyes at the theatrical way Phil is behaving. “I’m never allowed to bring it up, or speak about it, or think about it in case it makes you feel guilty and miserable for a split second, is that right?”

“Obviously that’s not what I’m saying, Phil.” Dan says icily, crossing his arms. “You don’t have to be so... so...”

“So what?” Phil prompts, one hand curled around his own set of keys, still. 

Dan just glares, lips pressed into a thin slash across his chin. He’s not going to finish that sentence. It won’t do either of them any good; besides, they’ve both had a couple of glasses of wine. 

They’ve been out for a meal at a posh sushi place for Hazel’s birthday. It’s a place they know well, a menu they’ve ordered from frequently, and friends that they both enjoy being around. 

Dan has no idea why, on this occasion, things turned sour. Out of all the many ways Phil could have answered Louise’s innocent, funny question of ‘what’s the worst pick-up line you’ve tried on someone?’, he had to say ‘well, that’s a difficult one because for the last eight years I've been desperately in love with someone who made it extremely clear they didn’t want me back until very recently. So, I haven’t tried out an actual pick up line in forever.’

His answer had stunned the table into an awkward hush. Dan had been so taken aback by the nonchalant way in which Phil casually dropped this information into the lighthearted conversation - with people who know absolutely nothing about it, save for Louise - that he’d actually choked on an edamame bean. 

They all knew, of course, that Phil was talking about Dan. They must have. 

Suddenly, remembering the stunted, jolty attempts people were forced to make to kickstart the conversation again, to move it into safer territory, Dan doesn’t feel quite so generous. 

He decides to finish his sentence, after all. 

“You don’t have to be so childish about this whole thing.” Dan says before he can think it through properly. “It’s over now. We’re married, we’re together, you have me. Why are you insisting on picking at the scabs? And without even so much as a hint to me beforehand that it’s on your mind at all!” 

“Childish?” Phil repeats, his voice soft and hurt. 

Dan’s heart sinks, and he regrets the choice of adjective immediately. “No, well, no-”

But it’s too late to take it back. The word hangs in the air, taunting them both. 

Dan scrambles to think of a way to repair the situation, but he’s not fast enough. Phil, still wearing his coat, turns back the way he came, keys still clasped in his fist, and walks out of the door. 

Fuck. 

---

Phil has no idea where he’s going. He hadn’t really thought further ahead than getting out of the flat before the argument turned even nastier. 

That’s the problem with arguing with Dan; he’s a hothead. He can’t seem to catch the words in his mind long enough to think them through, he just spits them out, harsh and unfiltered, then regrets it. 

The wind whips against him, and Phil draws the lapels of his coat around himself a little tighter. He’d been so looking forward to getting back home after the dinner tonight. They’d left the heating on, and Phil had been feeling pleasantly tipsy all evening until it got awkward. He’d been thinking about how, later, he could drag a wine-sweetened Dan underneath the covers, kiss him in all the places that made him squirm until neither of them felt the cold anymore. 

He sighs, taking a random turning into a side street he’s never walked down before. He wonders if he should put his hood up or something, as the worst thing would be getting recognised right now. It’s unlikely to happen, though, in the dark. 

Childish. 

That was the word Dan had used to describe him. It echoes through the wide, hollow rooms of Phil’s usually thriving brain, echoing off the cold, stone walls. 

Is that truly how Dan perceives him? Immature and thoughtless? Attention-seeking, maybe? Or sulking, to get his way? 

A shiver runs through his body, and his teeth begin to chatter. He steps through the milky, pale yellow splash of light from an overhead streetlamp, glad of the fleeting absence of darkness. 

He hadn’t meant to say what he did, when he answered Louise. He didn’t think. It’s not like him to say things without thinking, either - but he supposes being around Dan so much must mean he picks up on some of his habits, both good and bad. 

Just now, Dan had said that Phil had blindsided him with the answer. That he’d failed to let Dan know that it was playing on his mind, and that if he’d pulled Dan aside, maybe tried to talk it through a little, things would have been okay. 

