#so seeing all of them being actual people other than saints or (in judas case) traitor devils is a relief

[idontknowanametouse]

As a non-christian, it's really nice to watch "the chosen" with another point of view then most's, and still be able to see the messages behind the show.

I'm a pagan, and I believe Jesus was a "normal" guy with a strong spiritual connection to higher plans, because he was a very good person with a very "old" soul. Seeing him be portrayed as human (not only him, his followers too) makes me very happy

[utcreative-blog]

The Unity of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty, Or Is Judas the Original Social Justice Warrior?

About a month ago over at the Lepanto Institute Facebook page, a meme was posted. You can see it here. It pictures an almost offensively stereotypically Jewish Judas kissing a rather European looking Jesus Christ Artist . At the top in ominous, red letters it says, Judas Iscariot; at the bottom (oddly in white), Patron Saint of Social Justice. Scot Eric Alt and Mary Pezzulo adequately explained and criticized this: “Lepanto Institute Meme Attempts to Link Social Justice to Judas Iscariot,” “The Lepanto Institute and the Sin of Judas,” and “Lepanto Institute Under Malicious Attack by Evil “Social Justice Warriors”!”

I thought things were done, then I cam across this piece by Steven Skojec over at 1Peter5 (an odd, to me, Catholic site). Skojec describes Pope Francis as wearing some kind of mask (as if, perhaps, he’s really just a front for a demon and the Devil/Antichrist really now is the Pope in Rome as so many of my fundamentalist, dispensationalist Protestant friends used to tell me). Skojec’s article is strange enough. But then I read the comments. Two people, in conjunction with one another, regarded Pope Francis, SJW, as Judas’ pope. One commenter went so far as to suggest there were “excellent parallels” between Pope Francis and Judas, both, the commenter notes, Social Justice Warriors.

Now, I don’t want to beat a dead horse. But let’s do be reminded of the context for this claim. While the anointing of Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume is described in three gospels, it is only in John’s that we are told it was Judas complaining. And also in John are we reminded that Judas did not actually care about the poor, but used shared purse as his personal purse, purloining coins whene’er he could. So, the context makes it clear, Judas’ goals are not social justice, but personal gain. But, what if Judas did really want to help the poor? I mean, let’s remember that two other gospels merely tell us that some of the disciples complained about the woman’s actions suggesting that they could have sold the perfume and aided the poor. On the face of it, we could easily read them as passages about “social justice.”

This is where a video from back in November featuring Dr. Conor Cunningham, of my alma mater the University of Nottingham, comes into play. The video is one in the Theology and Religious Studies’ Why Study series. The question at hand is, Why Study the Transcendentals.  Throughout the video Cunningham discusses the importance of the transcendentals, primarily Beauty, Truth, and Goodness. These are considered by Thomas Aquinas as being convertible with Being. What this means is this: Everything that is, by virtue of existing, must at least insofar as it exists is also good, true, and beautiful. Central in all this is the unity of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. They are not meant, so Cunningham reminds us, to be divided.

Throughout the video, Cunningham gives examples of what too much emphasis on one of the transcendentals, to the exclusion of the others, can look like. Goodness brought to fore can lapse into moralism; Beauty into vanity or aestheticism; Truth into propositions (or theological masturbation as Cunningham calls it). Then Cunningham does something apropos of all these Judas Iscariot, SJW memes and ideas. He uses Judas (I think, in the moment he may have forgotten John’s little explanatory note about Judas the thief) as an example of someone who focuses on Goodness to the exclusion of Beauty. Cunningham notes that there are those who question why we build cathedrals when there are poor people to feed. He reminds us that we build cathedrals (which are beautiful) because of the poor. Beauty, properly received, can lead us to Truth and Goodness. So, even if Judas had truly wanted to feed the poor, his problem would not have been a dedication to the Good, but a forgetfulness of the Beautiful (and in Judas’ case the True as well).

So where does this leave us? Is Judas the “patron saint” of social justice warriors? On the one hand, of course not. That’s ridiculous on a whole host of levels. But Christ’s words (whether to Judas or to all the disciples) still stand. We cannot become so focused on social justice that we forget the Truth or the Beautiful. No more than we ought to become so focused on the Truth so as to lose focus on the Good and the Beautiful; or on the Beautiful so as to lose focus on the Good and the Truth. The three must stand united (just as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit can never be truly divided). So we must feed the poor; we must be social justice warriors. But perhaps, to further a meme suggesting other role-playing classes, we ought also to be or to raise up social justice bards (or poets/artists) and social justice philosophers and theologians. And I don’t simply mean poets and artists who write, paint, and sculpt about explicit social justice issues; or philosophers and theologians who are exclusively ethicists. Rather I mean we must foster poets and artists and philosophers and theologians (and bankers and farmers and housewives and househusbands and students) whose lives are so organized around Truth, Beauty, and Goodness that while they may not always have the ferver of some SJWs they will nevertheless be committed to bringing about social reform just as (or perhaps slightly less than) they are committed to writing beautiful (and good and true) poetry or devising true (and good and beautiful) books about God and the nature of reality. We must be whole. We must also be the body, allowing some to be legs, others eyes, still others mouths and ears. And we must tend to each part of the body to ensure that we move with one fluid motion.

