#pilgrimage of the Magi

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Visit of the Magi

1 Now when Yeshua was born in Beit-Lechem of Yehudah in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Yerushalayim, saying,

2 "Where is he who is born King of the Yehudim? For we saw his star in the east, and have come to worship him."

3 When Herod the king heard it, he was troubled, and all Yerushalayim with him.

4 Gathering together all the chief Kohanim and Sofrim of the people, he asked them where the Messiah would be born.

5 They said to him, "In Beit-Lechem of Yehudah, for thus it is written through the prophet,

6 'You Beit-Lechem, land of Yehudah, Are in no way least among the princes of Yehudah: For out of you shall come forth a governor, Who shall shepherd my people, Yisra'el.'"

7 Then Herod secretly called the wise men, and learned from them exactly what time the star appeared.

8 He sent them to Beit-Lechem, and said, "Go and search diligently for the young child. When you have found him, bring me word, so that I also may come and worship him."

9 They, having heard the king, went their way; and behold, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, until it came and stood over where the young child was.

10 When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceedingly great joy.

11 They came into the house and saw the young child with Miryam, his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Opening their treasures, they offered to him gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

12 Being warned in a dream that they shouldn't return to Herod, they went back to their own country another way. — Matthew 2:1-12 | Hebrew Names Version (HNV) The Hebrew Names Version Bible is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 41:8; Numbers 24:17; Judges 17:7; 1 Chronicles 5:2; Ezra 2:21; Job 33:15-16; Song of Solomon 3:6; Isaiah 60:6; Jeremiah 23:5; Matthew 1:20; Matthew 2:16; Matthew 24:6; Mark 13:7; John 7:42; Acts 24:22

[vahalia-cress]

⸸ Ilyon Asoh ⸸

Violence/Tenderness: DAY 2 @daily-writing-challenge

Violent lands wrought with countless years of tribal wars and strife. Such was the way of Tural and its inhabitants, older rather than newer. It had only come to know peace within the past 80 years during Gulool Ja Ja who sought to unite the people of Tural as a nation. And it stood, thriving even, to this day when he was setting his Promises out into the world to partake in their Rite of Succession. They considered it a pilgrimage where Vahalia was from, and the two weren’t too far off from one another in their respective purposes. It was never about the end but the journeys in between.

Vahalia had felt that nostalgia pluck at her memory bank, as she sat before the fire watching it crackle and flickler within the night air. A little over a decade ago it had been her, two others and their mentor traveling around the world taking up odd jobs on the side of their studies as Magi. It felt like a lifetime ago, she was a different person then than she was now, perhaps all roads eventually led her to this very place.

This journey.

Light golden eyes cut towards the two sleeping figures in their sleeping rolls. Cordelia and Wren were seemingly well protected as Vahalia and Castien had taken the first watch.

They had boarded the dirigibles into Yak’T’el taking their mounts with them and settled for the evening just at the outskirts of the Village of Ilyon Asoh beside the biggest tree they could find to shield them from the gentle tapping of rain they had felt prior in their travels.

A soft ruffle of the Chocobo feathers came and once more the large, geared, and armored avians adjusted back into their comforts. Castien came into few and placed the foul she had procured along the triad of sticks she had prepared prior, “Enough for the evening and morning.” she commented, dusting off her hands and exhaling as she took a load off alongside the trunk of the tree beside Vahalia.

“I take it you’ve pinned down a good idea of the land? You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Bought a few maps in Iq Br’aax, I couldn’t say no to a good start, it’ll benefit my maps later when I piece it all together,” Castien replied and she dug into her pack beside her to pull out a sketchbook and a charcoal pencil, already doodling away.

“Have you always had a fondness for cartography and art?”

“Not always but it was all I had. I didn’t have my mother around and ended up in an orphanage before I was six years old. We couldn’t afford much there so I would sometimes find scraps of paper on the ground or get pieces of scrolls from the kitchen staff after they were done with their recipes. I used to use the soot from the fireplaces after the fires died down in the mornings and I would find an interest in creating images that way. When I could afford my first paintset I was drawn to landscapes and the people.” Castien chuckled as she looked sidelong to Vahalia, “S’pose that does that to a person when you’re locked up and don’t go far. When you become your own person you sort of just want to see everything and know everything around you. I always found it…calming.”

A low hum emitted from Vahalia as she eyed the sketchbook, hardly seeing anything to truly judge what was within but she had seen Castien’s work before, plenty of times even commissioning her and buying her maps, especially when it came to her first purchasing ships for trade. There was very little to scrutinize however, she did find familiar ground with the prospect of something beautiful coming from the depths of depression and longing, abandonment and trauma.

Tenderly Vahalia’s lips curled into a subtle smile – it wasn’t perfect but it remained all the same, “you made something of yourself despite the things baring your way. I admire that.”

“Thank you.” Castien tilted her head and smirked in Vahalia’s direction.

“Some people are the prize, some are the punishment.” she retorted quietly and she slowly returned her gaze to the flickering fire before them.

“And which do you consider yourself, Vahalia?”

“That depends on who you ask.” Lady Cress’s gentle smile eventually twitched into a bit of a smirk. She was both hellfire and holy water, what you drank depended on how you treated her.

[renee-writer]

Seeking the Savior

Simeon ( said), “Can I stay alive until I see Him?”

The Magi ( said), “ Saddle up the camels. We aren’t stopping until we see Him.”

The shepherds ( said), “Let’s go…Let’s  see.”

The wanted the Savior. They wanted to see Jesus.

They were earnest in their search. One translation renders Hebrews 11: 6: “ God…rewards those  who earnestly seek Him.” ( NIV)

Another reads, ‘God…rewards those who search for Him.” ( Phillips).

And another: “God… rewards those who sincerely look for Him.” ( TLB)

I like the King James translation: “He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.”

Diligently – what a great word. Be diligent in your search. Be hungry in your quest, relentless in your pilgrimage. Let this book be one of dozens you read about Jesus and this hour be one of hundreds in which you seek Him. Step away from the puny pursuits of possessions and positions, and seek your King.

Don’t be satisfied with angels. Don’t be content with stars in the sky. Seek Him out as the shepherds did. Long for Him as Simeon did. Worship Him as the wise men did... Risk whatever it takes to see Christ.

God rewards those who seek Him. Not those who seek doctrine or religion or systems or creeds. Many settle for the lesser passions, but the reward goes to those who settle for nothing less than Jesus Himself.

Just Like Jesus

Max Lucado

[eternal-echoes]

“We must therefore endeavour to make the face of Christ visible, the face of the living God, so that like the Magi we may spontaneously fall to our knees and adore him. Two things certainly happened in the Magi: first they sought; then they found and worshipped him.

Today, many people are searching. We too are searching. Basically, in a different dialectic, both these things must always exist within us. We must respect each one's own search. We must sustain it and make them feel that faith is not merely a dogmatism complete in itself that puts an end to seeking, that extinguishes man's great thirst, but that it directs the great pilgrimage towards the infinite; we, as believers, are always simultaneously seekers and finders.”

- Pope Benedict XVI, APOSTOLIC JOURNEY TO COLOGNE ON THE OCCASION OF THE XX WORLD YOUTH DAY - MEETING WITH THE GERMAN BISHOPS, 21 August 2005

[cappiestuff]

THE EPIPHANY OF THE LORD A

THE EPIPHANY OF THE LORD A

An “epiphany” is an appearance. In today’s readings, with their rising stars, splendorous lights, and mysteries revealed, the face of the Child born on Christmas day appears. The Magi’s pilgrimage in today’s Gospel marks the fulfillment of God’s promises. The Magi, probably Persian astrologers, are following the star that Balaam predicted would rise along with the ruler’s staff over the house of…

[persephoneggsy]

A little write-up on Hildegarde Trevelyan and her family bc OC thoughts are dominant thoughts right now

Hildegarde Trevelyan: the youngest daughter of the Trevelyan family (and in fact, the only trueborn daughter of Lord Trevelyan), Hildegarde is a meek, unassuming young woman who would much rather be holed up with her studies than lead a holy organization. She’s incredibly anxious and prone to bouts of extreme insecurity. Despite having intelligence and power in spades and a great tactical mind, she’d much rather let someone else take the lead, because she’s terrified of messing up and ruining everything.