But Dan doesn’t understand. The ‘Birthday Sex Era’, as Phil now thinks of it, isn’t something that fleetingly pops into his head now and again. He’s thinking of it always. There’s never a moment that it’s not there, stubborn and loud, a great sea-monster lurking in the ocean of Phil’s love for Dan, its tentacles protruding into every single memory they have as a pair. 

Phil isn’t able to just carve the Birthday Sex monster away. It’s too entwined in what they are, in what they were. It’s part of him, and it’s part of Dan, and it’s a part of both of them, together. 

So, when the delicious Californian white wine is flowing, and Phil is comfortable and relaxed around his favourite, trusted friends, it’s only natural that he’ll answer something asked of him with total honesty. It just so happens that the honest answer he gave tonight was one that the Birthday Sex monster has wrapped itself around. Phil couldn’t help but tell Louise the truth. And the truth had been that Phil, for a long time, was simply not interested in ‘picking up’ anyone but Dan, and that Dan had - somewhat cruelly - encouraged this. 

Two shadowy figures turn into the street, starting to walk towards him. Phil is wearing his contacts, but he still can’t really make them out. Not wanting to linger too long in a deserted, back street with two unfamiliar strangers late at night, Phil turns, walking briskly back the way he came. 

It’s freezing tonight, anyway. Phil’s had a little walk to gather his thoughts. 

It’s time to go home. 

---

Phil tries to unlock the door quietly, half hoping the inevitable confrontation can be postponed a little longer, until he’s shucked off his coat and shoes, at least. 

He manages to stay quiet as he lets himself in, and takes his time about removing his outer garments. He runs a hand through his hair, shuddering as his body soaks up the warmth of the flat, and sighs. 

Belatedly, he realises he can hear a soft, enchanting melody, seeping through the floorboards of the upstairs hallway. Intrigued, as ever, by Dan’s decision to play the piano, Phil follows the haunting tune.

Strangely, as he pads up the stairs, Phil realises that he’s humming along. He pauses in his step, head cocked to listen harder when he deduces that he actually knows this particular song. 

He shuts his eyes, still humming as he tries in vain to place it. Is it a video game theme song, he wonders? Dan is very fond of learning every score of the Final Fantasy soundtrack. But somehow Phil knows it isn’t that, this time. 

His brain aches in protest, complaining that it’s too befuddled with alcohol and post-argument tension to work out what the song is. 

Phil rolls his eyes at his own mind, then continues up the stairs, deciding he’ll just have to remember to ask Dan once they’ve resolved this little tiff. 

It’s as Phil approaches their bedroom, that it dawns on him. The realisation tumbles over him in a gush, and he sucks in a breath, stopping in his tracks. He stands in the doorway, not daring to move in case he interrupts. 

Watching Dan play is a performance in itself, regardless of the music he produces. His back is straight, just as his evil teacher drilled into him that it must be all that time ago. His fingers dance, light as petals skimming the surface of a lake, over the keys. 

Dan hasn’t noticed Phil’s arrival, he’s sure. 

The tune begins soft, then sweeps into a whirlwind of complexity, soaring into something so swooping, so magnificent, so deep and vibrant and pure that it sends Phil’s stomach crashing to the floor. 

After a while, it peters out, trilling gently, teasing the growing quiet with more until it stops entirely. 

Dan hunches forwards, his forehead pressing against the stand as his fingers curl into fists. 

“I haven’t heard you play that in a while,” Phil says, trying to keep his voice soft so he won’t startle Dan, but the younger man jumps anyway, spinning to face him. 

There are obvious, shiny tear-tracks over his cheeks.  

“Phil,” he breathes, clearly amazed, “you’re- you’re back.” 

Phil shrugs, shuffling into the room a little. “Where else would I go?”

Dan is silent for a minute, his top teeth trapping his lower lip like he’s trying to button his mouth closed. It doesn’t work. The words burst out anyway, tumbling from his lips in a messy, unprocessed garble.

“I’msosorry-”Dan starts, eyes desperate. “I just- like, I don’t even know why I would say that- I don’t- obviously I don’t think you’re childish, but youknowwhatI’mlike-”

“Dan.” Phil interrupts, gently. 

“And especially after drinking- like, I knew I should’ve said no to that second glass, but-”

“Dan, stop,” Phil urges, moving towards him. 

