#it’s not about excluding some people from baptism
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it’s not that we don’t bother to baptize the unborn because they’re not persons, we don’t baptize them because we can’t get at them to baptize them!! as Catholics we have strict “matter and form” for sacraments, gestures and words that are the given vehicle for God’s grace. having those things set in stone keeps us from going buckwild and doing stuff, aesthetically and ritually, that’s not in accord with the dignity of what’s happening. and part of the matter of baptism is the anointing with water. this is a necessary part of the sacrament, and since we can’t in the normal order of things get into the mother’s womb to sprinkle an unborn baby with water, we wait until they’re born to baptize them.
however—you know how sometimes modern medicine can detect a birth defect while the baby is in the womb, and then doctors go in and do a partial C-section, do surgery on the baby, and then put them back in the womb to finish developing? hypothetically, you could totally baptize the baby in that brief period where they’re being operated on outside of the womb.
I don't know whom I should ask about this, so I'll just post it and trust that God will give me the right answer at the right time.
Catholics and Lutherans hold that people have to be born before they can be baptized, right? You can't baptize somebody in the womb, and you can't baptize them in the birth canal. They have to be fully born first. This seems to imply that human life begins at birth.
How does this fit together with the pro-life position that human life begins at conception?
#this isn’t even to get into my theory about parents’ desire for baptism for their infant being sufficient for the sacrament—>#miscarried infants being therefore saved by the Baptism of Desire#okay sorry op I’m adding more tags#it’s not about excluding some people from baptism#it’s about the importance of the body!!#we don’t baptize ‘the soul’#we baptize the PERSON#and the person is body and soul!#so the sacrament therefore involves not just prayer for the person—but physical interaction with their body
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Socialism: Utopian and Scientific - Part 4
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Thus Karl Marx wrote about the British origin of modern materialism. If Englishmen nowadays do not exactly relish the compliment he paid their ancestors, more's the pity. It is none the less undeniable that Bacon, Hobbes, and Locke are the fathers of that brilliant school of French materialism which made the 18th century, in spite of all battles on land and sea won over Frenchmen by Germans and Englishmen, a pre-eminently French century, even before that crowning French Revolution, the results of which we outsiders, in England as well as Germany, are still trying to acclimatize.
There is no denying it. About the middle of this century, what struck every cultivated foreigner who set up his residence in England, was what he was then bound to consider the religious bigotry and stupidity of the English respectable middle-class. We, at that time, were all materialists, or, at least, very advanced free-thinkers, and to us it appeared inconceivable that almost all educated people in England should believe in all sorts of impossible miracles, and that even geologists like Buckland and Mantell should contort the facts of their science so as not to clash too much with the myths of the book of Genesis; while, in order to find people who dared to use their own intellectual faculties with regard to religious matters, you had to go amongst the uneducated, the "great unwashed", as they were then called, the working people, especially the Owenite Socialists.
But England has been "civilized" since then. The exhibition of 1851 sounded the knell of English insular exclusiveness. England became gradually internationalized, in diet, in manners, in ideas; so much so that I begin to wish that some English manners and customs had made as much headway on the Continent as other Continental habits have made here. Anyhow, the introduction and spread of salad-oil (before 1851 known only to the aristocracy) has been accompanied by a fatal spread of Continental scepticism in matters religious, and it has come to this, that agnosticism, though not yet considered "the thing" quite as much as the Church of England, is yet very nearly on a par, as far as respectability goes, with Baptism, and decidedly ranks above the Salvation Army. And I cannot help believing that under those circumstances it will be consoling to many who sincerely regret and condemn this progress of infidelity to learn that these "new-fangled notions" are not of foreign origin, are not "made in Germany", like so many other articles of daily use, but are undoubtedly Old English, and that their British originators 200 years ago went a good deal further than their descendants now dare to venture.
What, indeed, is agnosticism but, to use an expressive Lancashire term, "shamefaced" materialism? The agnostic's conception of Nature is materialistic throughout. The entire natural world is governed by law, and absolutely excludes the intervention of action from without. But, he adds, we have no means either of ascertaining or of disproving the existence of some Supreme Being beyond the known universe. Now, this might hold good at the time when Laplace, to Napoleon's question, why, in the great astronomer's Treatise on Celestial Mechanics, the Creator was not even mentioned, proudly replied: "I had no need of this hypothesis." But, nowadays, in our evolutionary conception of the universe, there is absolutely no room for either a Creator or a Ruler; and to talk of a Supreme Being shut out from the whole existing world, implies a contradiction in terms, and, as it seems to me, a gratuitous insult to the feelings of religious people.
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All Cops Are Bastards... at least if you're Catholic
14 June 2024, 7:17 a.m. GMT
In an unscheduled announcement, Pope Francis, presumably in an effort to regain the trust of the historically anti-police LGBTQ+ community after being recorded using a homophobic slur, has declared that all marriages which resulted in a child who later became a police officer shall be annulled by the Catholic Church.
This latest papal decree comes as a shock to many clergy and laymen alike, but sources close the Pope say this has been at the forefront of his mind ever since a 2019 episode of Paw Patrol featuring a canine pope who made "undignified decisions" at the behest of the show's police dog, Chase. These decisions include using his forbidden powers to banish an unruly pigeon straight to hell after it tried eating a single grain of his holy kibble, using autotune software to exclude other animals from mass by saying prayers in a pitch so high only God and dogs can hear it, and ultimately destroying the fictional "pup mobile" in an effort to stop the mayor of Adventure Bay from codifying the Separation of Church and State.
In his statement, Francis said, "God, … in His infinite knowledge, knows which unions of Man and Woman will result in children who will later become police officers, and He does not recognize those unions in His Great Kingdom of Heaven."
The announcement may prove to be rather costly for the Church, as the Archdiocese of New York—which, since its elevation from diocese to archdiocese in 1850, has only ever had Irish-American leadership (we checked)—has released a statement claiming that, considering the long history of Irish-American police officers in New York City, the Church will have to do an intensive audit of its clergy to determine how many of them were unknowingly born out of wedlock, and thus falsely ordained. If this number proves large enough, it could lead to a significant portion of the Archdiocese's congregation learning that they, and their families, were never actually baptized. Religious scholars warn that this may lead to a schism or even the rise of seemingly oxymoronic "Irish-Protestantism," as some laymen would rather proclaim a false Pope than their own false baptism.
Francis has assured the press that he's "not worried about false baptisms at all," since baptisms within the Catholic Church need not be performed by a Catholic priest.
"The bigger concern is false marriages," says 52-year-old half-Italian professor of religious studies at Florida University College, Kingston whose name has been omitted as he asked to remain anonymous. "Think of how many people a single priest marries. Now imagine that priest's brother became a cop. Because of that brother's decision, now they're both the result of an illegitimate union, and all those people who think they've been married in the eyes of God have actually been living in sin this whole time, not to mention their children, who are illegitimate as well. It's really a cascading effect when you think about it. Our early calculations estimate that under this new rule, nearly one third of Catholics in the United States are bastards, and nearly one third of Catholic 'marriages' in the United States are illegitimate."
Some critics have drawn attention to the fact that this announcement comes just weeks after reports that the Church has purchased nearly $2.8 billion worth of stock in the U.S. wedding industry. When asked if the two events are related, the Vatican declined to comment.
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I feel like this comes up way too often, particularly in regards to discussions of religious inclusion, but "No True Scotsman" is not about saying "that person isn't actually [X]," it's about excluding someone from a group for reasons that have nothing to do with inclusion in the group
The example, from which the fallacy gets its name, goes like this: "No Scotsman would commit such a horrible murder!" Well, they found the guy who did it, and he was a Scotsman. "No true Scotsman would do such a thing!"
You see the point, yes? The ability to commit murder is in no way related to one's Scottish heritage. However, if one were to say "no true Scotsman completely lacks Scottish heritage," that's not a fallacy. It's just a definition. Telling someone from Egypt, whose ancestry was 100% Egyptian since the beginning of recorded history, that they're not Scottish is not a fallacy.
Likewise, saying "no true vegetarian would regularly eat meat" is hardly a fallacy. It's just definitional. If you eat meat frequently, you are not a vegetarian. This is not controversial.
Yet for some reason, when it comes to self-proclaimed Christians denying the very essence of Christianity (e.g. saying "Jesus was a moral teacher but was not God"), I see people saying that we're not allowed to say that those people are not Christian. I understand that it opens the door to frightening discussions about what is and what is not a foundational, definitional belief (is baptism a definitional part of being Christian? If so, does method matter?), but surely we should be able to agree that by definition Christians believe that Jesus is God?
If we can't even say that, then the word is meaningless and there's no point in using it at all.
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Isn't it strange that a male can be given the priesthood but then when they come out as trans and start transitioning, they are told they don't have the priesthood anymore. And a female who transitions to male also doesn't get the priesthood.
It is nonsensical, isn't it? As long as he's a man, he has the priesthood, but when she says that actually she's not a man, suddenly *poof* the priesthood is gone. But it doesn't work in reverse, someone afab who says they're male doesn't get to have the priesthood.