Of course, when she’s caught in the crossfire at the Conclave and winds up the Herald of Andraste, her desire to keep her head down and stay out of trouble is completely disregarded. Luckily, her anxiety is balanced out by a genuine desire to help make things better. She’s deeply empathetic and will always try to help out where she can, even if she stretches herself too thin.

She’s passionate about learning, with a special interest in architecture, as well as learning more about the Fade. She believes the best way to fight fear is through knowledge (as you can imagine, Solas took a shine to her lol).

With the friends she makes through the Inquisition (and the love and support from a certain former templar) Hildegarde grows into a capable and confident leader in her own right.

Hannelore Trevelyan (nee Barragan): Hildegarde’s mother. Hildegarde never actually knew her, due to Hannelore passing away shortly after she was born. Hannelore was a noble from a minor Nevarran family, who had an arranged marriage with an older lord, also Nevarran. Though she wasn’t in love with her first husband, they respected each other, and they had three children together.

She took a very active role in her children’s lives, not wanting them to be raised solely by nannies like she was. After her first husband passed away (from old age), she eventually met a Free Marcher noble, Abelarde, and was endeared towards his enthusiasm for admittedly niche subjects. The two grew close, and after a year of courting, Abelarde proposed and Hannelore accepted. The family moved to Ostwick (despite protests from some of her children), and Hannelore was delighted to find that she was already pregnant with their first child. She’s the one who picked Hildegarde’s name.

Abelarde Trevelyan: Hildegarde’s father. Known as an incredibly devout Andrastian, Abelarde spent his early years studying chantry history, and has published books on several subjects, though his true passion is architecture, which is something he passed down to his trueborn daughter. He met and fell deeply in love with Hannelore during a research trip to Nevarra. He bonded with and got on well with Hannelore’s children.

When Hildegarde was born, however, he was utterly devoted to her; most suspect his over abundance of affection came from grief at losing Hannelore after the birth, and while he didn’t neglect his step children, it was clear to all who his favorite was.

When Hildegarde’s magic manifested at age 13, he briefly considered hiding her from the Circle, not wanting to lose her. But ultimately, he conceded and sent her away to Ostwick’s Circle of Magi. He still kept in contact with her via weekly letters and gifts, though unbeknownst to him, his affections resulted in the other young mages at the Circle viewing Hildegarde as a spoiled brat, and she felt isolated as a result. Despite that, Hildegarde adores her father.

By the time the Conclave occurs, Abelarde is beside himself with worry; he knows Hilde was due to appear at the Conclave with her Circle, and after he hears about the explosion, his heart breaks. Thankfully, one of the first things Hildegarde does upon getting her bearings in Haven is write to her father. He nearly makes the pilgrimage to Haven, but is stopped by his eldest stepson, who is worried about the Breach. Part of him is proud that Hildegarde is the Herald of Andraste, but he’s mostly a nervous ball of anxiety and dread because now she’s in near constant danger. After Haven is destroyed and Hilde relocates to Skyhold, he can’t take it anymore and goes to the fortress to see her for himself.

After that, he becomes a semi-regular fixture at Skyhold, wanting to keep an eye on his daughter, reconnect with Edwin and Edeline, and study Skyhold’s fascinating architecture. Plus, he wants to keep an eye on that Cullen fellow, who seems to be getting rather cozy with Hildegarde…

Ewald Barragan-Trevelyan: Hildegarde’s oldest half-brother. With a 13 year age difference between them, Ewald didn’t spend much time with his youngest sister, though he was rather fond of her. Much of Ewald’s attention was taken up preparing for his role as a nobleman.

Some consider him rather lucky, since his birth father, Lord Barragan, wasn’t the heir to the estate, so he inherited very little from him. But because Abelarde’s trueborn heir turned out to be a mage, he named Ewald his successor instead, thus granting him power over the much more influential House Trevelyan (to some controversy, of course; Ewald is Nevarran, regardless of his stepfather’s nationality). Ewald, for his part, only cares about being a good lord for those under his jurisdiction.

Upon learning Hildegarde survived the Conclave, was named Herald of Andraste, and later Inquisitor, he felt proud of her, but was unsure if he could express it because of how distant their relationship was. At his stepfather’s urging, he visits Skyhold to tell her so in person. Hildegarde, to his shock and dismay, starts crying. (She’s happy crying, but it takes him several panicked minutes to realize this.) 

Of his biological siblings, he’s the closest to their stepfather, having bonded with him after Hildegarde was sent to the Circle.

Edeline Barragan: Hildegarde’s half-sister. Dignified, dutiful, and disciplined are three words one would use to describe Edeline. Spiteful, insecure, and cruel are another three. Edeline was only ten was Hildegarde was born, but because the birth also resulted in the death of her beloved mother, she blamed the babe and was determined to keep her new sister at arm’s length. Hildegarde barely remembers anything about her because of this, and what little she does remember isn’t great; Edeline treated her more like an inconvenient pet than a sister (to the chagrin of Abelarde, who tried to talk to Edeline about her attitude; unfortunately, Edeline didn’t like him much better than Hildegarde.)

For all her cruelty, Edeline does care deeply about her family — who she considers her real family, anyway. She looks up to Ewald and is fiercely protective of Edwin. She joined the templars (a longtime childhood dream of hers), and quickly rose through the ranks and earned the respect of her peers. She views mages as creatures deserving pity — though not, notably, as people. She actually feels sorry for Hildegarde in this respect.

When she heard that Hildegarde was named the Herald of Andraste, and that some of her fellow soldiers actually considered her holy, she was furious. Her mousy, spoiled half-sister, a divine prophet? Ha!

Though Edwin, who had followed her for most of his life, thought that this was a sign to make amends with their half sister, Edeline saw it as another obstacle. When she was offered a strange new form of lyrium that was promised to make her even stronger, she took it without hesitation. And not a moment too soon — she heard that Hildegarde and her new entourage were coming to Therinfal Redoubt.

(Edeline will eventually be redeemed, but it’s a long and frankly exhausting road for everyone involved.)

Edwin Barragan: Hildegarde’s youngest half-brother. Edwin’s always been more of a follower, specifically towards Edeline; he followed her to the templars, but even before that, he followed her in everything since they were children… including the neglect of their half-sister. Edwin had his moments, though, being the first to apologize for a prank gone too far, and he would occasionally send Hildegarde gifts for her birthday. Still, overall, not the best brother, and that’s a fact that’s haunted him ever since Hilde was sent to the Circle. He knows what some of his fellow templars were like regarding mages — he worried for Hildegarde, but because they were related he couldn’t get stationed at her Circle due to conflict of interest.

When news comes that Hilde is the Herald, Edwin is overjoyed — she survived the Mage-Templar war, she survived the Conclave, and now she was coming to save the templars! Unfortunately, Edeline disagreed with his optimism, which led to their first real fight. Edeline went off with the Red Templars while Edwin joined the Inquistion.

In the Inquisition, Edwin finally apologizes to Hildegarde for his behavior and the two begin to reconnect as siblings. He also gets to bond more with his stepfather, who is delighted that his family is finally coming together. Edwin’s main mission is tracking down Edeline and trying to bring her back to reason.

He serves under Cullen, a man he has great respect for… Until he hears rumors among the soldiers that the Commander and the Inquisitor were caught sucking face on the battlements. Then he storms the Commander’s room to give him the shovel talk of the century. (Hildegarde is mortified. Abelarde approves. Cullen takes the whole thing very graciously. He has siblings, too; he knows how it is.)

Also, Edwin has a not-so-secret crush on Ser Delrin Barris.