Sitting down on the piano stool, scooted up against Dan’s side seems to startle him into silence, so Phil takes the opportunity to speak. 

“I’m not really sure who’s right or wrong here.” He confesses, shrugging one shoulder. 

Dan rolls his eyes. “Come on, Phil, there’s no need to become a martyr just because I’m getting a bit weepy-”

Phil smiles, brushing a thumb under each of Dan’s eyes, rubbing away the moisture collected there. “I’m not being a martyr.” Phil turns to face him as much as possible on the stool, trying to get the words straight in his head. “I just think that this - our situation - is a peculiar one. I don’t quite know how to handle it best, y’know?”

Dan nods, chewing his lip again. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to be constantly on edge in case I spring a guilt trip on you from nowhere,” Phil says, completely honest about this. “But I also don’t really know how to deal with all the leftover... stuff still inside me from that time. The Birthday Sex time.”

“What kind of ‘stuff’?” Dan asks cautiously, sounding like he doesn’t really want to know the answer. Honestly, Phil is pretty sure Dan won’t like the answer either. 

Phil swallows. “Hurt. Anger. Heartbreak. Insecurity. Anxiety.” Phil swallows again. “You know. Stuff.”

Dan takes a deep breath, but nods again, seeming to understand. “So... you’re saying that ‘stuff’ might sort of... leak out at random, inconvenient times?”

Phil quirks a smile at him. “I’m going to try really, really hard not to let that happen. I don’t want to hurt you, or cause arguments. And you’re right, y’know? What you said earlier - it’s over. I have you now.”

His hand travels absent-mindedly to Dan’s hip, ducking beneath the jumper he’s wearing until his fingers skim the tattoo he knows is inked there. 

Dan shakes his head. “I was a prat earlier. Please don’t take any of what I said to heart.”

Phil chuckles at him, and Dan gives him a serious look.

“No, seriously Phil.” He says, making Phil chuckle more. “If anyone’s a fucking child around here it’s me. I’m the one who threw a god damn bitch fit at you for bringing up your own perfectly valid feelings of betrayal. I mean, what right do I have to yell at you for that when it’s all my fault you ever felt that awful to begin wi-”

Phil kisses him to shut him up, mostly, but also because he’s tipsy and sad and bullying himself for things he’s apologised for so many times. Sometimes, the best way to draw Dan out of his own abusive head is to remind him how much he is loved, despite whatever he may think of himself. 

When Phil draws away, there’s a surprised, sweet expression on Dan’s pretty face. Phil smiles at the sight of it, curling his hand into Dan’s jumper. 

“Your playing was so lovely,” Phil tells him wistfully. 

Dan ducks his head, smiling bashfully. “Thanks. I think that’s the only thing I can play without any mistakes.” 

“Will you play it again?” Phil asks, resting his head on Dan’s shoulder.

Dan pretends to look exasperated, rolling his eyes. “You’re requesting your own song for the second time?”

Phil nods, beaming, and Dan shakes his head fondly, but kisses him nonetheless. He places his hands over the keys, and Phil lights up, settling down to listen, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“As if I could ever say no.” Dan murmurs, then starts to play.

[fretruck]

I just remembered the part in episode 9 (attack on titan), where we are shown how Eren turned into a titan and how he felt after being eaten and I noticed the soundtrack in the background (Vogel im Käfig) and the lyrics of it and wanted to share my thoughts on it and how it was fantastically put together. So here you go.

Alles Lebendige stirbt eines Tages.  (Everything that lives dies someday.)

This is the line the soundtrack starts with as we see Eren surrounded by death bodies while he is inside the titan he got eaten by. Eren is, of course, shocked, well no surprise there, who wouldn’t be. But I think the purpose was to show the naive Eren, who thought every one of his friends and him could survive, that, indeed, everything that lives dies someday. And what’s more convincing then actual dead bodies? 

Ob wir zum Sterben, bereit sind oder nicht. Der Tag kommt sicher. (It doesn’t matter if we are ready to die or not. They day this will happened, will surely occur.)