This could all be resolved if we were to stop limiting the priesthood based on gender. It would also stop a lot of inequities in church, or at least provide possibilities for them to be undone.
I'm not sure of any reason why in the LDS Church we limit the priesthood only to men other than it's tradition. In the Bible we do have examples of women as prophetess and in the role of apostle.
I believe we have the groundwork on which we could repeal the gender inequity we have in regards to priesthood in the LDS Church.
One way to think of the priesthood is that everyone who makes & keeps covenants has the priesthood. This includes baptism and the temple endowment. In the temple, endowed women exercise priesthood authority to pronounce blessings on other women (during the initiatory ceremony). I think this concept could be used to be more expansive in how we think about priesthood.
Beginning at age 11 , men are ordained to the priesthood and assigned to offices such as priest or elder, without needing to first go to the temple. Women do not have a parallel experience. Many positions at church are restricted according to priesthood office, which means they exclude all women from holding those roles.
We also assign certain duties to people in priesthood roles. There's no reason young women couldn't pass the sacrament trays to the congregation other than we assigned that duty to young men who've been ordained to the Aaronic priesthood and the office of Deacon. We could unassign that duty to a particular priesthood office. We used to only let men with the priesthood serve as a witness at a baptism or a temple sealing, now anyone who is baptized can be an official witness to a baptism and anyone who is endowed can be a witness at a temple sealing. Is this them using the priesthood they received when they made covenants?
LDS women serve in ways that would require ordination in many other religious traditions, such as when they lead Relief Society, Young Women and Primary organizations; preach and pray in congregations; participate in leadership councils; and serve as missionaries. We teach they are operating with priesthood authority, but we also say this authority was granted to them by a man, that a man with priesthood keys has delegated some authority to them to operate in these positions.
I think we should expand our concept of who hold the priesthood and who gets to use that priesthood in church. I don't know that there's a widespread movement inside the LDS Church for women to be ordained, but there is more talk about it than there used to be, but mostly among younger women.
What I fear is that if there becomes a push for women to be formally ordained, like we do with men, that the top leaders will warn that to allow this would mean to allow trans members to have priesthood and serve, that this fear of legitimizing queer people and our experiences will be used to justify denying full inclusion for anyone other than cis men. I think that is contrary to the concept that all people are alike to God, that all are loved & valued by God
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Today the Church remembers St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Theologian and Bishop.
Ora pro nobis.
Cyril of Jerusalem was a distinguished theologian of the early Church (c. 313 – 386 AD).
About the end of 350 AD he succeeded Maximus as Bishop of Jerusalem, but was exiled on more than one occasion due to the enmity of Acacius of Caesarea, and the policies of various emperors. Cyril left important writings documenting the instruction of catechumens and the order of the Liturgy in his day.
Little is known of his life before he became a bishop; the assignment of his birth to the year 315 rests on conjecture. Cyril was born at or near the city of Jerusalem, and was apparently well-read in both the Church fathers and the pagan philosophers. Cyril was ordained a deacon by Bishop St. Macarius of Jerusalem in about 335 AD and a priest some eight years later by Bishop St. Maximus. About the end of 350 AD he succeeded St. Maximus in the See of Jerusalem.
Relations between Metropolitan Acacius of Caesarea and Cyril became strained. Acacius is presented as a leading Arian by the orthodox historians, and his opposition to Cyril in the 350s is attributed by these writers to this. Sozomen also suggests that the tension may have been increased by Acacius's jealousy of the importance assigned to St. Cyril's See by the Council of Nicaea, as well as by the threat posed to Caesarea by the rising influence of the seat of Jerusalem as it developed into the prime Christian holy place and became a centre of pilgrimage.
Acacius charged Cyril with selling church property. The city of Jerusalem had suffered drastic food shortages at which point church historians Sozomen and Theodoret report “Cyril secretly sold sacramental ornaments of the church and a valuable holy robe, fashioned with gold thread that the emperor Constantine had once donated for the bishop to wear when he performed the rite of Baptism”. It was believed that Cyril sold some plate, ornaments and imperial gifts to keep his people from starving.
For two years, Cyril resisted Acacius' summons to account for his actions in selling off church property, but a council held under Acacius's influence in 357 AD deposed St. Cyril in his absence (having officially charged him with selling church property to help the poor) and Cyril took refuge with Silvanus, Bishop of Tarsus. The following year, 359, in an atmosphere hostile to Acacius, the Council of Seleucia reinstated Cyril and deposed Acacius. In 360, though, this was reversed by Emperor Constantius, and Cyril suffered another year's exile from Jerusalem until the Emperor Julian's accession allowed him to return.
Cyril was once again banished from Jerusalem by the Arian Emperor Valens in 367 AD. St. Cyril was able to return again at the accession of Emperor Gratian in 378, after which he remained undisturbed until his death in 386. In 380, St. Gregory of Nyssa came to Jerusalem on the recommendation of a council held at Antioch in the preceding year. He found the faith in accord with the truth, but the city a prey to parties and corrupt in morals. Cyril's jurisdiction over Jerusalem was expressly confirmed by the First Council of Constantinople (381), at which he was present. At that council he voted for acceptance of the term homoousios, having been finally convinced that there was no better alternative. His story is perhaps best representative of those Eastern bishops (perhaps a majority), initially mistrustful of Nicaea, who came to accept the creed of that council, and the doctrine of the homoousion, that God the Father and God the Son were of the same nature..
Though his theology was at first somewhat indefinite in phraseology, he undoubtedly gave a thorough adhesion to the Nicene Orthodoxy. Even if he did avoid the debatable term homoousios, he expressed its sense in many passages, which exclude equally Patripassianism, Sabellianism, and the formula "there was a time when the Son was not" attributed to Arius. In other points he takes the ordinary ground of the Eastern Fathers, as in the emphasis he lays on the freedom of the will, the autexousion (αὐτεξούσιον), and in his view of the nature of sin. To him sin is the consequence of freedom, not a natural condition. The body is not the cause, but the instrument of sin. The remedy for it is repentance, on which he insists. Like many of the Eastern Fathers, he focuses on high moral living as essential to true Christianity. His doctrine of the Resurrection is not quite so realistic as that of other Fathers; but his conception of the Church is decidedly empirical: the existing Church form is the true one, intended by Christ, the completion of the Church of the Old Testament. His interpretation of the Eucharist is disputed. If he sometimes seems to approach the symbolic view, at other times he comes very close to a strong realistic doctrine. The bread and wine are not mere elements, but the body and blood of Christ.
Cyril's writings are filled with the loving and forgiving nature of God which was somewhat uncommon during his time period. Cyril fills his writings with great lines of the healing power of forgiveness and the Holy Spirit, like “The Spirit comes gently and makes himself known by his fragrance. He is not felt as a burden for God is light, very light. Rays of light and knowledge stream before him as the Spirit approaches. The Spirit comes with the tenderness of a true friend to save, to heal, to teach, to counsel, to strengthen, and to console”. Cyril himself followed God's message of forgiveness many times throughout his life. This is most clearly seen in his two major exiles where Cyril was disgraced and forced to leave his position and his people behind. He never wrote or showed any ill will towards those who wronged him. Cyril stressed the themes of healing and regeneration in his catechesis.
Cyril is author of the Catecheses, or Catechatical Lectures on the Christian Faith. These consist of an introductory lecture, then eighteen lectures on the Christian Faith to be delivered during Lent to those about to be baptized at Easter, and then five lectures on the Sacraments to be delivered after Easter to the newly baptized. These have been translated into English (F L Cross, 1951), and are the oldest such lectures surviving. (It is thought that they were used over and over by Cyril and his successors, and that they may have undergone some revision in the process.)
Cyril lived in a time of intense apocalyptic expectation, when Christians were eager to find apocalyptic meaning in every historical event or natural disaster. Cyril spent a good part of his episcopacy in intermittent exile from Jerusalem. Soon after his appointment, Cyril in his Letter to Constantius of 351 AD recorded the appearance of a cross of light in the sky above Golgotha, witnessed by the whole population of Jerusalem. The Greek church commemorates this miracle on the 7th of May. Though in modern times the authenticity of the Letter has been questioned, on the grounds that the word homoousios occurs in the final blessing, many scholars believe this may be a later interpolation, and accept the letter's authenticity on the grounds of other pieces of internal evidence.
Cyril interpreted this as both a sign of support for Constantius, who was soon to face the usurper Magnentius, and as announcing the Second Coming, which was soon to take place in Jerusalem. Not surprisingly, in Cyril's eschatological analysis, Jerusalem holds a central position.
Matthew 24:6 speaks of "wars and reports of wars", as a sign of the End Times, and it is within this context that Cyril read Julian's war with the Persians. Matthew 24:7 speaks of "earthquakes from place to place", and Jerusalem experienced an earthquake in 363 AD at a time when Julian was attempting to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem. Embroiled in a rivalry with Acacius of Caesarea over the relative primacy of their respective sees, Cyril saw even ecclesial discord a sign of the Lord's coming. His Catechesis 15 would appear to cast Julian as the antichrist.