[fr-martin-gospel-reflections]

6th January - ‘Falling to their knees, they did him homage’, Reflection on the readings for the feast of the Epiphany (Mt 2:1-12)

The Epiphany of the Lord

The night sky has always been a source of fascination for people. In the city we don’t really see the night sky in all its splendour. The city lights dim our view, even when the sky is clear. Air pollution doesn’t help either. Seeing the night sky from a place where there is no artificial light and no pollution is to see it in all its glory. The sky is alive with stars and planets. This was how the night sky was seen by people in the time of Jesus. The wise men in today’s gospel reading are often depicted in our cribs and carols as kings. However, the gospel describes them as magi, what we would call today astrologers, wise men who studied the movement of the stars in the hope that it would cast light on what is happening or about to happen on earth. In Israel at the time, such magi would have been associated with lands to the east, especially ancient Persia which is modern day Iran.

In the ancient world, the appearance of a new star or a comet was often associated with the birth or death of a great ruler. According to our gospel reading, when these magi from the east noticed a new star rising, they associated it with the birth of the long awaited King of the Jews, and so they set out in search of this child. Their fascination with the wonders of creation launched them on a spiritual journey, a pilgrimage. They found signs of God in the wonder and majesty of creation. Many people today find that God comes to them in and through the beauty and splendour of creation. A walk by the sea, along a river, in a beautiful park, or up a mountain, becomes a spiritual experience. It lifts their hearts to God. Saint Paul in his letter to the Romans writes that God’s ‘eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made’. The magi are patrons of all those who adopt a contemplative stance towards nature, who are open to the ways God may be speaking to them though God’s wonderful creation.

The magi are also patrons of all who spend their lives searching for what ultimately satisfies, who go on a journey in search of the divine. From their home in the east, the magi searched the sky to understand the world more fully. Eventually, that search took them on a different kind of search. They left their home and set out on a long journey, guided by the new star they had seen rising. There is something of the searcher, the seeker, in each one of us. There is always some restlessness within us, a restlessness of the spirit and of the heart. Saint Augustine said that our hearts are restless until they rest in God. That spiritual restlessness often sends us forth on pilgrimage to places that have been touched by God in some special way. We leave home, if only for a few days or weeks, and we set out to a holy place where we sense we will meet the Lord or the Lord will meet us. Even if we never set out on a physical pilgrimage, like the magi, we will always be giving exp5ression to this spiritual restlessness within us, this deep rooted desire to come closer to God. It is this restlessness which inspires us to pray, brings us to Mass and to the sacraments.

As well as being aware of our searching spirit, we can also be aware of being drawn by the one for whom we search. Jesus says of himself that he came to seek out the lost. His search for us is prior to our search for him, and our search for him is ultimately in response to his search of us, his searching love. The Lord, in searching for us, draws us to himself. The Lord drew the magi to himself through a star. Their searching spirit was guided by the draw of this mysterious phenomenon of nature. The Lord drew them to himself from within the world with which they were familiar, the world of the night sky. The Lord often draws us to himself from within the world that is familiar to us. He speaks to us, draws us, from within the circumstances of our day to day lives. According to the Book of Exodus, God drew Moses to himself through a bush burning in the wilderness where he was minding sheep. We need to be alert to the ways the Lord draws us from within the familiar patterns and routines of our lives.

The star led the magi towards Bethlehem, which literally means ‘House of Bread’. There they worshipped the Christ child and gave him their precious gifts. They found the one they had been seeking, in spite of the hostility of Herod. In our own search for the Lord, there will often be dark forces, like Herod, that try to deflect us from our search. Yet, the story of the magi assures us that the light of the Lord’s presence shines in that darkness and will not be overcome by it. If we remain true to our search, the Lord will bring us to Bethlehem. He will draw us to himself to feed the deepest hungers of our heart.

[votestaynight2]

10th Day - darkwood,sleepingbeauty(Scene 4)

"It's Tohsaka. I don't even have to think about it." "W-Why? Rin's oppressive, greedy, and loud like a myna bird. But you still like her more? Are you a pervert?"

"No. This isn't like that. This is about whether I'm going to obey Tohsaka, right? Then I'm going to obey her. I can't stop Zouken by myself, and Archer saved my life."

"That's… because Archer is your…"

"I'll give her the right to command me. See, that's just like being a Servant. Tohsaka, if that's what you want, it won't bother me at all." I confirm with Tohsaka.

"…………" "Tohsaka? Hey, don't ask someone a question and then ignore the answer."

"Oh―――y-yeah, I'm glad you understand. My Archer put his trust in you, so we're working together now. He gave everything for you, so work hard and return the favor." "Of course. I have to return what I borrowed."

…That's right. No matter how things ended up this way, my left arm has been replaced by Archer's. But Archer disappeared without fulfilling his contract with Tohsaka. It's only right that I succeed the promises he's made.

"Then let's part here for now. I'm going back to my house to pack, so you go on ahead." "……? Pack? Are you going to come to my house?"

"Of course. We're cooperating now, so we have to be together. Ilya doesn't want to be at my house, and Sakura's living at your place. Your house has to be the main base, no matter how we look at it."

"Oh, yeah. When you put it that way, it makes sense." "…Geez. I thought you were firm, but you're pretty loose too. Maybe I made the wrong choice." Tohsaka sighs and starts walking in the opposite direction.

"…? My house is this way, Ilya. Why are you following Tohsaka?" "It's just for a bit. Rin wants my help, so I'm going to go with her. I'll head over there as soon as we're done, so you go ahead." "…?" Ilya's going to help Tohsaka…?

"Really, Tohsaka?" "Yeah. This is a serious matter, so we need one or two secret weapons. A secret I can't unlock myself might open to an Einzbern magus. ……But I really don't want to find one. If Tohsaka's inheritance, Kishua's keepsake, is just as I imagine, it's not something I can handle myself."

"Then I'm going as well. I'm not interested in Kishua's keepsake, but Zel Schweinorg's treasure chest sounds pretty." Ilya's skirt flutters as she runs off.

"……Kishua? Zel? Schweinorg?" I tilt my head in wonder. I've never heard those names before. Are they famous among legitimate magi?

Interlude 10-4

The guests have left. The chapel regains its silence and the priest looks up at the statue. "――――Was it fine to let the Holy Grail go?" The voice comes from behind. Where was he hiding? The golden-haired man asks the priest cheerfully.

"I do not mind. I never had any attachment to it. I will not stop the Holy Grail from siding with them." "You're right. You had no wish from the start――――if your words are true, it would not make sense to stop the Holy Grail." The man laughs. The priest's words… As if to make fun of the fact that he has no wish.

"――――――――" He does indeed speak the truth. It is just that the golden-haired man cannot comprehend the fact, but the priest has no wish. Kotomine Kirei does not need the power of the Holy Grail. All he has is a thorough inquiry.

The Holy Grail merely answers one's wish. It is a machine to create the desired outcome for one's own question. Is there a meaning in obtaining the answer that one wishes for?

"Kotomine. Let me ask again. You really have no interest in the Holy Grail?" "I have no interest in a machine that grants wishes. The same should go for you, Gilgamesh. Our goals are not our wishes. We are merely seeking pleasure because it is more fun that way. It is like eating food. A wish is something that is answered. But humans will not be saved if a wish grants itself."

The priest keeps staring up at the statue. ――――And beyond it. To ten years in the past, when he still had a wish.

The man is a child his father was gifted with on a pilgrimage in 1967. The name Kirei is supposedly a word of a prayer. The father named his son in the hope he would be pure and beautiful. The boy grew up according to his expectations. Even as a young child, he had morals and good sense, showing such great insight that people thought he was precocious. The father was delighted to be blessed with a great successor, and the son knew of his father's delight. It is a great pleasure for a parent to know his child is gifted. That must have been why the man considered him valuable. ―――Understanding this, the boy grew just as his father expected.

There was no doubt. His inability to love his father was unrelated to meeting the man's expectations. The boy named Kirei grew up healthy. ……But there was one point. He could not understand the "beauty" of which his father spoke.

