#diocesan

[amcatholic4life]

Difference and Similarities between Diocesan and Religious Priest

The Catholic Church has two main categories of priests: religious priests and diocesan Priests. While both serve crucial roles in the Church and share many similarities, they differ in several key aspects of their vocations, lifestyles, and responsibilities. This article will explore the nature of these two types of priesthood, highlighting their unique characteristics as well as their common…

[bqstqnbruin]

One of the things they don't tell you about becoming a high school teacher is how many letters of recommendation you have to write at any given moment if your students like you help

[dijetemjeseca]

[mikeshouts]

The World’s Smallest Humanoid Robot Has Limbs That Are Mostly Servos

😯😮😲

Follow us for more Tech Culture and Lifestyle Stuff.

[jello-paws]

went on a field trip to a local diocesan museum as part of my Chaucer class & learned a lot about relics, the Middle Ages, and Catholicism.

[fangirlinginleatherboots]

I know i have Reasons and stuff Wrong With Me but I do genuinely want to see the fall of the Vatican in my life time more than anything. I want the library opened and I want the leadership dragged through the streets and the wealth and artifacts redistributed. I want violence and I want the list of names of every bailed out abusive community leader made public :)

Before anyone goes off on this I am ex-catholic with 12+ years of in depth catholic education who was abused within the catholic church and diocesan school system. Do not bitch at me.

[transtheology]

According to Matson, 39, his “disclosing,” as he describes it, is a moment years in the making. He offered his story as indicative of the often difficult path for trans Catholics, including those seeking life as a religious — a category that includes brothers and nuns.

“I am currently based in the Appalachian mountains of eastern Kentucky,” he wrote in an email to friends and supporters on Sunday. “I live in a hermitage at the top of a wooded hill, which I share with my German Shepherd rescue, Odie, and with the Blessed Sacrament, which was installed in my oratory shortly before Christmas.”

[...] Matson approached a canon lawyer to discuss his options and was told that only two aspects of Catholic life were categorically off the table: marriage and the priesthood. According to Matson, the canon lawyer recommended being upfront about his status as a transgender man in any vocational conversations with church leaders and mentioned the role of a diocesan hermit, which could prove less challenging than enlisting with an existing religious order.

[...] What followed was roughly a decade of searching and no small amount of rejection. Living in the United Kingdom while pursuing a master’s degree, and later a Ph.D. in theology, Matson entered a vocational discernment program and approached the Jesuit order to ask if he could join.

“They said, ‘No, we just don’t see how this would work for us,’ which was crushing, because that’s where I felt called,” Matson said.

[...] “I thought, well, if I can’t find a religious community to sponsor me, maybe what I need is a bishop,” Matson said.

A priest friend recommended different bishops to contact, beginning with Stowe, who was emerging as a leading voice among Catholics calling for a more tolerant approach to LGBTQ+ people. In 2020, Matson sent Stowe a letter, conveying his status as a transgender man, his vision for an artists’ community and his pull to religious life.

Stowe wrote back immediately, expressing his openness.

“It was an enormous relief,” Matson said. “I was in tears. I felt my hope revive.”

[...] Matson vented his frustrations to Stowe and his spiritual director, saying he wanted to speak out. But he said he was advised to first “build a foundation” in religious life for several years.

During that time, Matson had an experience that shook him. Attending a friend’s play in his religious habit, he was approached by a student who identified as trans and nonbinary. After asking if Matson was a monk, the student said they were raised Catholic, but that their parents had rejected their identity, and the student felt like they “don’t have a place in the church anymore.”

Matson responded by saying there were people in the church who would support the student, and Matson prayed with them, asking God to show the student how they are “wonderful the way you’ve made them.” The student, Matson said, grew emotional, thanking the hermit profusely and saying, “No one from the church has ever affirmed me for who I am.”

[...] As for ever leaving Catholicism itself, Matson bristled at the idea, calling the church “my family.” “I’m Catholic,” he said. “I became Catholic after I transitioned because of the Catholic understanding — the sacramental understanding — of the body, of creation, of the desirability of the visible unity of the church and primarily because of the Eucharist.”

At the very least, Matson said, he hopes going public will spark dialogue about his fellow transgender Catholics, a discussion he believes can enhance unity among the body of believers.

“You’ve got to deal with us, because God has called us into this church,” he said. “It’s not your church to kick us out of — this is God’s church, and God has called us and engrafted us into it.”