“In His first coming, He endured the Cross, despising shame; in His second, He comes attended by a host of Angels, receiving glory. We rest not then upon His first advent only, but look also for His second."
He looked forward to the Second Advent which would bring an end to the world and then the created world to be re-made anew. At the Second Advent he expected to rise in the resurrection if it came after his time on earth.
Every year, thousands of Christian pilgrims came to Jerusalem, especially for Holy Week. It is probably Cyril who instituted the liturgical forms for that week as they were observed in Jerusalem at the pilgrimage sites, were spread to other churches by returning pilgrims, and have come down to us today, with the procession with palms on Palm Sunday, and the services for the following days, culminating in the celebration of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday. We have a detailed account of Holy Week observances in Jerusalem in the fourth century, thanks to a a Spanish nun named Egeria who made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and kept a journal.
Strengthen, O Lord, the bishops of your Church in their special calling to be teachers and ministers of the Sacraments, so that they, like your servant Cyril of Jerusalem, may effectively instruct your people in Christian faith and practice; and that we, taught by them, may enter more fully into the celebration of the Paschal mystery; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
Amen.
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on infant baptism and cultural brit milah
infant baptism isn't great because children cannot consent or understand religious significants.
it is about the parents, not about the child; about signalling to a society what their identity is before they can embrace that identity with the gift of understanding. i think it is healthier to see children as children period, no nation or religion is inherent to them. i never fully trust there isn't a deeper meaning when someone underscores, in discourse, activism or journalism, that someone is a "christian child" or a "muslim child" or an "american child" or ... etc. who asked? why do you clarify it? what is your purpose? who are you excluding from what? who are you blaming for what?
some jewish children from jewish christian parents practice both infant baptism and brit milah, and later also confirmation and bnei mitzvah. this is less rare in hispanic countries among catholic bnei anusim. but it can happen all over the world where there are jewish families of the christian faith (spoiler for the close-minded or hypervigilant: not messianic jews. i'm not humoring that discourse that dehebraizes jews who don't observe judaism, it's antisemitic and, wake the fuck up, most hilonim aren't old-fashioned and want a more secular jewish world, not religious reactionarism and cultural chauvinism).
how did this dual culture happen without a mixed family? jewish people whose ancestors once renounced judaism forcibly still observed judaism for some generations. culture passes on despite oppression and family traditions endure far more than the ability to pass on faiths in an assimilationist environment, like brit milah or bnei mitzvah, across the centuries.
they incorporated jewish heritage into christian rituals or still practiced them despite not preserving judaism as a whole, and eventually, these families (halakhically zera yisrael) came to re-identify as culturally jewish without renouncing their other christian heritage (as often they weren't solely ethnically jewish).
this was made possible because of greater awareness and globalization, mixed families, conversion or aliyah of part of the family, post-holocaust world jewish culture, post-nostra aetate church work, etc. many of these congregations were the latin american backbone that would join hebrew catholic associations. some people raised jewish do not identify as jewish and may see jewish ritual imposed on them as transgressive or rude, regardless of whether they are atheist, buddhist, protestant, christian, muslim or whatever.
some people raised christian don't identify as christian either, same thing even when they are gentile. the water of baptism is their parents' ideals, not theirs, so it is also transgressive or rude, and they will as everyone one day reflect on it freely. the holy ghost does not need water, christ does not need a ritual to reach a heart, does he?
nevertheless, some rituals are actually violent on a child's bodily autonomy and others are not, because water is harmless on a physical level. so the use of "violence" is problematic when the topic involves the thorny subject of non-medical circumcision and infant brit milah, and has to be pointed out as genital mutilation, because that is what it is. this isn't antisemitic, because jewish topics involve less than 1% of the world population and MGM affects what was it, a third of men? and if "my body my choice" is 50% of humanity when dealing with the foreskin, then yeah. not a jewish-centric conversation, but one people who pratice brit milah is directed at.
overall, it is important to remember children have no inherent religion or culture, they're brought into one. children are people period. one day, they will be adults. they will either embrace or reject the significants and religions of either parent or both. therefore, no child should undergo actual violence to their bodies.
a parent's ultimate duty is to love their children, not to solely see them as recipients of a worldview or a tradition, which would be self-centered and could lead to overlook those simple facts about ethical parenting and toxic traditions that violate (male) bodily autonomy.
#hebrew catholicism#hebrew catholic#circumcision#male genital mutilation#genital mutilation#anti cultural circumcision
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Following Jesus Part 1
Following Jesus and discipleship
When Jesus called his disciples, he told them all on various occasions to follow him Here are some examples.
1. Matthew 4:19 Simon Peter and Andrew
“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.”
2. Matthew 8:22 Another disciple
But Jesus told him, “Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.”
3. Matthew 9:9 Matthew
As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” he told him, and Matthew got up and followed him.
4. Matthew 10:38 All 12 disciples
whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me.
5. Matthew 16:24 All 12 disciples
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.
6. Matthew 19:21 Rich young ruler
Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
7. Luke 9:23 Daily
Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.
8. Luke 14:27 Those Excluded from following Jesus
and whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.
9. John 1:43 Jesus Calls Philip and Nathanael. The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, “Follow me.”
Following and being a disciple?
The word disciple actually means a ‘learner’ or ‘follower.’ Jesus did not tell people to get converts but rather to make disciples. Jesus wants us to be his disciples. Will we be followers who will obey or will be followers who walk away? Disciples follow Jesus and disciples make other disciples.
Some tough questions for would-be disciples.
What do we need to give up to follow Jesus?
If we compare ourselves with the first followers of Jesus in the first century. This is where we come face to face with a big challenge.
Do we really have to give up everything we have to follow Jesus?
Do we have to love him in a way that makes our closest relationships in this world look like hate? Could He tell us to sell everything we have and give it to the poor?
Was it easier in those early days of the New Testament believers to give everything up for Jesus? How do we go about this in this day and age? Can we follow Jesus without leaving our families, jobs, or wealth? Should we just join a monastery or nunnery?
Interestingly God called Martin Luther out of a monastery to follow Him!
Bonhoeffer [1} tried to answer this question by suggesting that Jesus did not call all his followers to give everything up initially and gave examples of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Bonhoeffer also says that as we identify with Jesus’ death in our baptism then we are showing full commitment to following Him. So could Jesus still call you and me to give up our families, possessions, and jobs?
However, my own view is that we only need to give up whatever Jesus specifically tells us to give up. But it is up to Jesus to tell us specifically and it is over to us to decide whether we will obey Him or not.
Is He worth it?
This brings us to the crucial question for every true follower of Jesus: Do we really believe He is worth abandoning everything for? Do you and I really believe that Jesus is so good, so satisfying and so rewarding that we will leave all we have and all we own and all we are in order to find our fullness in Him? Do you and I believe Him enough to obey Him and to follow Him wherever He leads?
Amen
Personal Prayer
[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer in ‘The cost of discipleship.’
#christianity#bible study#bibletruth#blog post#blessings#psalmonesermons#faith#victory#devotional#following jesus
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My Grandmother Put Greedy Preachers In Their Places .... Twice .... Even After She Died
TL/DR - My grandmother generously served her "Bible Believing Christian" church for almost 50 years, without asking anything in return. But when she became elderly, disabled and homebound, her church acted like she did not exist - until she was in hospice care and literally on her deathbed, when that church showed a sudden interest in telling Grandma to, "Remember your church in your will". She waited until exactly the right moment, in front of exactly the right audience, to expose these greedy assholes for what they were.....twice.
My grandmother was a member of a large conservative "Bible Believing" church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call BigWhiteChurch, was a member of a large Evangelical denomination. BigWhiteChurch was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible Belt of the Deep South of the USA.
Grandma was very active in BigWhiteChurch. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught Youth Bible Study on Sunday nights and was very active in supporting Home Missions, as well as helping with other youth programs. She always tithed, and often gave extra for missions and special offerings.
Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this first-hand many times. Although I belonged to a different church, I often visited with Grandma, and when I did, I usually went to BigWhiteChurch functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of BigWhiteChurch Youth, a task which took over 2 hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then, after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high-school student leader for, "Doing such a great job of organizing the Prayer Breakfast".
I remember that, on a BigWhiteChurch youth retreat at a rural Church Camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieve a big box of evangelistic materials, that one of the Assistant Pastors (whom I'll call AssPastor) had forgotten and asked her to get, in time for our morning program the next day. His boss, the Senior Pastor (I'll call him PompousPastor), never found out that AssPastor had screwed up or that Grandma had fixed it for him. AssPastor never even thanked Grandma. Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all; she told me her reward would be that those materials, "Would help children find Jesus".
Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73, when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and could not go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever, and her faith remained sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day.
During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit her at her home, etc., without success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored.
Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my Grandpa called her church and asked for the Senior Pastor, PompousPastor, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so that they could plan her memorial service, which she and Grandpa wanted to be held at the church.