And at this moment we see Eren be like: “No that’s not supposed to be like this” and how everyone who died alongside him, should be alive as they have trained all those years to be prepared for fighting those giant ass titans. But like the line in the songs beautifully says. Syke. Doesn’t matter if you ready or not, death will come. And it did with Thomas, Mina, everyone else and Eren. Or at least Eren thought he was done for as he didn’t know he was a Titan just yet.

Ist das der Engel, der vom dämmenden Himmel hinunter flog? (Is this the angel who flew down from the twilight sky?) Ist das der Teufel der aus der Felsenspalte heraus kroch? (Is this the devil who crawled out of the crevice?)

Ok, in this scene we see Armin, the Titan who consumed Eren and a girl dying in front of Eren in the Titan’s stomach. Great, isn’t it? Well, to be honest, I am not all too sure, but I think the Titan is supposed to represent the Devil and Armin is like the angel, since he was the person that enlightened Eren about the outside world and arouse his interest with his sparkling eyes like Eren mentioned in the manga once. Like you know, saying that Armin was literally the angel that flew down to Eren from the twilight sky to give him a reason to live since we have been told that Eren was a kid that sat outside all day long watching the sky (I mean, I can’t really blame him, the sky in snk is g8) without thinking, maybe being depressed a little bit, just like a mindless titan in some kind of way or some deep shit like that. And it was that exact moment Armin came running to him with the book he found in his granddad’s study and took Eren out of his daze.

And like I said before, the Titan is probably the Devil, because you know they eat people and take their lives and shit. (And SPOILER: because Ymir Fritz made a deal with the devil so her people (Eldians) can become titans or at least that’s how the Marleys foretell the story. So Titan = Devil). 

Also, the girl could be crawling out of the blood? This part isn’t that important, it’s just something I have noticed.

Tränen. Ärger. Mitleid. Grausamkeit. Friede. Chaos. Glaube. Verrat. (Tears. Anger. Pity. Cruelty. Peace. Chaos. Faith. Betrayal.)

Tränen: We see Eren’s mom (God fucking dammit, Carla didn’t deserve this shit.) and it sounds like he is about to start crying. Which he after a few seconds does. 

Ärger: He gets angry like always. He is like: “I will kill them all”. Like always.

Mitleid: am not completely certain about that but in his monolog, he says that everything has been taken from them and he is kinda’ pitying himself I think.

Grausamkeit: They show the scene from episode one again, where his mom gets eaten again. So it’s pretty obvious to me that that’s cruelty.

Then there is also this whole peace, chaos, faith and betrayal thing, which doesn’t happen in this episode but if you watch other episodes, you will understand what they mean by that and since I was planning on focusing on this episode specifically and I should be studying, I will not go further and spread the meaning of the song into the whole series, sorry? 

All in one he is feeling all those emotions and it almost seems like he accepted the statements the song has begun with in the beginning. Like you are going to die someday, even if you are Eren Jäger and his crew. And he even falls to his knees and cries. Almost, accepting everything. aLMOST!

Wir werden gegen unser Schicksal ankämpfen. (We will fight against out destiny/fate.) Wir dürfen uns nicht unserem Schicksal ergeben. (We must not give into our fate/destiny.)

And when this exact line is sung by Cyua, Eren stands up again and those emotions all turn into anger and he refuses to accept that he is going to die here. Even though he is in a stomach without an arm and a leg, screaming that he will drive them out of this world with his own hands (jokes on you Eren, you are raising your arm up which doesn’t have a hand no more). But the main point is that he refuses to give into his fate, that he is supposed to die here and basically says that destiny can suck his ass. And it zooms out off Eren and we’re like: Ok maybe he will die. But then boom: eREN IS A TITAN. SIE SIND DAS ESSEN UND WIR SIND DIE JÄGER FOR REALZ. Cuz Mr. Jäger is about to hunt those titans down.

Mit Trauer und Entscheidung im Herzen, zeigen wir den Willen weiterzugehen. (With sorrow and decision in our hearts, we show the will to move on.)

Sidenote: I have seen a few people translate Entscheidung into confidence which is wrong, but I get why they do it because how the hell can a decision be in your heart. The writer of this song probably meant that the decision is made because you do what the heart desires.