[hauntedfalcon]

OH and I had to text her friend's dad to see which church with that particular name it is because there are two in this town with the same name because you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a "not like all the other churches, we're a ~community~" strip mall church that goes unused for 165 hours a week and doesn't have to pay taxes, all while homeless shelters are overcrowded

my kid really wants to see her best friend’s baptism this morning, so I’m masking up so I don’t breathe in whatever nondenominational-but-dogmatic-in-a-new-way-we-made-up stuff they’ve got going on, and I might bring a bible with the apocrypha just for yuks

[portraitsofsaints]

Happy Feast Day

Saint Mark Ji Tianxiang 1834-1900 Feast Day: July 9

Patronage: Drug addicts

Saint Mark Ji Tianxiang, “the Trier" was a Chinese lay Catholic, doctor and drug addict. He became addicted to opium because of a stomach ailment and suffered for 30 years with the addiction. He went to confession regularly to confess his drug use, but because of the priest’s misunderstanding of addiction he would not give Ji absolution because he believed there was no firm purpose of amendment. Although being denied the Sacraments Ji continued going to Mass and stayed steadfast in his faith for 30 years praying to die a martyr. During the Boxer Rebellion (anti-foreign, Christian persecution) he and his family were martyred. He encouraged all in prison to keep the faith throughout their ordeal and sang the litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary as he was about to be beheaded.

Saint Augustine Zhao Rong  Died 1815 Fest Day: July 9

Martyrs of China

From 1648-1930, Chinese children, parents, catechists, and laborers were martyred. Saint Augustine Zhao Rong was a soldier convert who became a priest and was brutally martyred by having his arm cut off and then flayed. His last words were “Every piece of flesh, every drop of blood will tell you that I am a Christian.” In 2000, 120 martyrs were canonized including 4 Chinese diocesan priests and 34 foreign missionaries.

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase here: (website)

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase here: (website)

[cathotradi2]

Marc and Théo - 4

Marc decides to prepare for baptism with Alban’s guidance. Through weekly sessions on faith, prayer, and sacraments, he undergoes a deep transformation. He no longer sees faith as rules but as a true encounter with God.

As Easter approaches, Alban explains that Marc must take an important step: the Rite of Election, where the bishop officially acknowledges his journey toward baptism. In the cathedral, Marc feels deeply moved as his name is called, and he signs the diocesan register. He tells Théo, “There’s no turning back,” and Théo replies, “This is just the beginning.”

On the night of the Easter Vigil, Marc is baptized by Alban, with Théo as his godfather. He then receives confirmation and his first communion, feeling an overwhelming joy and peace.

At the end of the Mass, he tells Théo and Alban, “I feel different, like something inside me has opened.” Théo replies, “Because it has. This is a new beginning.”

[drdemonprince]

jesus christ the degree of self-loathing and self-negation on this guy.

[angeltreasure]

Great idea 💡

[dijetemjeseca]

[siena-sevenwits]

Goodness of the day

I woke up at 9 AM, and took the beginning of the day slow.

@telthor and I gave each other mini-tours of rooms in our homes with photos, and that was fun.

We picked up Brother Two at the airport last night. He and his formators have discerned that while he almost certainly is called to a priestly vocation (and apparently they think the world of him at the seminary,) he may be called to diocesan ("normal") or monastic priesthood, rather than with the more niche group within the Church with whom he was studying. So, after much prayer and discussion, he's following their suggestion to come home to Canada, take a semester off to work, and look into where the Holy Spirit might be calling him next. He's taking it in a spirit of hope and trust. I really admire him. So, even though it's something of an uncertain time for him, it is nice to hug him and talk to him in person and the rest. I love him and was already missing him, even though I saw him only a few weeks ago at Christmas. I want to be there for him in whatever way he needs. (It's not the same thing at all, but I know that having to leave the convent I was discerning with back in the day was something that took a long time for me to work through emotionally. And I was only with them nine months. So I know it can potentially be a lot. But he's not me - I'll stand by him in whatever way he wants or needs) I love him.

I made a lovely brocolli-bacon-spinach stir-fry, and really liked how it turned out.

Big puzzle progress!

We went out for Chinese food as a family, because Brother Two loves it.

We came home and watched the first hour of the silent film of The Phantom of the Opera, and I'm really enjoying it.

My brother and I had an amazing conversation about brokenness and grace, inspired by the Stormlight Archive. How do you strive to do the right thing when you are so messed up, as a person, as a nation, as a species, that you yourself cannot solve anything, and there is no way to undo all the damage that has already been done without causing greater hurt? How to do good when you *are* the orcs? And where grace comes in, and why hope suffuses everything even in such a broken state, and just getting the Ring to the Crack of Doom even if you never, ever had what it took to throw it in and you sure as anything don't suddenly have what it takes now. And grace comes in, and grace comes in, and grace comes in. (Yes, I'm using Tolkien language to describe a Stormlight conversation, but more of you will get it if I do.) This does absolutely nothing to tell you what our conversation was really about - you had to be there - but oh, it was a good one.