PompousPastor was too busy, but AssPastor stopped by a few days later. According to my Grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting, with my Grandma literally on her deathbed:
Grandma, Grandpa and AssPastor discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then AssPastor started pressuring her to, "Lay up your treasure in Heaven" by, "Remembering your church in your will".
Grandpa told him firmly that, "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will."
They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then AssPastor steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly "her" church needed "her support".
Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or the church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. AssPastor would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs, heavenly rewards, "Where your treasure is your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34), etc.
My Grandma started crying.
To put this into context, Grandma was more than a "Steel Magnolia". She was "Titanium Coated With Diamond Wrapped In Kevlar". She rarely ever cried, and never EVER cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following 6 months in futile rehab. She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospital when they received bad news. She would cry to console others, "Weep with those who weep". But nobody - not Grandpa, not her daughter (my mom), nor any of my uncles or Grandma's siblings - ever remembered her crying for herself.
My Grandma was sobbing uncontrollably.
Grandpa, a retired steelworker, ex-Marine Sergeant and Korean War combat veteran, physically grabbed AssPastor and "escorted" him out of their house, not too gently.
Contrary to everyone's expectations, Grandma lived another 6 months, mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Grandma passed away and we held her memorial service at the funeral home, not BigWhiteChurch. PompousPastor and AssPastor were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no "Professional Christians", from BigWhiteChurch, at the service at all, not even in the audience.
To start the service, Grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, "Some of you may have heard that I dis-invited PompousPastor and AssPastor from this funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them."
"This funeral service may be different from other funerals that you have attended. It is going to be an "open microphone" funeral. Everyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that is worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I have asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so."
There were about a hundred people at the funeral service; at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours and, as best I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs on the piano and guitar, we all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns.
Afterwards, dozens of people told my Grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remarked that, "Funerals are better without preachers anyway", or something similar.
REMEMBERING HER PASTORS AND HER CHURCH IN HER WILL: THE ONE-TWO PUNCH
A couple of weeks later, it was time to start distributing the bequests in Grandma's will. Although Grandma and Grandpa dearly loved each other, they had separate wills because, she told my Mom, "That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf", and because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous, well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50+ years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg.
Of course, there is no legal requirement for anyone to attend "The Reading Of The Will", or to even have a "Reading". Modern telecommunications and near-universal literacy have made this quaint custom practically extinct.
But "The Reading Of The Will" was a tradition in our family because it was one of those events that gave our close-knit, extended family an excuse to get together. We never had "Family Reunions". They were too difficult to schedule for our large family. But we got together at birthdays, holidays, funerals, baptisms, etc., so that if you attended several of these, you would see just about every one of your cousins, aunts, uncles, and even great aunts & uncles who were Grandma's and Grandpa's siblings and in-laws.
With this family tradition in mind, many of our family members' wills often contained very personal bequests of items that had little cash value, but were the departed family member's way of telling their loved ones that they wanted to share a cherished memory with them one last time.
As an added incentive to attend, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by Grandpa, that Grandma's will contained some "surprises".
The "Reading" was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and many of the grandchildren.
We were all surprised, however, to see PompousPastor and AssPastor from BigWhiteChurch. They informed us that Grandma's lawyer had told them that Grandma's will had bequests not only for BigWhiteChurch, but also for them personally.
Maybe it was just our imagination; but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these Preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at Grandma's generosity.
Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will. The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle-class living room. Extra chairs had been brought in, every seat was filled and people were standing in every remaining space.
There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyer suggested that PompousPastor and AssPastor sit in chairs which were in the front of the room, next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant that the lawyer and these two Preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else. Although the Preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as all of the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the packed-to-more-than-overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room's single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape.
The bequests were quite generous, but pretty much what we had expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts and everything that remained after all of the bequests had been satisfied. Children, grandchildren and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant, amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives.
Grandpa was first beneficiary listed in the will. But, after him, all of the other bequests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece and nephew received a little more, then several local non-profits received very nice amounts, etc.
Bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor were (almost) the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but with steadily growing anticipation, as they noticed the exponential upward trend in Grandma's largess.
When Grandma's lawyer got to the BigWhiteChurch and Preachers' part of the will, he said, "This is a bit unusual, but before I announce these bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor, Ms [Grandma's name] requested that I read the following statement to everyone present."
He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting...
"For the past 10 years, NOT ONE person from BigWhiteChurch has ever called me, come to visit me or sent me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all of those years, loved dearly and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me, for many, many years. But when I needed you and your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist."
"I only got one visit. When I was dying and I invited PompousPastor to come to my house and help me plan my funeral."
"This was my last attempt, after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years, to reach out to my church and Pastor, whom I still loved dearly even though they had made it clear that they did not love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends, whom I had not seen in a decade, would come to the service to see me one last time. And I know they loved to hear PompousPastor preach, so if he preached at my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they would not have come to see me.
But PompousPastor couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not he was willing to preach at my funeral. AssPastor came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to, 'Remember his church in my will'. That's all. Just, 'Remember his church in my will'".
"It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The VERY last time."
"AssPastor did not know it when he visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will, long before his visit, which did include a double tithe - TWENTY PERCENT - of my ENTIRE ESTATE, for what was now my former ... FORMER ... church ... BigWhiteChurch.
This amount was [named the amount - an enormous shitload of money - generating muffled "wows" from many of her heirs, including me].
"But I got to feeling badly that we had not personally remembered such nice people as PompousPastor and AssPastor. So I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to BigWhiteChurch to match all of the love that they have showed to me during the last 10 years of my life, when I was suffering and lonely, and no longer able to work my ass off for them, for free, like I had done for almost half a century."
"That is her entire written statement", the lawyer said. "Now let's get back to the bequests in the will."
"Bequest to AssPastor: One Cent".
"Bequest to PompousPastor: One Cent".
"Bequest to BigWhiteChurch: One Cent".
The PompousPastor and AssPastor sat there looking like someone had just injected a gallon of novacaine into their jaws.
Every one of Grandma's family and friends felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. But we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it.
"There is one last bequest," the lawyer continued, "For a charity called ...", which he named and I'll call "BlackCharity", then he paused before naming the amount....
Most of us had no idea what BlackCharity was. But, by the looks on their faces, we could tell that PompousPastor and AssPastor knew BlackCharity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread and horror that they would have if the lawyer had said, "This bequest goes to The Demonic Baby Eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal".
Every eye in the room was now fixated on PompousPastor and AssPastor.
The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, one of Grandma's and Grandpa's sons, let the silence continue a few seconds more....
If we had been able to read PompousPastor's and AssPastor's minds, we would have known the history behind the looks on their faces. BlackCharity was sponsored by a large Black church just a few miles from BigWhiteChurch. They ran a free food/clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery of pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid, and other social services.
A long time ago, BigWhiteChurch, which was (and still is) 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to BlackCharity. Then there was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because BlackCharity was practicing "The Social Gospel", while BigWhiteChurch was preaching "The True Gospel". BigWhiteChurch even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.
But, this being The Deep South, everyone knew the real reason why BigWhiteChurch, or any white church, would stop supporting a Black charity: "Those n****** were getting uppity and not staying in their place". Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving BigWhiteChurch at that time. But they had reasoned that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words and example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth at their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, "My church is my Mission Field". We did not learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.
Since then, Grandma and Grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their "Tithe" to BlackCharity every month.
Most of Grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended.
But PompousPastor and AssPastor obviously understood what Grandma, by her actions which are more powerful than words, was saying to them. If you had grown up as a white person in the Deep South, as Grandma, Grandpa, PompousPastor and AssPastor had, you would understand.
To many white Southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemned their bigotry and crushed their delusions of white superiority by saying, "These Black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve my money more than you do".
Having allowed time for everyone to observe PompousPastor and AssPastor while they thought about how their white church had treated this Black charity, and how they AND their church had treated our Grandma...
The lawyer said, "The amount is...."
Then he named the EXACT SAME AMOUNT that Grandma had named in her handwritten letter, the huge amount of money that would have gone to BigWhiteChurch if she had not changed her will.
(source) story by (/u/BamaFan4Jesus)
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To clarify, would you support a ban on religious symbols if it DID include crosses and everything Christian along with the rest?
No. Fuck that.
I’ve said over and over and over “you do you, just don’t build policy around it” and wearing your religious clothing and symbols is you doing you.
Also here’s a fun story.
In my school district it was common for muslim girls who were going to wear hijabs and practice modesty of dress to switch over during the summer so that it wouldn’t be this big thing that happened like, on a random Wednesday or whatever.
Anyway, 9/11 happened and a couple weeks later the Arabic club had a meeting and everyone was really upset because YEAH there was suddenly a SHITLOAD of islamophobia that these students hadn’t been experiencing before.
Now, my friend A. had started wearing her hijab before school started that year, so a few weeks ago, and I walked home with her because she lived halfway to my house. After 9/11 was the first time anyone ever threw shit at us when we were walking home and within a few weeks it had happened a couple of times, to the point that A. stopped walking home and started getting a ride with a different friend. And I do not blame her at all, I never got shit thrown at me when I was walking alone or with our male friend K. who was muslim but didn’t wear anything that visibly denoted that from fifty feet away. What was happening to A. was very shitty and scary and I’m glad she found a safe way to get home.