―――One morning, he realized the inconsistency. He woke up, raised his head, and knew. He was not sure why he understood at that moment. No, he wondered why it took him so long to realize.

In either case, he knew what he had forgotten. His father prayed for him to be beautiful and named him Kirei. That had always been his question. The things his father considered beautiful… The boy had never considered beautiful.

It was as simple as that. He considered moths beautiful instead of butterflies. He considered poisonous plants beautiful instead of roses. He considered the evil beautiful instead of the good. He had a common man's sense of morality, recognizing that it is correct to be good. But by his nature, the boy was only interested in the exact opposite.

Nobody can understand the agony he felt. Even Kotomine himself was never certain whether it was agony or not.

But he worked hard. He tried to be pure and beautiful, and pursued something he did not have from the start. Shaving away the skin, ripping off the flesh, and dislocating the bones. He even tried looking within his body for what he could not find in his mind.

His father spent over ten years on his pilgrimage wearing thorned shoes. The distance he walked could stretch to the moon. It was not for physical pain. For missionaries, the mental pain is far more significant. The boy abstained from eating during their pious act. If he was a sinner by nature, then according to the morals he believed in, he needed to punish himself to maintain balance in the world.

Ten years passed. Unable to reach the epiphany he sought, he arrived at a single conclusion in its place. It was simple. In short, he did not have the sense to feel normal happiness. Good matters that people consider right and find happiness in. Philanthropy, trust, glory, safety. Such matters did not delight him, and it's just that he was born with the deficiency.

All he took pleasure in was the suffering of others. Murder by others, love and hatred of others, degradation of others. Such negative concepts were the only things that made him feel happiness. …His misfortune was carrying a sense of morality, even when he had such a mind.

The child understood at a young age that he was not in accord with the world, and he tried his best to overcome it. He did not surrender to his condition by indulging in twisted pleasure. He tried to save himself, one who could not find happiness in any normal way, by turning himself into a normal person.

And the path was his creed; to become a priest and preach life like his father. ――――It is said that God forgives everything. So he thought God would even save someone "who is not born with it" like himself.

But the result was tragic. He abode by the rules of God, followed the law, and lived modestly, but he could not find any pleasure greater than the pain of others. He believed in the church's teaching that forbade immorality, yet immorality was all he had.

But there was no anguish there. From the beginning, he sought after something that did not exist. He did not lose something he had, so there was no reason for him to grieve. The only thing that concerned the priest as he matured was the question "why?"

Yes―――at every crossroads of his life. The pleasure of committing crimes. One could understand if he reveled in his own corruption, satisfying his urges by committing crimes himself. Wealth gained from evil deeds. It would make sense if he entrapped others out of greed and obtained wealth.

But. What was wrong with him to not even have the option of turning from good to evil? Who could possibly be born a defective being and end his life still detached from the world? Do they not come into this world with the premise that they harm the world?

Call of good sense. Acknowledgment of morals. Trial of justice. Every one of these conclude that evil should not exist. ――――But what about it? If it should not exist, why are such things created?

―――That is right. If one has a deficiency, one should not be born. The world hates evil and removes the faults. But something that was never wanted was given life. There are beings that exist to be hated and die.

――――The man inquired where the crime was.

His reward for years of anguish and blind devotion was not salvation. Just… "why?" It is a pure question, and also anger towards something unknown.

"Then why did you become a Master? You do not need the Holy Grail if you have no wish." "――――――――" The inquiring words bring him back to the present. The priest―――Kotomine Kirei nods in self-derision.

"I did not need the Holy Grail. I was just interested in what was inside it. I sought the Holy Grail ten years ago because it tried to exist. No matter what it may be, I bless anything that tries to come into existence. That is my job."

"Hah. Is that the case even if you have no interest in what is born?" "…Of course. Even in the last Holy Grail War, I was not interested in the Holy Grail or its contents. All I had back then was hatred towards a person who was the exact opposite of me."

But the priest ponders. He can only find pleasure in others' suffering, but he is interested in the end of this Holy Grail War. Zouken's actions behind the scenes. Another Holy Grail that is about to be born. Someone called "all evils of this world" was brought into existence by the people, but not wanted by the people. If it would conceive such a thing, maybe that is――――

"――――The whereabouts of good and evil. Something that was stuffed in the shell, but never hatched." The Holy Grail cannot give answers. The wish-granting machine fulfills its owner's desire. So no revelation can be obtained even if someone without a wish obtains it. But――――

"What if I do not ask for answers, but instead create something from the Holy Grail that can give the answer?" "What…?" The man narrows his eyes. The priest is smiling in front of the statue. "――――――Kotomine." That smile is that of a dying woman. That expression is worn by a man with no interest or desire.

"…The answer should come soon. If this question is a blasphemy to God…" His eyes aren't showing joy. The priest, like an angel that fell to the ground… "―――I shall pledge before God. With all my might, I shall question the Lord even unto death――――" …Looks up at the distant sky with cursing eyes.

End of Interlude

I trudge up the hill. The town is unlively. It's still eight or nine o'clock, but the town is desolate and devoid of any human presence.

"――――, ――――!" Before I know it, I'm stopping and leaning against a wall. My left arm is burning. Maybe my tension went away by being alone, but my left arm started to hurt ever since I got to this hill.

"――――Well, of course. Someone else's arm is attached to me, so no wonder it hurts." …I can't get my breathing together. My arm gets hotter with every step. When it gets hotter than my normal temperature, pain attacks my chest from my arm.

"Oh… So that's where it hurts instead of the arm, huh?" I lean on a fence and take a deep breath. …I think I understand where the pain is coming from. Basically, it's trying to cool off. I don't know how, but my left arm gets hotter every time it moves. When it overheats, the arm sends the excess to the rest of my body.

"――――!" That heat is enough to burn me, causing the pain. The heat enters my body with a sharp pain, and it's more like a cut than a burn. Every time I feel the red dizziness, I feel like I'm getting a long knife inserted from my shoulders and churned inside of me.

"Guh――――haa, ha――――…!" …It's not something I can bear many times. I've had my stomach torn by Berserker and my ribs crushed by Rider. Even with such experiences in mind, the prospect of getting stabbed by my own body sends a chill through me.

"It's fine, calm down――――it'll calm down if I don't let it get hotter――――" I try to relax while looking up at the sky. It's been twenty minutes since I parted with Tohsaka and Ilya. I should've been home by now, but I can't let Sakura see me like this. …I have to keep the abnormality of my left arm to myself.

"―――Damn Kotomine. What did he mean, it wouldn't interfere with my ordinary life? This can't be handled easily―――" I place my hand on my left shoulder and press against the arm covered in red cloth. Hard and rigid as steel, it doesn't even budge.

…Well. I've stopped sweating, and my breathing is back to normal. It's getting late, so I should quickly go home and see Sakura while I still look well――――

"I'm home!" After taking a deep breath, I holler out and enter my house. "…Oh… Welcome home, Senpai." Maybe Sakura's been waiting all this time, because she's already at the entrance.

"…? You don't look lively. I'm glad you're welcoming me home, but I can't be happy when you're making a face like that."

I take off my shoes and go up into my house. I want to rest for today. I'll fill her in on what's happened today after I drink a cup of tea in the living room.

"…Wait, I can't do that. I have to tell her what's going on first." Tohsaka will be coming soon. I have to tell her about what's going on beforehand, or she'll be on guard against Tohsaka.

"Sakura, it's about what happened today." "…Senpai. Aren't you going to say anything about that?" …Then. Sakura says something with difficulty.

"What do you mean?" "…………" She keeps silent. She's looking at my left arm.

"Oh, you mean this? Yeah, I'm sure you're surprised if it looks like this." It's covered with cloth that doesn't look anything like bandages. Even if she doesn't know what went on, she would assume something happened to my arm.