The Rogue Titan. That’s what we see now. Eren didn’t give into his fate. He should have died and he would have died if he had given up even though he has the Titan-Power within him. We all know that he needs a reason to turn into a Titan, he can’t just half-ass it. And this decision to accept the feelings of sorrow and anger (aNGER) gave him a reason to not give up and move on, even though every normal person would have thought they’re dead for good. But Eren’s stubborn mindset actually saved him. And I think it also shows us how he matured in some kind of way. He moves on because he accepts the feelings he has because of the death of his mom, Thomas and friends and that helps him turn into a titan. And then he screams like: “yEAH, I WILL MOVE AND LIFE ON.”

Niemand darf eigensinning seines Lebens beraubt werden. (No one shall be stubbornly? deprived of their life.)

Sidenote: Eigensinning means something like going against the reasonable perception and I am not sure what they wanted to express with this word. I think they actually mean the sentence without this adjective but wanted to use it because it sounded pretty? Idk fam.

And in the end, Eren fights the titans who took the lives of many innocent soldiers and people. He fights for the people who got deprived of their lives and says that he will kill every one of those titans. So, in a way take their lives, which is kind of ironic. But this whole shit is ironic. 

Then he goes full Psycho-Titan-Eren mode and…

“I’ll kill you all.”

[boythirteen]

I finished the sermon if you have time to read it. The title is “To know you is to love you.”

Hello Everyone.

Today is Stonewall Sunday. We commemorate the transgender warriors who Rose and Resisted at the Stonewall Bar in the summer of 1969. Thank you Rev. Pat for asking me to preach today. I’m proud to be a transgender person, a child of God and of Sylvia Rivera who claimed all the wayward trans children as her own. Maybe I’m not half as wayward as when Sylvia squeezed us all into her pew, or maybe I am. Wayward means stubborn, not lost. I had to look it up to better decide if I was or not. It happens to be a far-reaching word with a wide array of companion adjectives to describe it. It means capricious, ornery, perverse, whimsical, ungovernable, and rebellious, among a host of other synonyms. The wayward transpeople at Stonewall decided one day to insist they were worthy just as they were, and maybe this was a collectively capricious response to oppression as opposed to one borne of unwavering conviction. Capricious means inconstant, volatile, temperamental, unpredictable—words that could describe a faith journey, or my faith journey anyway. I believe in myself as a worthy Child of God but also have grave doubts about it. I don’t know for sure if I’ll rise up as God’s beloved trans son or hang my head and think I’m unwelcome among the authentically real. I know that when others rise up it helps me to rise up, too. We gather together to rise up. The slogan for Pride this year is Be Proud! Rise! Resist! Repeat! It says “repeat.” Rising and Resisting aren’t constants but are things we get to do again.

In the Gospel reading from John, Jesus rose and resisted in the temple. He did this in an unexpectedly fitful and reactive way. The temple was the singular place where God was believed to dwell. Pilgrims had come to the temple to celebrate the Passover. The money changers were there to exchange the pilgrims’ Roman coins into Jewish ones for paying the temple tax. Animals were being sold to serve as required sacrifices for entry into the deeper and holier rooms of temple, those nearer to the center, to the ark of the covenant and to God. The religious authorities controlled this access to God, their mechanisms of control being rooted in a presumption of superiority and moral authority, as well as in base human greed. They were selling nearness to God, and at a cost that was prohibitive for those deemed unworthy or simply too poor. Jesus was mad about it! He rose up in anger at these false barriers to worthiness and to God. He lashed out with an actual whip. He drove away the animals and scattered the coins and flipped the tables and screamed. I can imagine Sylvia Rivera exploding in just this stunning way. When asked by the shocked observers to explain his wild behavior, Jesus answered with a cryptic statement about the temple being destroyed and raised again in three days, which sounded outrageous to everyone. The passage from John qualifies Jesus’ assertion by saying “but Jesus was speaking of the temple of his body,” an allusive insight formed in the aftermath of Jesus’s crucifixion and resurrection on the third day. The more applicable meaning I’ve learned (from having heard many MCCNY sermons about this verse) is that Jesus was tearing down the notion of the temple as God’s literal and sole dwelling place. Rather than being an external stone and mortar edifice, Jesus was defining God’s temple as being the human body, and thereby affirming a just and equitable access to the God who resides inside of us. The barriers erected by religious authorities and societal customs are rendered meaningless when each of us houses Divinity.