But M. hadn’t worn the hijab before and was worried about starting because she heard what A. was talking about and heard about the Sikh worker at the local gas station getting attacked.
She came to school the next day and wore it anyway.
M. and I weren’t friends like A. and I were, I wasn’t close to her or anything, but I always really admired her conviction on that. She was genuinely scared in a scary time and had a good reason to be frightened but she cared enough about this to do it anyway.
It was ballsy as fuck.
As an atheist one of the things that is INCREDIBLY important to me is that people be allowed to choose how much they participate or do not participate in religion. It’s part of the reason that infant baptism freaks me out but adult modesty doesn’t.
YOU DO YOU. DON’T HURT PEOPLE AND DON’T IMPOSE YOUR CHOICES ON OTHER PEOPLE.
(I should note that I’m aware there’s some “I wear makeup because I want to, not because it’s harder to get interviews or I’m seen as unprofessional if I don’t” in this - sometimes people who are in religions that have particular clothing associated with a particular stage of life may not want to wear those clothes but do so because their families expect it and put pressure on them to do so; I feel like if we normalize making choices about these kinds of things as a society as a whole that makes it easier for people within religious groups to say “I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to, I can go over here and do this other thing but if I decide I want to go back and do it I can later” and I think that’s probably better than feeling like you’ve got no choice or that you’re going to be utterly excluded from society if you DO choose to wear a niquab or something.)
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I’m sorry y’all.. I can’t stop thinking about the difference in an idea of an “unconditional love” between deity and worshiper and one of kharis... So I kinda want to dive into some thoughts here.
I think we’ve created this intense fear about relationships of all kinds that are conditional. There’s this idea that unconditional love is the only love that counts... But that’s absurd. Most love in your life should be conditional... For instance, if a relationship is abusive and not healthy for you, that relationship should be up for reevaluation. And likewise, if you’re not healthy for someone else, that relationship should be up for reevaluation.
Also, strong intimate “I’d die for you” relationships don’t just happen with no work. You spend years earning someone’s trust and they spend years earning your trust. You never stopr building that trust and reciprocity.
Kharis is these two things combined. You spend years working on a relationship with the gods that should feel fulfilling and rewarding on both ends. The gods should not feel you ask more of them than you’re willing to give and you should not feel like you give and get nothing in return. To me, kharis is very much connected with the fact that our gods are anthropomorphic and take on human features so their relationships with us should work like any other relationships in your life. Built over time and healthiest when completely reciprocal.
And I mean that’s super healthy imo. Like if you are putting more into your religion than you feel you are getting out of it, then it isn’t right for you. Likewise, you can’t expect a deity to be at your beck and call if you don’t work on that relationship when you’re not actively asking for something.
But I do think we’ve got this cultural reference of agape (the love between God and man used in the Christian bible) where a relationship with God doesn’t have to be formed, it exists because you do. It starts out positive and becomes negative or gains positivity with your actions as you live your life... But all babies are born with God’s love (though of course the practical applications of that love ala baptism vary). So there’s this idea that agape exists whether you interact with it or not. Christians will often tell people “Jesus loves you!” because regardless of whether or not you interact with that, it exists in their religion.
And I mean it is comforting to feel like God loves you simply because you exist. You are one of God’s children and just as your parents love you, God loves you. It is terrifying to feel like that love does not exclude you from wrath, vengeance, and inflicted pain and it is your job to live a life as close to what God wants from you as possible to limit and lessen the effects of punishment. Since this is our cultural frame of reference of what a relationship between a human and a deity looks like and it is clearly unhealthy, when when we seek out other religions for a potential healthier relationship with a deity/set of deities, we take that inherent love between deity and human that Christianity preaches and leave out the judgement and pain.
So I think from that sense, it’s hard to adapt to kharis. When the bond between god and man is formed over a reciprocal showing and sense of good will over a period of time rather than given inherently without question and then strengthened or broken through sin or lack of sin.
As in I think it’s a symptom of a Christian centric culture to have trouble with kharis as it relates to the theoi because it is vastly different from the way our cultures engage with religion.
#kharis#hellenic polyteism#hellenism#dodekatheism#i'm at work and have been thinking about this all night#excuse the rambles
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Pretendians
There is a new term in Canadian Politics. Well not that new, but it is becoming more prominent. There a numerous academics, artists, authors, and even officials that claim Aboriginal ancestry. Part of that licenses them to represent aboriginal interests and teach and create influenced by those traditions. It turns out they may not be what they say.
There is a bit of a storm in the East regarding a multi-billion dollar land claim settlement. Apparently a thousand people who are claimants may not be eligible.
This gets sticky fast. There is a reliable and accurate method to determine if a person has such an ancestor. I believe it is not allowed to be used with respect to certification of ancestry with respect to being what was commonly called an Indian. DNA may not be used.
What is allowed is genealogical research of documents and oral histories. Old parchments and records of baptisms and what old people remember are allowed. In the case of that land claim about a thousand people claimed descent from a person who was mixed Indian and European blood. One person with a thousand descendants.
There is a document that describes this person as being the child of a mixed race couple, and that one of them was an Algonquin Indian. That document is likely a forgery, though an old retired judge was convinced it was real. The people that are not on the list want the people on the list to be excluded from the claim.
It is weird that some of those people have lived their whole lives in Aboriginal communities and at least one is recognized as a chief. But based on blood and false documents he is not what he thinks he is.
I have issues with people claiming special status based on Race in general. But we must recognize that the original peoples of this land were poorly treated at best. To jump into the claim with false documents is not right. I honestly wonder how a blonde blue eyed person can seriously claim to be part of any tribe. At the very least they have to admit that they are mostly if not entirely not aboriginal. How much do you need? Is 1/16th or 1/64th enough? Or is even the tiniest proportion sufficient?
I see many people on TV with striking European features and names claiming to be Indians. Are they? Are they Pretendians?
There is a person who as a writer and film director won awards for productions of aboriginal content. She was feted as an important part of promoting that culture. Her claim to ancestry was based on what her grandparents told her. It was fuzzy, but she believed it and steeped herself in the stories. Turns out no documents back her up. People of the tribe she claimed to be part of said she was not. Then she was accused of fraud and ostracized. It did not matter what she believed.
There was a fairly famous artist who not only painted aboriginal art, but taught the language and bush skills of the people he claimed to be one of. Turns out his blood relatives knew he was not.
I had a DNA test. I thought it was possible my mother's people had a bit of Mikmaq as they lived for many generations in Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. People get around. If I had it would be a tiny percentage at best. Turns out that no I have no such DNA.
If they started to use DNA for this purpose it would clarify things, but it would be a real can of worms. The real issue would be to establish how much ancestry you need. Is any amount enough, or some arbitrary cut off like 1/16th?
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In response to your last anon, I think they're right about people being vaguely culturally Christian but not really believing. HOWEVER I think it's important to remember that the Christian cultural hegemony can be really excluding and marginalising for those of other faiths. Yes, it is part of the culture, but e.g. should schools do a Christmas play that focuses clearly on key aspects of one religion, or is it better to do something more inclusive?
Christian hegemony? I don’t know where you live, but my mom (atheist) used to be a teacher and this one time she went to a museum with her students (12-yo) and they were supposed to see some modern art exhibition but this was an old building and there was a huge & detailed crucifix on a wall by the door and the entire class just stood and stared and started to say louder and louder ‘Who is he’ and ‘Is that BLOOD’ and ‘Are those NAILS’ and ‘Teacher is he DEAD’ and ‘Teacher did they KILL him’ and ‘Why’ and ‘Dafuq’ and before my mom could say anything this Albanian boy (Muslim) rolled his eyes and explained about Jesus and what happened to him. This is how ‘hegemonic’ Christianity was around 2002: most of those kids had ‘Christian’ parents, which means they’d been baptized, they’d probably been given three colouring books about Noah’s Ark, they’d collected hay for their Nativity scenes, and still had no idea what Christianity is even about because most people just don’t give a fuck and don’t bother teaching their children anything.
So, no, I don’t have a definite answer on this because I’m not an expert on the issue and as I said there are regional differences and all, but speaking from personal experience, there is no hegemony anymore. As an atheist I like my country’s cultural traditions because they are a connection to our past and my ancestors, so I would like them to continue. I always built a Nativity scene with my parents (both atheists) as a child, and liked hunting for Easter eggs, and occasionally went to Mass or religious events (weddings, baptisms, funerals and the like). I never, not once in my life, had a religious person impose their faith or shout stuff in my face or try to convert me or anything. We had religious classes in school but they were optional, lots of people chose not to go and it was never a problem in any way. Sometimes we’d sit down as a family and talk about stuff - why my friend got to dress up all fancy and get gifts for her confirmation and I didn’t, why my grandma wore a golden cross and my mom didn’t, who were the people living outside the Garden and whether God created them or not and was the whole thing real, where do people go where they die? It was all very natural, every family has their own private rituals and is somehow different from other families. And if you’re not a religious extremist, you can do the same: you take your child out of religious classes, don’t go to Mass, go to your friend’s wedding, explain to your child who the Three Wise Men were and why they are important and why you don’t celebrate them in your home, and share your own culture and rituals that have a connection to your own traditions and ancestors. It doesn’t have to be difficult if people don’t make it difficult.