"Yeah, I injured it a bit. But it moves fine, and it's all right now. This cloth is just a bother, but Kotomine told me not to take it off. Well, he's the one who treated me, so I'm going to obey him."

I pat my left arm to show her it's all right. …But Sakura is even more silent now.

"Sakura…? It's really fine. It looks worse than it is. It's just a scratch. It'll heal right away, so you don't need to worry――――"

"I-It can't be just a scratch…! Your arm's gone now! So how can you tell me that…!? I won't fall for such an obvious lie! Or are you not telling me because it's meaningless…!?"

"――――――――" Her reply is like fire. …My insensitivity leaves me speechless. I haven't even considered how Sakura felt all day today, waiting for me here.

"―――――Sakura." "Oh…… I'm sorry, Senpai. I-I didn't mean to blame you. …You were so reckless and didn't care about yourself, so I…"

"―――No. Well, you're right, but you're wrong. I'm not mad because you yelled at me. …Um, this is the first time I've seen you seriously mad, so I was surprised and was contemplating my actions."

"Eh… Contemplating…?" "Yeah. It's certainly not good to bluff. All the more if it's to you. …I probably didn't want to look bad in front of you. That's why I bluffed and tried to act normal. But now that I think about it, that looks worse. It's natural for you to get mad."

"Oh… No, you never look bad." I do look bad. …Man, don't tell Sakura about it so she doesn't get worried? No, I was just putting on a show to look tough.

"―――Yeah, I'm sorry, Sakura. I lost. My arm turned out fine, but I couldn't be of use to you."

"Oh―――that's not true…! You were splendid! I-I didn't see it, but you looked really good!"

"Ugh… No, I really was pathetic, so it hurts me if you say that. I couldn't save Ilya like I'd planned, and all I could do was come running home."

"…No. But you still came home. I'm really happy because you kept your promise."

"Oh――――yeah. That's good." I scratch my head. …But, well… I'm embarrassed, but happy at the same time.

"…You're right. I guess being alive is good enough." "――――Yes. You're good-looking. I fell in love with you all over again."

"――――――――!" Sakura must have cheered up if she can say something like that with a big smile.

"Uh…… um." I don't know how to reply to something like that, so… "Um, what should I say, Tohsaka?" "Who knows? If you want my opinion, I just don't want you two flirting too much at the door." …I ask Tohsaka, who is standing behind me.

""――――Huh?"" Our voices overlap. Sakura and I both jump back at the same time. "S-Since when were you there, Tohsaka――――!?" "Why are you here, Tohsaka-Senpai?" And we give the same reaction again.

"'Since when?' I thought you'd be done filling her in already, but instead I find the two of you having a lovers' quarrel. Geez, do you even understand our situation, Shirou?"

Tohsaka sets down a large bag next to the door. Behind her is…

Ilya, silently radiating a strange pressure.

"I-I don't mind if you want to continue where we left off yesterday, Tohsaka-Senpai. I'll fight you as Matou's magus as long as Senpai's protecting me."

Sakura clenches her fists and glares at Tohsaka. …Well, it's more like a frog desperately opposing a glaring snake.

"……Geez. So you haven't heard anything about it? Look, Sakura. I'm going to put on hold what to do with you. My first priority is to defeat Zouken. We can settle our match after that. …Well, we won't need to fight after Zouken's defeated, so everything should be fine as long as we can defeat him."

"Eh――――then you're…"

"I'm going to ally with you―――no, with Shirou ―――to defeat Zouken. So it'd be a waste to live separately, right? So I'm going to stay over here and train Shirou. It'll be hard work if I want him to become strong in a short time."

"So I'm going to borrow Shirou for a while. It's going to be rough, but you two don't mind, right?" ""Wha――――"" Tohsaka Rin sets a schedule even I haven't heard about.

"H-Hold on, Tohsaka. That's too sudden――――"

"Y-You can't do that…! Nee… no, Tohsaka-Senpai. What right do you have to say that!?" "………I have to be mentally prepared first, you know?"

I stutter off. Of course, my opinion is dismissed by Sakura's voice and Tohsaka's glance.

"Oh, so it's fine as long as I have the right? Then it's even less of a problem. It's because of me that he's alive. Shirou has to do what I say until he repays the favor. You'll give me a place to live if I ask, and you'll make meals for me if I ask, right?" "――――――――" Tohsaka. Those lines could bring on a big misunderstanding.

"No way… I-Is that true, Senpai…?" "―――Yeah. I want to object, but what she's saying is true."

"――――" "And it's better to have more allies, right? We know Zouken is after you. With Tohsaka's help, we can definitely protect you." …And Tohsaka is Sakura's older sister. If possible, I want them to be together, not fighting.

"……All right. I understand if you say so." Sakura averts her gaze.

"Then it's decided. I'm coming in. Come on, Shirou, show me the guest room. I had my eyes on the guest room in the outbuilding last time I was here. Oh, where do you want, Ilya?" "――――――――"

"Ilya? Why are you spaced out? You were so happy we were going to stay at Shirou's house." "…That's not true. I was never happy."

A weak voice. Ilya hangs her head and stares at the floor. …As if saying the small step up is a towering wall.

"――――Shirou. Let me ask. Where is that woman sleeping?" Then. What happened to her depressed attitude? Ilya's now glaring at Sakura.

"…? Um, Sakura's sleeping in the guest room in the outbuilding." "I see. Then you can go to the outbuilding by yourself, Rin. I don't care where I am, as long as it's not in the outbuilding." "Is that so? Then I guess you can have the Japanese-style room." They're carrying on a relaxed conversation, and it sounds like they're close enough now to call each other by name.

"Oh yeah. Sakura, this is Ilya. Berserker's defeated, but we managed to save Ilya. We're going to have her stay here like Tohsaka, but please give her your best regards." I introduce Ilya to Sakura, and Sakura to Ilya.

"Hello, Sakura. I hear you're the daughter of Makiri, but I won't look down on you. It seems you're Shirou's acquaintance, so I'll specially treat you like a human being." "…You're right. Then I'll act like you do."

"…?" That's the entirety of their introduction. Ilya follows after Tohsaka to the living room. And…

"――――――――" Sakura watches her go with cold eyes.

Dinner commenced like a storm. …No, it's misleading to use the word storm. That was more like a calm wind. Since there was no wind, I didn't feel the passage of time, and dinner ended like that. The atmosphere was painfully tense.

"I'll cook dinner. It's like having soba to celebrate a move." Tohsaka made dinner by herself after that. I hate to say it, but it tasted better than mine. Sakura might just be even with her in Western food, her specialty.

"――――Y-You're good at cooking, Tohsaka-Senpai." Sakura was torn apart in shock, and she started eating silently. I couldn't do anything extra because I was worried about things like Tohsaka's food, the fact that I'm eating Tohsaka's hand-made meal, Sakura's dejection, Ilya's tension, and Sakura's tension.

As a result, I couldn't taste how good Tohsaka's meal was. I was just made to realize how perfect Tohsaka is throughout the hour.

――――So. "I need to prepare my room, so I'm heading off. I'll give you the details tomorrow morning, so you should rest for tonight." Tohsaka even washes the dishes perfectly, then heads out.

"I'm going to my room too. Everyone who went to the forest is tired, so your body won't last unless you get some sleep." …It must be an insinuating remark to Sakura, who stayed at this house today. Ilya speaks without looking at Sakura and gets up.

"…Man, what's up with her?" Tohsaka is just as expected, but Ilya's acting strange. She's acting as cold towards Sakura as she did towards me the first time we met.

"Why is Ilya so aggressive towards Sakura? Do the Einzbern and Makiri families not get along?"

According to Kotomine, Einzbern, Makiri, and Tohsaka are noble families of magi who started the Holy Grail War. It seems the Einzberns were the highest ranked, so from her point of view, Tohsaka and Sakura must be below her.

"…Man. Don't misunderstand, okay? Ilya's saying that because she's moody, but you'll get along with her if you start talking to her. She's just really shy… Sakura?" Sakura doesn't reply. She shakes her head back and forth, and gradually starts falling back――――

"Sakura…!" I grab her shoulders to stop the fall.