[blissfulip]

—Legion

On AO3

Priest!Viktor x F!demon!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Priest Kink, Blasphemy, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Flagellation, Demon Sex, Demon Summoning, Demon/Human Relationships, demon reader, AU - Canon Divergence, Post medieval era, Dubious Science, Church Sex, Roman Catholicism, Catholic Guilt, Improper Use of Catholic Rituals, Shameless Smut, Masturbation

Cw: blood, self flagellation, masturbation

Words: 1.7k

[A/N: extremely blasphemous, but again, you saw the tags. Please read at your own risk! (also, let me know if you want to be tagged or removed in future fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao @queen-of-elves @thedustybunny @syren201 @thayfass @thehistoriangirl @hypocritic-trash-baby

Playlist made by my baby Soln <3 @ihopeinevergetsoberr

Next

I.

Extra ecclesiam nulla salus. 

 There is a certain comfort in fear. When you see what awaits you at the gaping, harrowing mouth of hell, knowledge of the place you must avoid, ultimately, is power. There was a time when Viktor pitied those who did not know—those who lived despondent lives, unaware and unafraid of damnation. Recently, he had found himself wishing he knew less. 

 A ravening beast with a thousand bloody teeth, inside its mouth a cauldron, and in it the souls of the accursed with sin, boiling over scorching flames as legions of fiendish demons dragged in multitudes more. This image plagued Viktor’s mind without rest, be it vividly in his dreams, in the colossal fresco at the entrance of his local cathedral, or in the comical props onstage at the theater plays. 

 The parish clergy that had taken him in as a kid had made the mistake of noticing his outstanding intelligence and awarding him time to dedicate to studying philosophy, a privilege that many of the choir monks and lay brothers did not receive. In university, philosophy had turned into physics, and soon that turned into astronomy, which he had to keep a secret on account of the recent prohibitions put in place by Paul V’s Inquisition over the study of Copernican theories. 

 After he was ordained and returned to his home cathedral, this once silent yet innocent interest had turned into complete secrecy, and the fear of God that had once given him solace now tormented him. At times he considered giving up on his work; the mechanical objections of Copernican theory should not be of this much significance to him after all; there had to be something of value in what Thomas Aquinas had to say, and perhaps Agustine of Hippo had some good points. Nevertheless, it was the night sky that called to him, and even this far from it, he could not escape. 

 But outside the church there is no salvation , and Viktor knew that even if he was never to be condemned as a heretic in life, what awaited him in death was a flaming tomb at Epicure's side. Quod extra ecclesiam nulla salus. 

---------------------------------------------------

His parish was a pious one, but Viktor would refuse to receive lithe from the members of his church. The first time he tried this, the bishop was immediately alerted, and he was secluded to live in the small room inside the chapel as a ‘punishment’ for his impertinence. Viktor did not mind; the lands he had been previously allotted were too much to care for on his own, with cleaning being especially hard once his leg would start tiring out, and the presence of the personnel of lay brothers that would follow him around made his studies impossible; thus, the contained space of the church was comfortable to live in on his own.

 It had been a particularly cold morning. The week before, he had received word of the imminent visit of his diocesan bishop, and the impending possibility of his stay at any moment in the near future had tied his eyebrows into a permanent knot and his shoulders into a tense bundle of nerves since that morning. 

 To his dismay, the state of his works had made no decent progress, his journal being nothing more than a few numbers and three words on a painfully empty piece of parchment. He understood Latin; he had studied it at length in university, but when he took a break to read the Bible, the words on it floated around aimlessly, in a messy concoction of nothing. 

 “Per fidem enim ambulamus et non per speciem,” he repeated to himself in a whisper, and then closed the pages lethargically. 

 He read the cover of a white volume that had been lying on his desk for over a month now. He was sure he would have possibly agreed with what Foscarini had to say, so the feeling of dread he felt every time he laid eyes upon the title was mystifying to him. Though it made sense after some reflection, he was afraid. 

 When he read Copernicus, it felt distant, a world he was only a visitor in, but the Foscarini was a carmelite father, one of his own that was now nothing short of a persona non-grata in the eyes of the Roman Catholic Church. Viktor was afraid that what he had to say might make sense and that he might be so correct in his observations that this knowledge would drag him into the same status. 

 In retrospect, he should not have read it. 

 In fact, opening the cover was a big mistake on its own. Not even 3 pages in, the door of his room unceremoniously barged open, revealing the full figure of Father Isodore. Viktor and him never really got along; his time in the monastery as a kid was full of rule-breaking and inappropriate questions, and to Father Isidore’s dismay, insatiable curiosity remained Viktor’s fatal flaw well into his adulthood. 

 Not a single word was uttered as he carried his sunny disposition and rubicund complexion over to Viktor’s desk. There was no use in trying to hide what he was holding; Viktor carried the same guilty look on his face every time he did something he was not supposed to. Once a cute kid trying to hide some innocent misdeeds, his expression had grown into one of unadulterated shame and indignity in the wake of sin, and the bishop knew this all too well. The book was snatched off his hands aggressively.