The real problem imo is not religion but inequality and the impossibility to have a decent life. When you have a good education, have access to good healthcare, can realize your academic, professional and personal goals, you generally don’t care about Nativity scenes in school a whole lot. The reason younger people from an immigration background get radicalized in Europe is because of discrimination and lack of prospects, not because of Christian hegemony. Tbh I think we can build a better society while keeping our Easter egg hunts.
#ask#europe#religion#sharing culture can be inclusive imo#asking people to give up stuff#is how you create more animosity#and more artificial divisions#let's ask for better wages instead#real jobs#good and cheap universities#that's how we move forward together
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"Sometimes I think you have a deathwish." for Wes & Dad!Lance
Kate you are right in having me write Lance more because we can all use more of him in our lives. :’) Please enjoy your disaster son with his new father figure.
Being forty-nine didn’t always come with a ton of benefits, but being set in your ways in regards to how you listened to music was one of them. The cult trucks only ever had tape players, making it harder to listen to anything but the hymns on the radio. Thankfully Lance lived in the era of making mixtapes and he rarely threw any out. Today’s choice was a mix of seventies rock mixed with a few British punk songs, a gift from his half brother when they were friends, and perfect for the long drive back to the valley. He hated being called away by Jacob for refresh training, just another excuse to see how well his conditioning was holding up, and Lance’s hadn’t been in recent months. While it made it harder to hide it had become all the better to help those that left.
Lance had never wanted to get involved this much, but when Cat had set her mind to helping Rafael with his mission, he had to make sure she’d be safe. It was taking a lot of effort for Lance to not get attached to the young men, bad enough he cared so much for Catlina, though he excused it as her being so close in age to his own daughter, he just didn’t need anymore trouble and one of them provided that more than should be normal. Lance sighed as he slowed to take a sharp curve in the road, something reflective hitting his eyes.
He pulled over to the side of the road, needing a moment to readjust his eyes and make sure he didn’t just see what he saw on the side of the road. Lance took a glance over his shoulder, letting out a sigh as he recognized the motorcycle. Stepping out of the car he scanned the area for anything hostile or out of the ordinary before falling back onto the bike. There were some skid marks behind it and a bit of damage that Lance could see. He looked up to the tree line looking for the flash of honey brown hair, the county’s savior, spotting him a few feet in under the shade of an aspen. Lance let out a slow breath as he walked over taking in his appearance. The last time Lance saw him he had a slash to his abdomen and had a feeling this wasn’t going to be any different.
As he got closer he saw the bruising and small bits of dried blood on his cheeks. It looked as if he had walked over to try and hide, despite most of the county knowing what his bike looked like. His face seemed a bit paler than it should have been, but then again it could have just been the lighting. If Lance didn’t know any better he’d say Wes was dead with how still he was for once, but he did and that wasn’t a good sign. Here’s to hoping there’s no major injuries.
Lance put his gun away in the back of jeans bending down to lift the overgrown child, ignoring the small groans of protest from him, laying him in the small backseat of the truck. Lance picked up a bit of railing making a makeshift ramp to get the motorcycle in the bed of the truck. With one last look around the area he jumped back in the truck getting the two of them back to his house as quickly as he could manage. He’d wait to call Cat, she’d be over and worrying faster than he could finish the call and there was the matter of her having to make an appearance at the baptisms with John here soon.
Wes didn’t wake much to other than say he was in pain, or wonder what was happening, Lance could exclude any more brain injury off his list. By the time they made it to his house Wes was more alert and was able to walk into the house. Lance couldn’t help but notice that there was a small limp to Wes’ walk as they made their way to the now converted guest bedroom, something Cat insisted on doing after the last incident with Wes.
“Alright, kid let’s get you laying down,” Lance mumbled as Wes got himself settled on the full size bed. Considering the damage to the motorcycle Lance found it best to look over Wes’ head first for anything out of the ordinary, clean bill of health as far as he could tell. “Sometimes I think you have a death wish,” Lance mused as he took note of the small red mark under the corner of his jaw, “but at least you’re not dumb enough to not wear a helmet.” Lance’s inspection brought up a sprained ankle and wrist, some scrapes, bruises, and a minor concussion. Nothing that a good rest and taking it easy couldn’t fix really. Lance took care of wrapping up the ankle and wrist, elevating them before making his way to the kitchen.
There wasn’t much that he could leave out for Wes to wake up too other than foods that were better classified as snacks, not that it mattered to Wes apparently. It still surprised Lance how much he knew about the kid, albeit all second hand. Lance brought some of the food leaving it on the night stand along with a note informing Wes of his safety and how there was more food in the fridge for him. Lance, lastly, took the blanket at the end of the bed placing it over him, tucking him in before Lance could stop himself, leaving him to care for the old bike.
The damage could have been worse, especially having spun out like he did, and Lance had most of the parts lying around that he should have it fixed by morning. He rolled his sleeves up getting to work on the bike. It felt like second nature to Lance as he let his mind think back to the days before this whole mess, to when things were simpler. How Sage would come for the summers and had made friends here, the festivals, the nights at the bar with friends, the impossibility of Lance finding work as a mechanic, and how there was so much more laughter it seemed. Lance hadn’t had any times that were similar in a long time, which made it feel odd that he had brushes with the better times since Cat started to hang out with Hope County’s notorious pair.
Even before this mess he knew who Rafael and Wes were, how could one not, and alarm bells started to go off the minute Cat had told him about how she wanted to give a gift to the more responsible of the two. They were a package deal and Wes’ reputation hadn’t changed much in the years since he was a lanky teenager trying to win the approval of his father. He was reckless, head still in the clouds, loud in his plans, and had a look at me, but not that close attitude, everything that could get someone like Catlina killed….and yet, here he was caring for the kid. Lance kept telling himself that it was only because she would be devastated if something were to happen to Wes, but it was just an excuse, he did care for Wes. He shouldn’t, but he did and it was hard not too when Lance could still remember the few times they met before this. It was never for very long and even then Lance’s heart went out to the kid as his father seemed to treat him like disappointment for just being him. In Lance’s opinion Wes wasn’t that bad of a kid compared to others, he just didn’t seem to fit whatever ideal Brooks had for a son. Then again it wasn’t like his father was well liked before Wes was born from what it sounded like.
Lance was finishing in tightening a gear when movement caught his eye from the back door. Wes stood in the doorway bowl of pasta in hand, watching him, “Didn’t say you could work on my bike.” Lance noticed how he tried to shift his weight, the pain making him hold his original position.
“You also didn’t ask me to bring you here,” Lance told him as he stood to switch some tools, “Besides it needed the repairs and your wrist is out of commission for a week.” Wes looked down to the bandage as if seeing it for the first time, “I’ve told you once and I’m telling you again,” Lance pointed at him with a wrench, “You got some luck with you, could have been worse.”
Wes swallowed the bite in his mouth, “Thanks,” his eyes strayed down to his feet, “Whatta ‘bout the ankle?”
Lance brought a chair to him, “I say a week, maybe two. Week minimum though.”
“What happens if I don’t?”
Lance gave him a smile, “I tell your bestie,” Wes’ eyes widened as Lance laughed, “Not your other half, so you can calm down, just Cat.”
“Ain’t much better,” Wes took a seat on the chair, “She’s bossy.”
“Cares about ya,” Lance went back to his spot, “Good to have people like that for you.”
“Guess it’s better, she’s nicer.” Wes looked down to the food he had, “She make this?”
Lance shook his head, “Believe it or not I know how to cook. It’s not much but it’s better than living off bar peanuts.” Wes gave Lance a smirk, “Help yourself to as much as you want, kid.” The two sat in silence a bit before Wes started to hum “Blackbird” by The Beatles, “Still start with that song first I see,” Wes’ golden eyes looked his way briefly, “First year I moved up here, needed work and Brooks was mad at Merle so I came over to help out. You’d come out and watch, start hummin’ and then be forced to help us after that.”
His brows knitted together, “Don’t ‘member that.”
Lance threw his head back in a laugh, “Not surprised by that one bit.”
Wes straightened out in the chair, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know the one thing I remember the most about you,” Lance met his eyes, “That lanky teenage boy who wouldn’t give my daughter the time of day ‘cause his head was so far in the clouds to notice anything else.” Lance gave a smirk and small shrug, “Makes sense now why you were, seems you were aimin’ for a local angel. Damn near broke her heart that summer Wes.”
He fell back in the chair, eyes cast down a small flush to his cheeks, “Oh. Sorry.”
Lance waved him off, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Wouldn’t have wanted her anywhere near your dad,” Lance thought a moment, “Okay I never wanted to be near your dad more than I had too.”