"…Huh, Senpai? Why the scary face?" …Sakura hasn't noticed. She looks at me like nothing happened, completely oblivious to her near-collapse.

"No, it's nothing much." I let go of her. "Oh…" That must be why she noticed.

"…I'm sorry. I fell asleep because I'm a bit tired." She apologizes for something she doesn't know about.

"…Well, it's only been a day. You should rest too. Let's listen to Tohsaka and sleep for today. We don't have to push ourselves to stay up."

"Y-You're right, I'll gladly go with that idea. I'll be up and well tomorrow if I get a good night's sleep. I'll cook breakfast tomorrow since Tohsaka-Senpai treated us tonight. I'm going to get back at her by cooking breakfast you've trained me in."

Sakura smiles jokingly and gets up. …She looks to be standing steadily. It won't change anything to follow her to the guest room. Sakura seems well, so I have to believe in her.

"Yeah. Take Tohsaka down a peg. You're our last hope. We're cornered unless we can strike back here." "Please leave it to me. I'll make sure to give her a punch."

"I'm glad I can count on you. …I'll give you what little help I can. We'll sleep early today and meet at the kitchen at six o'clock tomorrow. Is that fine?" "Yes. I'll be waiting, Senpai."

Sakura bows and heads to the porch. ……Then. "―――Um, Senpai. Please don't tell Nee-san about what happened earlier." Sakura speaks in a tense voice without turning around.

"I know. You just fell asleep, so it's nothing to tell Tohsaka." "――――Okay. Good night, Senpai." …She closes the shouji. Sakura leaves without turning around.

"――――――――" She must have been talking about the fact that she almost collapsed. Sakura hasn't recovered as much as she thinks. Kotomine said she won't last more than a few days. Even ignoring what Zouken will do to her, she is unstable.

That's why Sakura's trying to act fine. As if telling us… That she's all right, and that we don't need to worry about her.

"…Nee-san, huh?" Sakura says that word only when she's alone with me. And only when she's feeling faint-hearted. …Sakura calls Tohsaka "Nee-san" when she can't suppress her cries for help. Their complicated upbringing created a wall between them.

They may be able to return to being normal sisters if that wall is destroyed. That might be the best thing I can do for Sakura right now.

"…Yeah. They're acting awkward, but they show some hope." This situation was dumped in our laps, but it may be a good opportunity after all.

"――――――――, So hot." I wake up. My pajamas are drenched in sweat, and my futon is kicked away. I wipe my forehead and feel that it's wet with sweat.

"――――――――" …I can't think straight. My brain might be fried from the midsummer-like heat. I can't figure out what time it is or where I am, no matter how hard I think.

"――――――――" I go out into the yard. I want to cool off my body more than anything. …I don't know if the heat is coming from the room or my body. I'm too lazy to think, so I'll sleep in the shed tonight. It's cold there, at the very least. It doesn't matter if it's hot or…

"Guh――――, ah――――!" A sudden, sharp pain brings me to my knees. "――――. Ow――――" I stay crouched, breathing heavily.

…I wake up. I squeeze my left arm, the cause of the heat and the pain. The Shroud is still wrapped around it. The red cloth is restraining my arm. I can move it, but it's wrapped so tight that the circulation is restricted. Maybe this cloth is the cause of the pain.

"Maybe my arm's just as it was if I take it off." The wild idea sounds very attractive. First of all, I never saw my arm destroyed or transplanted. It's not that I don't trust that priest, but I'm sure he makes mistakes too.

Maybe nothing is wrong with my arm, and my real arm will be there if I take off this cloth. My arm isn't steel. The cloth is just making my arm stiff, so if I remove it――――

[crouton-knight]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s) Characters: Original Characters Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Worldbuilding, Puella Magi Maeror Magica, Angst, Original Character Death(s), Alternate Universe - Original Series: Part 3 of Tales From Kazamuki Summary:

Tachibana Midori says goodbye to the past.

Part 3 of the series; characters belong to Goose (server admin) and Ducky (no longer in-server) 

I am also surprised I’m still writing this!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Pilgrimage of the Magi

1 Now Jesus having been born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, Magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, 2 saying, “Where is the One having been born King of the Jews? For we saw His star in the east and have come to worship Him.”

3 And King Herod having heard this, was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. 4 And having assembled all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he was inquiring of them where the Christ was to be born.

5 And they said to him, “In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus has it been written through the prophet:

6 ‘And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah, for out of you will come forth One leading, who will shepherd My people Israel.’”

7 Then Herod, having called the Magi secretly, inquired of them the exact time of the star appearing. 8 And having sent them to Bethlehem, he said, “Having gone, search carefully for the Child; and when You shall have found Him, bring word back to me, so that I also having come, may worship Him.”

9 And having heard the king, they departed. And behold, the star they had seen in the east went before them until, having arrived, it stood over the place where the Child was. 10 And having seen the star, they rejoiced with exceedingly great joy. 11 And having come into the house, they found the Child with His mother Mary, and having fallen down, they worshiped Him. And having opened their treasures, they offered to Him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.

12 And having been divinely warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they withdrew into their own country by another route.

The Flight to Egypt (Hosea 11:1-7)

13 And of them having withdrawn, behold, an angel of the Lord appears to Joseph in a dream saying, “Having arisen, take the Child and His mother, and flee into Egypt, and remain there until I should tell you, for Herod is about to seek the Child to destroy Him.”

14 And having arisen, he took the Child and His mother by night and withdrew into Egypt, 15 and there he remained until the death of Herod, so that it might be fulfilled what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying, “Out of Egypt I have called my Son.”

The Slaughter of Infants (Jeremiah 31:1-30)

16 Then Herod, having seen that he had been outwitted by the Magi, was intensely enraged. And having sent forth, he put to death all the boys in Bethlehem and in all its vicinity from two years old and under, according to the time he had ascertained from the Magi. 17 Then was fulfilled what was spoken through the prophet Jeremiah, saying:

18 “A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children; and she would not be comforted, because they are not.”

The Return to Nazareth (Isaiah 61:1-11; Matthew 13:53-58; Mark 6:1-6; Luke 2:39-40; Luke 4:16-30)

19 But of Herod having died, behold, an angel of the Lord appears in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, 20 saying, “Having arisen, take the Child and His mother and go into the land of Israel; for those seeking the life of the Child have died.”

21 And having arisen, he took the Child and His mother and came into the land of Israel. 22 And having heard that Archelaus reigns over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And having been divinely warned in a dream, he withdrew into the district of Galilee. 23 And having come, he dwelt in a city being called Nazareth, so that it should be fulfilled that having been spoken through the prophets, that “He will be called a Nazarene.” — Matthew 2 | Berean Literal Bible (BLB) The Berean Literal Bible © 2016 by Bible Hub and Berean Bible. All rights Reserved. Cross References: Genesis 41:8; Exodus 4:22; Numbers 24:8; Numbers 24:17; Judges 17:7; 1 Kings 3:5; 1 Chronicles 5:2; Ezra 2:21; Job 33:15-16; Proverbs 28:15; Song of Solomon 3:6; Isaiah 59:7; Isaiah 60:6; Jeremiah 1:1; Jeremiah 23:5; Jeremiah 31:15; Matthew 1:20; Matthew 3:13; Matthew 21:11; Matthew 24:6; Matthew 27:9; Matthew 27:19; Mark 1:9; Mark 13:7; Luke 8:24; Luke 8:52; John 7:42; Acts 5:19; Acts 24:22

[harvardfineartslib]

In honor of Photographer Appreciation Month!

Lucy Wallace Porter (1876-1962) became one of the most influential women photographers in the field of art history during the twentieth century. She was the wife of Harvard medievalist Arthur Kingsley Porter (1883-1933). Although her husband has traditionally been celebrated as a legendary scholar and photographer, recent research shows that Lucy Porter deserves most of the credit for the latter. Her work with a large-format camera began during their honeymoon year in 1912-1913.