The barriers I confront, then, are those I impose on myself.

Have you ever watched a show on Netflix called Sense8? I think it’s wonderful. I could probably make the whole sermon be about it but you should just watch it yourself. But I do need to tell you that it’s about love and diversity and being known and sharing of yourself and strength in unity. Or that’s what it’s about to me. It’s about how to Rise and Resist. I read that it may be cancelled which would be terrible. But something that happened in one of the episodes made an impression on me that fits in the sermon. It was more of an aside than anything integral to the story, but one of the characters was on a plane and a hippie kind of woman across the aisle engaged her in a brief conversation. The hippie woman wasn’t actually there in the flesh, but that’s the kind of thing that happens in the show. In any case, she was telling the other woman that she used to be the same as her in this way of believing that she could change the world, but she’d learned over time and grave experience that the only changes she could actually make were to herself. And as she was saying these things she seemed to take on an aspect of holiness or wisdom that was irrefutable and so to be believed. And then she kind of disappeared. I don’t know why this struck me so deeply, her message about only being able to change oneself. It’s something I’ve heard many times before and am not sure I even agree with. The character in the show didn’t agree and said so. What is a Rise and Resist movement for if not to collectively change the world? What I do feel about changing myself, though, is that it’s a first step and is something manageable in a less unwieldy way than changing the world, and so is an alleviator of stress, or a lowering of an obstacle to God. It’s comforting and challenging at the same time. I can dive right in without any need for consensus or organization. As an introverted person, this is a relief. I can delve in on my own and work hard at it. Or maybe not exactly on my own but with me and God and whatever guidance I’ve garnered from people who don’t need to be actually present for me to implement it. I want to get to the bottom of it. What is it in me that needs changing? What is it that blocks me from God? If being close to God is knowing myself to be God’s beloved child and so be aligned with the divinity inside of me, what is it that makes me doubt this?

Several years ago I participated in a series of classes here called Creating a Life that Matters. I don’t know if this still exists as an MCC program and don’t have time to detail it, but many of the methods we used to deepen our awareness of ourselves are things I continue to practice. One of these was called the Iceberg Person. I think it’s a Freudian technique that was adapted for the class. I’ve probably adapted it, too, to fit my need for it, but this is sort of how it works: The top part of the iceberg, the part above the water that is visible to other people, is my behavior that appears to indicate who I am. But underneath the water level is a whole huge mass of me that is invisible to others but is informing my visible self. So if I’m trying to get to the bottom of something in me, I can look at my behavior and then ask myself questions, increasingly probing ones, to go deeper inside my being and increase my self-awareness. The question I’m asking myself is why I ever doubt that I’m a child of God. But this question is already under the surface of my behavior, so the behavior that initiates the question would be, for me, being isolated in some intentional way, or choosing not to participate in community with others. This is a broad, generalized example but I’m just giving an overview. The first question I could ask myself about being isolated would be about my underlying attitude that prompts it. I know I would feel defensive and would cast about for reasons to justify myself or excuse my dismissal of others. I would say: because they’re loud and demanding of attention and I’m quiet and a loner and need to think. But then I could ask myself what I would wish for in my social interactions that would fulfill me. And probably I would like it if I felt that others were attentive to me. So why don’t I think that others would be attentive to me? Because it feels competitive and maybe I wouldn’t win. Because I’m not as good. Why am I not as good? Because I’m bad. And I have reasons about why I’m bad that Im not sharing today but I feel ashamed. And maybe situations or people in my earlier life have instilled this shame in me, or maybe it’s just mine. This exercise isn’t about why I feel it but simply that I do. And that I feel it so deeply that I fear I’m unloveable and will be ostracized if I dare to participate. Or this is part of what I feel, the dark part—that I’ll suffer this ultimate humiliation that will make it be written in stone that I’m gross. And if I’m ostracized or cut off from loving community, I’ll shrivel up and die without any nurturance at all. And so I’m reluctant to begin the process of participating because maybe I won’t survive it.  