“You worked with ‘em though,” Wes said, curious.
“Only when he was mad at whoever he got to work with him previously,” Lance looked over his work, “Gonna need to go somewhere else, unless you don’t care about appearances.” Wes gave a small shrug, “You just gonna fix it later aren’t ya?” Lance gave a nod as his own answer wiping his hands free of the grease pointing to the empty bowl in Wes’ lap, “You want more or somethin’ to drink?”
“Beer if you got some,” Wes said, setting the bowl down on the small table, “please.” He pulled out a carton of cigarettes looking up to Lance, “S’okay to smoke?”
Lance paused, “How many of those you smoke a day?”
He put the butt in his mouth, “Five, maybe less,” he gave a small shrug, “Why?”
“Those things’ll kill ya,” Lance pointed to the box, “You should stop, but always got the feelin’ you aren’t the type to listen to much. Don’t sound like you’re a chain smoker either so have at it. You really should quit, it’s a bad habit.” He took a step through the doorway turning to face Wes once more, “Just don’t be rude and get ash everywhere, use the ashtray.”
Lance got them the drinks quickly sitting upwind of the smoke, “You ever smoke?” Wes held the box out to Lance.
He shook his head, “Not since I was a teenager,” he took a sip of his beer, “Only stopped ‘cause my girlfriend didn’t like them.”
Wes put the box back in his pocket, “Can I ask somethin’?” Lance gave a nod, “What happened to Sage? She lives here right?”
Lance shook his head, “Never did. Just visited for the summers, till school got to be more important.”
“Divorced?”
“Yep,” Lance watched as Wes put the dwindling cigarette in the ashtray, “Lived out in Seattle. Last I know Sage lives in California, finishing up her doctorate at Stanford, with her girlfriend.”
Wes’ eyes moved to Lance quickly, “That why you stopped talking?”
“What do you mean?” Lance looked Wes over trying to figure out what it is that would prompt such a question. “Oh. You think I turned out like your old man,” Lance shook his head, “No never. We stopped ‘cause of me joining. I knew well before that.”
“You proud of her still?”
Lance nodded, “Yeah. I love her, always will be,” Wes looked away from him, he gave Wes a sympathetic look, “Sorry Brooks couldn’t be the same for you,” Lance reached a hand to place on Wes’ shoulder. “You deserved better. I mean look at you now,” Lance assured, “You went through hell and didn’t let it change the soft and caring nature of you. Takes a lot of strength to do that.”
“Cat tell you about that?”
“No. Some small details, but I put enough of it together,” he gave a small squeeze of Wes’ shoulder, “No matter what you did though, Wes, you’re someone to be proud of. Even if he couldn’t see it, there are people here and now that do.”
“Even if I gave up,” Wes asked, leaning back in the chair freeing himself of Lance’s grip.
Lance let out a breath, “If you feel that way then it means you need help,” he gave a series of small nods before continuing, “Got people here that are wanting to help you. No need to carry everyone’s expectations on your shoulders alone.”
“You one of those people?” Wes asked, looking up through his lashes to Lance. Those same eyes Lance saw all those years ago when all Wes wanted was his dad to tell him what a good job he was doing. The ones that pleaded for some kind of approval from a man that was never going to give it, eyes that Lance couldn’t do anything about because it wasn’t his business back then. What a mistake that was. The least Lance could have done back then was tell Wes himself he was doing a good job in what he was doing. Little things like that would have mattered the world to a young Wes and he didn’t do any of it.
That was then but this is now and Lance wasn’t ready to make the same mistake twice, “Yeah, kid, I’m one of those people,” he gave a small slap on Wes’ back, “I’ll always be one of those people for you.” He gave Wes a smile, “You want a hug, kid?” Wes looked up to him curious, Lance shrugging, “Sometimes it helps make people feel better. Don’t have to. Brooks never seemed like much of a hugger.”
“Not much of anything,” Wes scoffed.
Lance gave a quick raise of his eyebrows, “Fair. Probably learned it from his dad, cause my old man was the same way.”
“You don’t seem like them,” Wes noted, fingers pulling at the paper label.
“Didn’t want to be. Promised I’d be better,” Lance stared past the bottle in his hand, “Don’t have to repeat the same mistakes. Get to be your own person.”
“No one wants that,” Lance looked over to Wes, slumped in the seat defeated, “Just disappoints people.”
“Cat’s not disappointed, neither am I,” Lance finished off his beer placing the bottle on the table, “You’ve done so much for this place by just being you, I feel proud of ya. I think you could work on being a bit smarter,” Lance gave a small chuckle, “but still proud of you, kid.”
Wes picked at the edges of the wrap around his wrist, his eyes turned down to the ground, “Thanks,” he brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “For everything. Know you’re just doin’ it for her, taking care of me and all. I still appreciate it though.”
It really wasn’t just for Cat at this point, there was no doubting that now. Wes was still trouble but trouble that Lance couldn’t turn his back on, not again. Lance stood putting his hand out to Wes, “Come on, let’s get that ankle elevated. We can watch a movie before it’s off to bed for you.”
“I’m stayin’ the night,” Wes asked using Lance’s hand as leverage to pull himself up from the chair.
“Call it intuition,” Lance said, helping Wes into the house, “but how else am I going to know you’re going to take my instructions seriously.”
Wes gave a small eye roll, “Might be a fair assessment.” Lance sat Wes down on the couch, “What about tomorrow? Can I stay?”
“Why-?” Lance took a look at the small fear in Wes’ eyes, “Oh, right. Your better half.” Lance looked around the house, “Cat mentioned you didn’t like him chastising you.”
“So….,” Wes prompted.
“You can stay long as you need. I won’t be home though, gotta go back to work.” He gave a stern look to Wes pointing a finger at him, “So no wild parties boy,” Lance gave a small smile, Wes giving him a smirk. “Just don’t make a mess of the place and you can stay. Though I doubt Rafael can say anything to ya.”
Wes hummed, “Why you say that?”
“Cause you’re being responsible and you got me as your witness,” Lance responded, sliding the box of movies towards Wes, “Pick whatever you want, I’ll make us some popcorn.” Lance walked into the kitchen, getting the stove hot, “Oh should mention now, the second drawer on the dresser has clothes for you that you can use. Just place them in the hamper when you change.”
Wes turned looking at him an eyebrow raised, “How is there-,” he didn’t finish as he thought it over, “She really thinks of everything doesn’t she?”
“For you two? Always,” he placed some oil in the pot, “So if you could, Wes,” Lance met Wes’ eyes sternly, “think of her a bit in your actions. I know you’re friends but she cares deeply about you, she doesn’t ever want to lose you and I don’t want to see her hurt. You understand?” Wes’ eyes looked down solemnly before nodding, “Good. Now I just gotta tell Rafael that too.”
Wes smiled, rolling his eyes, “Good luck.”
“I can do it,” Lance focused back on the popcorn, “Just gotta find the right words cause his is gonna be worse. I gotta let him know how much he’ll hurt if he breaks her heart.”
“Don’t think he likes her like that,” Wes informed Lance, glancing back at the box of movies.
Lance gave a snort, “Yeah, right. Just you watch, those two will be inseparable soon enough.”
“Then there’ll be two of ‘em,” Wes breathed out in slight horror.
“Better prepare yourself, kid,” Lance turned the stove off before going to get their movie set up, “You got a big storm comin’ your way.” Lance looked over giving a laugh as he watched the words process in Wes’ head.
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Now that She Ra is over, what are your thoughts on it? What about that Catradora kiss?
Hi Anon! Thank you for the Ask!
ヽ(*⌒∇⌒*)ノ Where to start?
I have so many thoughts on the show, and I’ve had so many thoughts since season 1. I’ve not written much of anything about She-Ra because I keep coming back to this problem of ‘where to start,’ or how to structure my thoughts beyond a +1000 item list. I can’t even pick one or two thoughts to dive into, because they all end up connecting to everything else —> honestly, that’s the mark of a tight narrative, even the big pieces that can fully stand on their own are still leading through to another piece. I fail at every attempt to write something brief.
Section I: Short answer first.
I have a very short and subjective list of media where I not only love (for different reasons) nearly every character (main, secondary, background), but where I also feel that their individual places or moments or arcs concluded in a way that felt right from start to finish. It’s a short list of media where connections and conflict between characters never felt forced, out-of-place, out-of-context, or done for shock value. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power makes that very short and subjective list.
It’s not often that a story hits all the right notes with me, and it’s much more often that a story starts off strong like that, and then turns me off ½-⅔ of the way through. I’ve quit video games during the final boss fight because the story lost me in the lead-up and I wasn’t going to waste 10-20 minutes of my time for something that turned out to be ‘meh’. It ain’t got to be deep, or anything either.
I really loved the voice acting. Everyone is great. A post for another time.
I love the aesthetics, which I wasn’t sure of at first teasers, but won me over in less than 3 minutes of the first episode (season 1) because I love bright pastels, the character designs are fun (can I still gush over variety of body types? YES), so many opportunities to explore stylish takes on the characters, and those Moebius-inspired scenery/background designs are a special interest delight. Season 5 delivered a visual ‘end game’ for the aesthetics in many ways, Section III further down will get into that a bit.