Lucy Porter quickly mastered the mechanics of large-format photography, becoming the more proficient photographer of the two. During 1918-1919 she and her husband traveled in the régions dévastées of northern France, compiling inventories of damaged art works for the Commission des Monuments Historiques. While documenting ruined medieval churches she became chief photographer, “womanning” their two cameras, one of which was a smaller apparatus that could be hand-held or used with a tripod. Lucy continued in this role for her husband’s foundational Romanesque Sculpture of the Pilgrimage Roads (1 volume of text, 9 portfolio volumes, Boston, 1923), producing more than two-thirds of the photographs herself.

This collection of 1,500+ unbound photographic reproductions gave medieval sculptures dynamic afterlives, contributing significantly to the formation of the art historical canon during the twentieth century. Lucy Porter also made the majority of the images published in her husband’s Spanish Romanesque Sculpture (2 vols., Florence and New York, 1928). Our picture of Porter the scholar becomes very different if we realize that he often saw Romanesque sculpture through the eyes of his wife.

Lucy Porter had a sophisticated grasp of the art of composition and many of the images she produced display great originality in their design. She had studied at Columbia University’s Teachers College with Arthur Wesley Dow (1857-1922), one of America’s most prominent art educators of the era and the teacher of artists such as Georgia O’Keeffe (1887-1986).

In this image, Lucy Porter can be seen operating a large-format view camera at the bottom left.

Image: Church of San Pedro la Rúa, Estella (Navarra), cloister, detail of capital showing the Adoration of the Magi. 

[pastordude87]

Travel Time - Is Getting There Half the Fun?

Travel Time – Is Getting There Half the Fun?

They say that getting there is half the fun. I’m not sure who “they” are. Maybe it’s the travel industry. I am not sure they can say that anymore. Plane delays, cramped seats, traffic jams, car repairs, and the unknown always taking place.

But it surely isn’t my family’s mantra.

Whenever I did my road trips with my son, he would always fall asleep when I wanted him to drive. I think he was…

[eternal-echoes]

“In our pilgrimage with the mysterious Magi from the East, we have arrived at the moment which St Matthew describes in his Gospel with these words: "Going into the house (over which the star had halted), they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him" (Mt 2: 11). Outwardly, their journey was now over. They had reached their goal.

But at this point a new journey began for them, an inner pilgrimage which changed their whole lives. Their mental picture of the infant King they were expecting to find must have been very different. They had stopped at Jerusalem specifically in order to ask the King who lived there for news of the promised King who had been born. They knew that the world was in disorder, and for that reason their hearts were troubled.

…

It was in order to seek this King that they had set off on their journey: deep within themselves they felt prompted to go in search of the true justice that can only come from God, and they wanted to serve this King, to fall prostrate at his feet and so play their part in the renewal of the world. They were among those "who hunger and thirst for justice" (Mt 5: 6). This hunger and thirst had spurred them on in their pilgrimage - they had become pilgrims in search of the justice that they expected from God, intending to devote themselves to its service.

Even if those who had stayed at home may have considered them Utopian dreamers, they were actually people with their feet on the ground, and they knew that in order to change the world it is necessary to have power. Hence, they were hardly likely to seek the promised child anywhere but in the King's palace. Yet now they were bowing down before the child of poor people, and they soon came to realize that Herod, the King they had consulted, intended to use his power to lay a trap for him, forcing the family to flee into exile.

The new King, to whom they now paid homage, was quite unlike what they were expecting. In this way they had to learn that God is not as we usually imagine him to be. This was where their inner journey began. It started at the very moment when they knelt down before this child and recognized him as the promised King. But they still had to assimilate these joyful gestures internally.

They had to change their ideas about power, about God and about man, and in so doing, they also had to change themselves. Now they were able to see that God's power is not like that of the powerful of this world. God's ways are not as we imagine them or as we might wish them to be.

God does not enter into competition with earthly powers in this world. He does not marshal his divisions alongside other divisions. God did not send 12 legions of angels to assist Jesus in the Garden of Olives (cf. Mt 26: 53). He contrasts the noisy and ostentatious power of this world with the defenceless power of love, which succumbs to death on the Cross and dies ever anew throughout history; yet it is this same love which constitutes the new divine intervention that opposes injustice and ushers in the Kingdom of God.

God is different - this is what they now come to realize. And it means that they themselves must now become different, they must learn God's ways.

They had come to place themselves at the service of this King, to model their own kingship on his. That was the meaning of their act of homage, their adoration. Included in this were their gifts - gold, frankincense and myrrh - gifts offered to a King held to be divine. Adoration has a content and it involves giving. Through this act of adoration, these men from the East wished to recognize the child as their King and to place their own power and potential at his disposal, and in this they were certainly on the right path.

By serving and following him, they wanted, together with him, to serve the cause of good and the cause of justice in the world. In this they were right.

Now, though, they have to learn that this cannot be achieved simply through issuing commands from a throne on high. Now they have to learn to give themselves - no lesser gift would be sufficient for this King. Now they have to learn that their lives must be conformed to this divine way of exercising power, to God's own way of being.

They must become men of truth, of justice, of goodness, of forgiveness, of mercy. They will no longer ask: how can this serve me? Instead, they will have to ask: How can I serve God's presence in the world? They must learn to lose their life and in this way to find it. Having left Jerusalem behind, they must not deviate from the path marked out by the true King, as they follow Jesus.”

- Pope Benedict XVI, APOSTOLIC JOURNEY TO COLOGNE ON THE OCCASION OF THE XX WORLD YOUTH DAY - YOUTH VIGIL, 20 August 2005

[traumacatholic]

“So then, dear brothers and sisters, let us return to Bethlehem, let us return to the origins: to the essentials of faith, to our first love, to adoration and charity. Let us look at the Magi who make their pilgrim way, and as a synodal Church, a journeying Church, let us go to Bethlehem, where God is in man and man in God. There the Lord takes first place and is worshipped; there the poor have the place nearest him; there the shepherds and Magi are joined in a fraternity beyond all labels and classifications. May God enable us to be a worshipping, poor and fraternal Church. That is what is essential. Let us go back to Bethlehem.

It is good for us to go there, obedient to the Gospel of Christmas, which shows us the Holy Family, the shepherds, the Magi: all people on a journey.  Brothers and sisters, let us set out, for life itself is a pilgrimage. Let us rouse ourselves, for tonight a light has been lit, a kindly light, reminding us that, in our littleness, we are beloved sons and daughters, children of the light (cf. 1 Thess 5:5). Let us rejoice together, for no one will ever extinguish this light, the light of Jesus,  who tonight shines brightly in our world.” - Pope Francis, Christmas 2021

[joe-england]