In the gospel reading, the last part, John writes about many people believing in Jesus “because they saw the signs that he was doing.” The next verse says: “But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.” It says that Jesus knows what’s inside of us. He can see right through us. So he knew that many of those who were believing in him because of his miracle-working weren’t truly of the faithful, deep down. They were shallow and drawn to the spectacle. But if Jesus was seeing their depths, or the whole underneath of their iceberg, wouldn’t he see their self-doubts and fears that were inhibiting them, and wouldn’t he have compassion for their internal struggles? And if the whole point of Jesus’s anger about the money changers and animal peddlers was that they were attempting to control access to God, would there be any reason at all that he would seem to write off a group of people as being too shallow to be trusted with his confidence? Because he knows them and can see their depths. And being fully known or laid bare to divine awareness, which is loving and void of judgement, is the ultimate experience of being fully embraced and accepted.

A few times in my life, after someone close to me has died, I’ve felt a kind of shocking exposure of my innermost self to them. I’ve felt that their spirits can see me completely. Today is Father’s Day, and one of those who has died and can now see inside of me is my father. I wasn’t close to him in life and didn’t actually like him, but now I have this strangely intimate connection to his spirit that knows me. I feel it so deeply sometimes when I’m riding my bike in the traffic. I find myself wanting to impress him with my bike-riding skills. I’m kind of showing off for him. And then I feel him know that I want to impress him. He knows, too, all the ways he made me feel ashamed and unworthy as a child, and how I feel guilty that I didn’t like him but maybe I did and was scared of him. My initial reaction to this experience has been acute self-consciousness, but this has given way to a deeper sense of being understood in the most saving and compassionate way.

If I’m thinking of the iceberg exercise, the underlying desire (as well as greatest fear) of the whole thing, for me, is to be fully known, understood, and accepted for who I am through and through. This would be the very bottom layer. Or the better metaphor would be that it’s the ocean where the iceberg is floating. If the process of digging deeper into myself to get to the bottom of me is an intellectual or psychological discipline, the point where I believe myself to be known, understood, and beloved is where it becomes a spiritual one.  

There’s something about Jesus’s reluctance to “entrust himself,” or to trust others, that seems to reveal Jesus’s own process of self-awareness, his desire to be known and accepted, and his insecurity regarding it. And this is something he could ask himself questions about and dig deep inside to understand. It feels like the human aspect of Jesus that co-exists with his divine awareness. Both of the bible verses for today seem to have this underlying theme of humanness and divinity intersecting in us. Our bodies are temples of God. Moses, the doubtful chosen leader, will be able to lead the people out of bondage because God will be with him. The wayward transgender warriors at Stonewall lead us into freedom because one day they experience themselves as fully, divinely known and beloved.

Something else I feel about Jesus’s humanness, though, his explosive anger and possible instance of insecurity, is that these are occasions of divine empathy— or Jesus’s deepening understanding of the human experience that he’s actually living along with us—and so are ways that we can more fully believe that we’re known through and through. Jesus knows how upsetting this all can be. God knows.

So I need to tell you more about Sense8. The premise of the show is that the characters are connected in a mental, sensual, and emotional way — that they share thoughts and emotions and sensations and know each other through and through. And this is a circumstance of extreme empathy being nurtured among them. They see each other and are seen in their most vulnerable, hidden places, and are unified by this and empowered to be bigger than their individual selves. They rise up for each other and embody one another to share their skills and insights.  

A few weeks ago I listened to the commencement speech that Hillary Clinton gave to the graduating class of Wellesley College. It had lots of notable parts, but something that moved me especially was her speaking of having “failed” in her presidential run. I thought of how this could be considered a shameful thing, like being a “loser” or someone who’d suffered humiliation. And that this was something to fear, like being gross or unworthy. But Hillary was just saying it as something true about her life and claiming it as a circumstance to rise up from. It was something she’d experienced, more than once!, and so was a way that others who’d also experienced failure and possibly shame could feel that they were “known” and accepted, and so be empowered to rise up, too. I thought, then, of how many articles I’ve read that have insisted that Hillary shut up and go away since her reappearance in the public sphere after regrouping in the woods, as if they want her to stop at “failure” and shrivel into nothing. I thought of how part of what these journalists and pundits are telling to go away is just this potential of being known and thereby empowered to rise up and resist. And that their effort is akin to trying to put up a barrier to God and would make Jesus mad. The biggest barrier to God, I’m beginning to believe, is anything that would thwart our experience of being known through and through to the point of knowing ourselves to be beloved. We can’t be fully beloved unless we’re fully known. Experiencing ourselves as “known” is a process of empathy we engage in together. Impedements to this process are the barriers that would stop the Stonewall rebellion from ever happening, the barriers that would inhibit our rising and resisting as worthy children of God.  