“‘Epistle concerning the mobility of the earth’,” he read, “would be an interesting read if only as a piece of fiction, and perhaps in a different climate.”

“Your excellence, I eh—”

“Save it. Don’t worsen your sin by bearing false witness.”

Viktor looked down and sighed in resignation, a disappointed sadness creeping up in his throat.

“You are very much aware those texts have been forbidden, but since words seem to slide off you, I hope physical penance can remind you of your depravity,” Father Isidore said coldly as he handed Viktor the whip that usually served as no more than a piece of decoration adorning his wall. “Ten of them, and be intentional. One pater noster after each.”

“Yes, father.”

“It’s a shame; I have come to congratulate you on your work for the community. Repent. ” The emphasis on the last word punctuated his departure.

A cold feeling arose in Viktor’s stomach as he looked down at the whip, something akin to fear but also awfully comparable to excitement.

Three deep breaths are what he allowed himself; it would be better to get it over with as quickly as possible. He removed his vestments unhurriedly, only his bottoms remaining as he sluggishly kneeled by the bed, and the chilled air on his back was, in hindsight, not as bad as he thought at the moment. His hand trembled slightly when his grip on the whip tightened, and his jaw locked into a gritted grin as he sucked air in through his teeth.

The first flick of his arm was swift, like ripping away a bandage to make the pain go away as fast as your wrist could tug at it. It did not help; the feeling of the small metal beads digging into his skin was instantaneous, and it disappeared soon, but the burning that replaced it lingered.

“ Pater noster, qui es in cælis:sanctificetur nomen tuum; adveniat regnum tuum; fiat voluntas tua, sicut in cælo et in terra .”

A swarm of ants biting at the exposed skin on his back was a scorching fire.

“Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie,et dimitte nobis debita nostra, sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris; et ne nos inducas in tentationem; sed libera nos a malo.”

Then it subsided, and the slight chills on his arms were due to something else. He took his time with the second hit, languidly whipping both hands back this time to maintain the same level of strength. The aching this time was different; the burning of his skin was quenched by the few droplets of blood and sweat trickling down his spine. And there was something else—a burning feeling that was misplaced not on his back or wrists but in his lower stomach.

“Pater noster, qui es in cælis:sanctificetur nomen...” He started once again, both hands holding one another around the handle of the whip, closed in prayer as he shut his eyes tightly for concentration. This proved to be fruitless when an uncomfortable tightness in the fabric around his crotch distracted his attention away from the words he was reciting. He tried to continue with his prayer, but an ill-calculated movement tugged at the tender skin of his back, and the brief sting made the already confining feeling worsen, morphing into an odd mixture of ache and delight.

He figured out what this meant soon enough. The conflicting feeling did not originate from any sort of confusion about what he was experiencing; it came with the quandary of his two options: either keep going to conclude his penalty and follow orders, or go against those orders to avoid tainting this sacred act with his depravity.

He unlaced his trousers before going for the third whip. The aching feeling on his back was almost completely gone, replaced by a numb tingling along the wounded skin and an unbearable heat in his groin. The fourth hit was one-handed. Right hand wrapping tightly along the handle and left hand mirroring the grip around his cock as he pumped himself mechanically. When the metal hit the skin, a jolt of what felt like electricity traveled all the way down to his stomach, the member on his hand twitching in anticipation.

There was no fifth hit or anything beyond that. A final tug with a firm hand and gritted teeth culminated in his climax, hot viscosity percolating through his fingers as he rested his forehead on the edge of the bed. His chest heaved up and down as he whispered a string of prayers. Shame washed over him.

“Castigo corpus meum.” He repeated incessantly until he had enough strength in his legs to stand.

[contenteditor]

At great height of the historic skyline of Porto dominates the former residence of the bishops. Located next to Porto Cathedral, the Paço do Bispo is the first true palace in Porto and one of the most important examples of late Baroque architecture in Porto/Portugal, due to its architectural grandeur, design and ornamental richness. Still the residence of the Bishop of Porto and seat of the Diocesan Curia, the most monumental part of the building is open to the public. The exhibition tour leads the visitor through the famous and particularly richly decorated staircase to a series of audience rooms where representative pieces of the diverse collection are displayed. Also noteworthy is the magnificent view over the city. #unlimitedportugal #portugalalive #portugal_lovers #portugaligers #wu_portugal #portugal_em_fotos #0k_portugal #portugalframes #amar_portugal #icu_portugal #ig_portugal #super_portugal #igersportugal #amoteportugal_ #ig_portugal #igersportugal #artwork #worldheritage #artofinstagram #sharingart #inspirationoftheday #arte #arte_mondo #inspiringart #artofinstagram #amazingplace #historicarchitecture #historic #historical #beautifulplaces #guest_churches #traveling_arte | by maik.monuments