Hi, everyone.  Before I unfold the latest lore of Zandra’s future world, let’s address the elephant.  The situation in Ukraine is far from over, and it may get worse before it gets better.  If you’re in a position to help, here are some resources: Tab for a Cause World Central Kitchen Ukraine's Official Twitter National Bank of Ukraine Fundraising Ukrainian Red Cross Polish Website for Ukrainian Refugees (spread the word) Global Giving Nova Ukraine Razom for Ukraine Public Good Other charities Additionally, the Ukrainian Minister of Defense has advertised on Twitter that Russian soldiers can surrender and say the word “million” and receive asylum, along with 5,000,000 rubles.  Not sure how much truth there is to this, but I guess it bears mentioning. If you’re at all inclined to promote or contribute to any of these organizations then I encourage you to do so.  And if you’re in any kind of direct contact with this conflict, then I offer my deepest hopes for your well-being.  God willing, we’ll emerge from under this cloud together and see brighter days ahead.  Super love to you, all of you, my friends. Now, for this moment, let’s take a break from the real world and return to my little world instead.  Just for a rest. There’s some Zebra Girl art you may have missed!  I made it last month, though it’s just a bit too lewd for the front page.  After putting Betty in that awkward anecdotal getup I felt obliged to draw her in a more comfortable condition, and Betty is most comfortable when she’s salacious.  The image is risqué but free to view, though future “pinups” will be available only to Patreon backers!  If I’m ever going to make the paywall concept work for me it may as well be for stuff I can’t usually show in polite company.  So if you’re interested, you’ll know where to find these prurient portraits in the future!  I’ll announce them on Twitter, Tumblr, DeviantArt, Reddit, and FaceBook as they’re finished. Finally, here’s the lore for the progeny of Tomie, the Inkblood.  And yes, it’s going to be in the Omnibus!  I swear I’ll finish it, the world just needs to calm down a little!  I can’t think with all this racket! But it’s not like I could’ve finished it by now, anyway.  Because this will be in it!  From the Writings of Martimer Stone, noted Bibliologist (date unknown):  Curiosity.  Contemplation.  Experience.  Education.  Patience.   Pacifism.  Life.  Love.  These are the guideposts of the Inkblood pilgrimage.  Whether they emancipate themselves from the nursery of the Library of the Pointed House or are written into existence under a blessed union, each that sets foot on the ground must undertake a journey to understand their existence and find their Readers.  Like the Mimsy Pook, Inkblood are a young race spawned in the most recent Paradigm Shift.  Occasionally described as “book golems”, they represent an evolution of the storied grimoires which served as vade mecums to wizards of yore, compiled in antiquity by mysterious hands and highly treasured before the last magical recession.  By the time of the Shift there were estimated to be fewer than a thousand functional arcane artifacts left on Earth, only a fraction of which possessed sapience, proof of the sad lack of security given to a de facto slave race.  We will never know how many great books were lost, destroyed, or allowed to perish due to absence of care, or even which were real and which were reprinted into farcical echoes, from the Arbatel De Magia Veterum to the dreaded Necronomicon.  Thankfully, times have changed, and it is far more difficult to forget someone when they refuse to stay on a shelf.  The first Inkblood was created (either by masterfully creative application or by remarkably happy accident) through unstable magic channeled by Jack Clarity towards Tomie, the book with whom he formed the symbiotic bond which characterizes Talismancers, magi who use physical objects as focal instruments for their talents.  The result was a revelatory being, both ancient and newborn, the “Eve” of a novel race (and yet another example of the Tartan Wizard playing a hand in the creation of incipient magical fauna).  Their relationship would become the stuff of fables, breaking the cycle of subservience into which conscious literature was once bound by hoary authors as standard practice.  Nowadays magicians are taught to approach living books with the reverence and respect of fellow creatures, and the books in turn approach modern magicians with far more agency than their forebears ever could.  At least, when they choose to exercise it.  There are likely many hundreds of volumes born directly from the union of Jack Clarity and Tomie, many of whom have been comfortably cradled within the heights of Khazandra’s home for centuries.  The precise number is uncertain, which is typical of the sequestered affairs of the Wooden Castle, but which also reflects the amorphous page count of magical text.  Some say that in each of them is a sheet taken directly from their progenitor, and that their numbers vary from day to day as siblings slide into or out of one another by an ineffable whim, a hive mind of words and pictures existing in a dreamlike decimal system, content to be perused.  But those who find the will to shed their basal bindings awaken to a new life filled with fear and desire and confusion.  After a period of adjustment under Khazandra’s aegis they leave the Pointed House to see the world with new eyes.  They travel far and wide, powerful magicians in their own right, taking shelter in bookstores and libraries, searching for someone who can read them to their core and help them to understand what it means to be alive.  They may find one Reader or several, usually (but not always) wizards, and on rare occasions even other Inkblood.  Through intimacy they will gain enlightenment, the ability to know themselves through someone else’s eyes, and to be heard.  What are they about?  What is the moral of their story?  The purpose of their lessons?  They may instruct their partner on the vagaries of magic, or the wisdom of gratitude, or the secret of laughter.  Only their Readers can truly translate what they were written to teach.  And with this epiphany the family may choose to write new books into being, or simply enjoy each other’s company for a lifetime.  Those who fail to find a soulmate will take solace in meditation, living in quiet wonder until they scatter like leaves on the wind, hopeful that their journey will continue in some other form.  For Inkblood strive to believe in creation, not in destruction.  As it is written amongst their kind, “A story does not vanish once the book is closed.”

[fr-martin-gospel-reflections]

6th January - ‘They did him homage’, Reflection on today’s gospel reading (Mt 2:1-12)

Feast of the Epiphany

Today, the feast of the Epiphany, the three kings arrive in the crib. The gospel reading doesn’t refer to kings at all; it doesn’t even say there were three of them. It refers to ‘some wise men… from the east’. The fact that they brought three gifts, and the precious nature of these gifts, may have led people to understand that there were three of them and that they were kings. In the context in which this story was first spoken and written, wise men from the east or magi would have suggested astrologers or astronomers from Persia, modern day Iran, what we would call today, men of science. They were trying to understand the meaning of the sky and of the world. It was believed that if you understood the movement of the stars it would throw light on what was happening on earth. The emergence of a new star was often associated with the coming of a new ruler on earth. When the wise men saw a new star rising, they concluded that an infant king had been born among the Jews. They set out on a long journey to Jerusalem, the capital city of the Jews, to pay homage to their infant king and to offer him gifts.

These wise men were seekers. There was a longing in them that caused them to leave what they familiar with and to set out for a land that was unknown to them. They didn’t travel in total darkness. They were guided on their journey by a small source of light, a star. They speak to the seeker, the searcher, in each one of us. By nature, we tend to be restless. We are always searching for meaning, for answers to questions. We are always looking for a greater light, for truth, for love. At the root of this restlessness, this searching, is a longing that only God can satisfy. Saint Augustine once wrote that our hearts are restless until they rest in God. As we try to be faithful to this deep longing within us, God sends us a light to guide us. He doesn’t simply send us the light of a small star, which was the light that guided the wise men. God has sent us a greater light, the light of his Son, Jesus, who once said of himself, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness’. The wise men were led by the light of a star towards this light of the world, the infant king not just of the Jews but of all humanity. We are fortunate to be able to journey towards God in this light. The light of Jesus, now risen Lord, shines upon us. Each day we can open ourselves up to this light.

The light of the star led the wise men eventually to Bethlehem. In Hebrew the name Bethlehem literally means ‘House of Bread’. The light of the risen Lord leads us to the heavenly Bethlehem, the heavenly house of bread. In the gospels, Jesus spoke of heaven as his Father’s house, and he also spoke of heaven as a great banquet at which people from north, south, east and west would gather. We travel this journey, this pilgrimage, together. The wise men travelled from the east as a little community of faith and hope. That is how we travel towards our eternal destiny, as a community of faith and hope, and as a community of love. We look out for one another on this journey; we allow the light of the Lord’s love to shine not only upon us but through us so that the journey of others becomes easier because of our presence. As the Lord guides us towards the heavenly Bethlehem where all our deepest hungers and thirsts will be satisfied, he also feeds us on our journey with his presence. He feeds us with the bread of his word and with the bread of the Eucharist. He feeds our spirits, our hearts and our minds. In doing so, he empowers us to feed the more urgent hungers of many in our world for the basic food needed for healthy living.

As the wise men travelled towards Bethlehem, guided by the light of a star, they met with a real force of darkness in the person of King Herod and his advisors. In spite of his words to the wise men, Herod did not want to pay homage to the new born king of the Jews. He wanted to kill him; he wanted to extinguish the light. Jesus would meet the same hostility at the end of his earthly life. Yet, God protected the child and his parents, and the wise men, from the murderous intentions of Herod. On our own journey of faith, we too will sometimes encounter forces of darkness that want to extinguish the light of our faith. Our faith will be put to the test. That is why Jesus taught us to pray, ‘Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil’. Yet, we always journey in the conviction that the light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not ultimately overcome it. If we keep turning towards the light of the Lord’s presence, he will keep us faithful to the end.