And this is the other thing going on in the bible verses—the Rising and Resisting that’s the theme of Pride. Jesus overturns the tables in the temple. God charges Moses to deliver the people from oppression. So many times since the election, since our government became outrageously nativist and intolerant and cruel and bigoted and misogynistic and inane and tacky and revolting, I’ve wondered about the character of resistance and how angry I should be, and what form the anger should take. I’ve thought of Jesus overturning the tables and have kept this story in my heart as an affirmation or permission to be physically angry. I’m not sure that it’s actually permission for punching a Nazi, although I want to, but certainly a follower of Jesus can rise up in a literal, bodily way against actions and policies that deny human rights and criminalize poverty and illness and need and difference. The religious authorities in the temple wanted to dictate who was deserving of communion with God and who wasn’t, just as this administration is drawing a tight, insular line between those it deems worthy of consideration as full human beings and those it doesn’t. I think the determinant in gauging what actions or policies would make Jesus mad is whether or not they attempt to exclude anyone from an equitable sharing of available resources and full participation in life as worthy human beings and divine children of God. Many on the right would say that it isn’t the job of government to ensure equity for the least among us at the expense of those who have “succeeded” at life, or to include those they would consider too wildly divergent in their backgrounds or beliefs. But governments that exclude people are oppressing them by definition, and God wants us to be delivered from oppression.

The problem I’m having is that I’m inclined to conflate anger and hatred. It’s hard not to hate some of the nefarious characters in the political landscape of today. I remember shortly after the election, when everyone was kind of shell-shocked, Rev. Boon preached a sermon about not hating Trump. Maybe you heard it, but it was about recognizing, or allowing for, the struggling humanity in everyone, including Trump, and coming to a spiritual place of accepting him as another child of God among us. Or that’s the meaning that came through to me. And it was something I didn’t want to do just then, although I did understand that it was the deeper spiritual response that would bring us all closer to God. But I was angry and scared, too, for immigrant people mostly, and Muslim people, as they were being set apart right at the onset as those unworthy of even the most basic human consideration. And I believed that this would make Jesus mad. And I felt, then, that I didn’t have the energy to go through whatever spiritual process it would take to find love in my heart for Trump. I needed my energy for outrage. What I did believe, and what I’ve found myself returning to ever since, is that Boon’s sermon was absolutely the spiritual ideal, whether or not I’m ready to aim myself toward it, or whether I ever come close. I need to hold it somewhere in my heart, whatever else I might feel or do. And maybe this will temper what does seem to be hatred I feel for Trump and the whole gang of them. Hopefully it does. One of the lessons of Stonewall, I believe, apart from the lesson of believing in ourselves as worthy children of God, and the other lesson of finding our strength in rising up together, is that we channel our outrage toward loving goals instead of letting it eat us up with hatred. Like how the Sanctuary Cities of our country are forming alliances to share their strengths and commitments to embracing and protecting immigrant communities, or how cities and states are pledging, together, to hold up the Paris Accord on their own, to rise and resist.

The point is to clear the way, however best we can, to nearness to God, for ourselves and others. And clearing the way to God seems to me, now, to be the facilitation of everyone’s experience of Being Known. Maybe that’s what social justice is— securing opportunities for everyone to experience being known. If my spiritual journey hasn’t yet taken me to the place where I can authentically find love in my heart for Trump, where I can know him, maybe I can practice knowing myself more deeply and believing in myself as known. And this will inspire me to share myself with others. And this will enlarge our collective resource of empathy, our most vital resource for ensuring that everyone gets to be known and beloved—to know that they’re known and beloved.

This feels do-able to me. 

Amen