Section II: “What about that Catradora kiss?”
I gotta preface this with, shipping is not my go-to for how I enjoy creative works. It’s not a hobby for me. Sure there’s a few I dig more than others, but I’m otherwise agnostic about ships, unless there is a really bad story-fit (and that’s usually a subjective thing), or involves tropes that are a deal-breaker for me (and those typically relate a lot to the story fit).
With that said, I’m really happy to see Catradora be pulled off so brilliantly, and I think the kiss is a bold and beautiful big deal in a way that might not be obvious when considered in a vacuum. I see it as passionate and heart-felt, but also, it’s achieving(?) a relatable outcome (for me at least) that’s hard to describe. It’s an outcome yielded by a story in which two women—a hero and a villain—are divided and fight bitterly and then reconcile through love, while fighting a purity cult whose founder-prophet-god-king forces subservience through a conversion designed to strip someone of their identity (e.g. names they’ve chosen for themselves), memories-and-motivations, and love for others.
Despite these conversions, love still remains, it can’t just be baptized or therapy-ed away. Controlling puritans and authoritarians wielding religion or peace-panaceas as a weapon have been the villains in the lives of countless women and LGBTQIA people for a very long time. So yeah, I’ve got some feels about that. The last time I felt anything similarly relatable, or as strongly, was the Utena and Anthy relationship in Revolutionary Girl Utena (and really, their kiss during the surreal sequence at the end of the film adaptation).
Section III: Thoughts on Cult Aesthetics and Clones (the rough cut)
(1) In the future scenes at the end, Adora’s white dress with gold tiara and accents have this kind of goddess-like or Pallas Athena feel to it, which is a great mirror of the design choices for the god-like Horde Prime, his Purity Space Cult, mechanics/ship, and flagship interior scenery. Not saying that was the intention, but that’s how it came across to me.
Of course, those colors would be used because She-Ra already wears white and gold with a bit of red accent, which complement how the princesses are bright and colorful (pastels and jewel tones). The bold and bright colors helps signify that Etheria is full of life. Etheria is verdant and magical, and that sets up a contrast to the Fright Zone and the darker colors found in Horde characters (Hordak, Shadow Weaver, Scorpia, Catra, Entrapta, etc).
So the first kind of contrast was with the Fright Zone standing out as a poisoned/toxic against the bright, lively colors of Etheria and the princesses. Season 5 introduces another take on that contrast as Horde Prime is the opposite, or antithesis of Etheria’s colorful life. He’s like anti-life with his shades of light-and-dark grays on white, and only glow-green as an accent. In some cultures and religious traditions, white is associated with purity, and in others it is associated with death.
When Horde Prime ‘purifies’ Hordak for the sins of individuality and emotion (emotion for others, for his own sake), Hordak is drained of the colors he chose for himself during exile. In addition to being a contrast to Horde Prime (and informed by the 80s cartoon design), Hordak’s dark blue (or blue-black) and red color palette reflects the traditional use of red as a color for evil (especially vampirism) from back when diabolism was a stand-in for ‘the Devil’ in many forms of visual media (comics, live-action, animation, etc). In place of diabolic red, Horde Prime has toxic glow-green.
I absolutely love the use of the glow-green accents. Color trends for villains and significations of evil come and go, and I’m glad to see the color green be used again, and used so well. The last time I saw that shade of glow-green used so well was in Sleeping Beauty (re: Maleficent’s magic and the orb on her staff) and as the Loc-Nar in Heavy Metal. In both films, there are connotations of evil as a poisonous and corrupting influence. Green, in the context of evil, almost always signifies poison (and sometimes envy). I also like that the glow-green color is used in ways that aren’t immediately saying ‘this is evil’, such as the green baptismal waters and flames from the purification scene, or the green amniotic protein fluid. The language of piety and trappings of the sacred can cloak a sinister purpose.
I don’t know if any of that was intentional, but Horde Prime feels like the perfect synergy of purity and death (which has additional connotations, but that’s a very personal interpretation).
(2) Horde Prime immediately gave me subtle cult vibes in his first cameo (Season 3), and the follow-through on that was perfect and exactly what I was hoping to see. The background music throughout the scenes aboard the flagship fits well (love the soundtrack), and has the quality of Ecstatic Experience without pulling directly from any specific religion. Horde Prime’s dialogue is a delightful bit of narcissism veiled with the language of piety.
A purity cult comprised of clone-brother-worshippers of the cult’s founder-prophet-god-king reinforces that narcissism and has all the fun-dark feels of shiny-techno-future-dystopias. It is also an interesting use of clones, especially in a story format that usually never has the time to really dive into the complexities of cloning. This is the sort of thing that you’d be more likely to see in a one-off episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, rather than the basis for a greater scope villain, or multi-season nemesis. (and yes, Star Trek: TNG had an interesting clone episode)
Clones in science-fiction tend to fall into just a few tropes, and I generally dislike seeing clones show up in a story because the execution nearly always feels sloppy (in small ways or big ways). I did not get that feeling from She-Ra, where, the clones occupy the “cog in the machine” trope, but it is not their existence as clones that make them that way, it is the Will of Horde Prime that does. They are simultaneously expendable and sacred in their unity. It’s a nice flip on “stronger by working together” that Adora and the others have to learn (and struggle) to do.
It seems like, despite their religious programming, the clones have a little bit of their own personalities until Horde Prime ‘inhabits’ them to exert his Will. I’m trying not to read too much into it, b/c what comes across as ‘inhabits’ to me (especially with the religious/cult context), was probably meant more literal like described in the dialogue as a hive-mind control kind of thing. The first time it happens—to post-wipe/death Hordak—felt to me like a possession scene from The Exorcist, but without the kind of horror visuals that would scare both adults and children. The quick-and-subtle amount of body contortion and sound is still gross and creepy (because it should be), but it also reminds me of Ecstatic Experience in the form of speaking in tongues, or snake handling, or being a medium for a spirit. Again, I’m not saying any of that is intentional, but that’s how I see it.
(3) Finally, there is Entrapta, Hordak, and Wrong Hordak. Clones rarely get to be ‘humanized’ through friendship or romance arcs. I can think of a dozen or more robots that get to be humanized in that way, but can’t recall any clones that have (excluding doomed clones whose friendship/romance only existed for the sake of selling the tragedy of their death). Hordak gets death, renewal, and romance in a way that worked really well, and the totality of it is unique. I was a bit surprised that they could work in another clone—and I love Wrong Hordak—who pulls triple-duty as (1) comedy; (2) relevant to moving various pieces of the story along; and (3) more humanizing of the clones, which, again rarely happens as most stories take the easy low road when it comes to clones.
For Entrapta’s part, she’s never put in the position of giving up who she is (‘weird’ by many standards) for a romance. Her passion for technology is both an amusing double entendre at times, and integral to who she is. A romance for Entrapta does not replace her passion for technology, she can have both. Dating myself but, I came up in a time where most media (for children or adults) would rob a woman of her agency or passions during the resolution of a romance arc. Maybe times have changed, but it’s still nice to see none of that nonsense happening here.
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WIPs!
Stolen from @mouseclarke!
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!
Okay, so I generally don’t let myself start writing something until it has a designated document, which has lead to some pretty interesting placeholder titles sticking over the years. But anyway, my Fallout WIPs- excluding Whumptober-linked stuff- are as follows...
A Meeting- features Sid
After the Storm 🕸️- James and JJ
Ashlen 🕸️- contains all of the New Canaan guys, plus Tibbs
B is for BAJAR- Tibbs
Baptism of Fire- JJ, later on Charlie and Chel in a sense
Class Distinction- Charlie and Brutus
Critical 🕸️- James and JJ
Darkness Be Over Me- Charlie and Chel
From The Diary Of An Undisclosed Canaanite Girl- New Canaan cast plus Tibbs
Glancing Dart- Sid
Incognita- Charlie, mentions of Sid
It Takes a Legion- Charlie and Chel
One For My Baby ⚠️- Charlie and Brutus
Puppy Love- JJ
Remedy 🕸️- James and JJ
Scream If You Need To- none of the main cast
Thank You- James
Too Quiet 🕸️- none of the main cast directly, but JJ is mentioned
X is for Xian- Tibbs
Water- James and JJ
When the Swallows Left Capistrano 🕸️- Ezra
When We Remembered Zion- JJ
A cobweb emoji (🕸️) next to a title means that that project is currently mothballed for... world-y reasons, and a warning triangle (⚠️) means I can hardly say anything about the project without giving away some of the few major spoilers I haven’t already let slip. You can still ask about these, but be aware that my answers will probably be very vague!
I’d feel kind of cheeky tagging people to share something like this haha, but if you want to do it, go ahead and pretend I tagged you!
#this makes me realise just how many wips I have -_-#I'd be surprised if 25% of them ever reach full completion#wip wednesday#in a sense lol#writing
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