[theseaeaglelives]

Round 23

THE SEA EAGLE

MAKING RUGBY LEAGUE GREAT AGAIN!!!

Round 22 Recap

Manly Sea Eagles      32                      Defeated    Wests Tigers              12

  After going down to the Warriors last week in Auckland Manly returned to the Fortress and back on firm ground easily accounted for the Tigers in this fixture.   Manly dominated the early skirmishes but despite plenty of chances failed to convert. Eventually Manly finally opened the scoring after 20 minutes when late replacement (for Curtis Sironen), Jack Gosiewski crossed following a deft Cherry Baby grubber. Gosiewski continues the trend of unheralded/rookie Manly players that have thrived in season 2019 under the tutelage of master coach Hasler.

  Against the run of play the Tigers hit back and despite Manly’s dominance, somehow with only 5 minutes remaining in the half the scores were levelled.   Two late tries to Gosiewski and the NOT GUILTY Dylan Walker resulted in a 18-6 lead to Manly at the break, a score-line that more accurately reflected Manlys dominance. In the Sea Eagle’s opinion this was Walkers finest performance since returning from the erroneous 9-week no fault stand-down imposed on him by the NRL at the commencement of the season.   Manly continued to dominate the Tigers in the second half and eventually ran out 32-12 winners. With the for and against boost from this game and other results going their way Manly now find themselves in the top 4, a far cry from this time last year when they were challenging for the spoon.

  Round 23   Manly Sea Eagles              18                   Defeated    Canberra Raiders            14

  Watching the pre-game analysis on Fox Sports the Sea Eagle was bemused by a question posed by host Lara Pitt to the panel (of experts) to the effect of “How does Des (Hasler) get Manly up for the game today?” Seriously, and bearing in mind that a top 4 spot was on the line, do these people actually get paid to make such insipid comments.   Befitting a game with so much at stake, the opening 20 minutes was a tight and tense affair. Played in front of a large and biased home crowd the Raiders with a glut of possession and penalties applied plenty of pressure but Manly’s defence held strong.

  The Raiders then appeared to have opened the scoring when Jack Wighton crossed, only to be denied by a desperate Cherry Baby strip. Minutes later however, the Raiders did finally score when Jarrod Croker breached some tired Manly goal-line defence. Manly had chances of their own, first when Dylan Walker was denied due to an obstruction and then some desperate defence from the Raiders thwarted an opportunity to Rueben Garrick.   With both sides acknowledging their opponents’ defensive capabilities penalty conversions firstly taken by the Raiders and then Manly (twice) resulted in a 8-4 lead to the home side at the break.   Signs were not good when Manly returned for the second half minus Moses Suli (ankle) and Joel Thompson (wrist fracture) and things did not improve when Horhay Torfua failed to defuse a bomb in the opening set and an ensuing penalty gifted the Raiders another easy 2 points.   With their backs to the wall, a length of the field intercept to try scoring freak, Rueben Garrick enhanced by a penalty for a late hit after scoring and with 20 minutes to go somehow Manly found themselves in front.   Proving that they were indeed up for the contest and despite the pre-game reservations of Ms Pitt, Manly continued to lift. A try to Jake Trbjovic extended their lead to 18-10 and with 10 minutes to go it looked like Manly were home. Unfortunately, the Raiders immediately hit back and the game was still up for grabs.   The Raiders then applied the blow torch to Manly and threw everything they had at them hoping to replicate last weeks come from behind win against the Filthy Storm. The Manly defence in the final minutes was nothing short of outstanding as they managed to repel the Raiders onslaught and hold on for a stirring victory.

  Next week its back to Brookie to take on the Filthy wrestling cheating rorters in what again is a must win game for Manly in their quest for a top 4 finish.

   THE PUNISHMENT MATRIX

  Obviously aware that Mad Monday festivities are fast approaching, it has been reported in the Sunday Telegraph that the NRL has released what has been termed a Punishment Matrix to address off-field atrocities. Whilst it is likely that the introduction of said matrix could be a season too late, the Matrix has the potential to make the Director of Controversies role largely redundant.   Rugby league never fails to deliver with its stupidity. This one looks like the brain explosion of an ex-politician, but that is merely conjecture at this stage.   In response, the Sea Eagle in conjunction with the Director of Controversy has developed his own Punishment Matrix.   Offense: Being unable to name the team that plays out of the Shire. Punishment: Breaking on the wheel

  Offense: Being unable to differentiate between a Newcastle Knights and Barcelona FC guernsey. Punishment: Waterboarding   Offense: Being intoxicated and abusive towards police in a foreign country (e.g. Singapore). Punishment: Six strokes with a cane rattan on the bare buttocks   Offense: Erroneously standing down a player under the no-fault policy who is not guilty. Punishment: The Judas Cradle

  Offense: Non-specific administrative embarrassment Punishment: Public stoning at NRL fixture at half time   The Sea Eagle is not sure what relevance former whiz kid Todd Carney has to the matrix given that he has not participated in the NRL for more than 5 years and had no (known) involvement in any of last season’s end of year indiscretions, but  he is no doubt pleased that there is life after football for Todd as the public face of the matrix.   The Sea Eagle is pleased for Todd who is now also an ambassador for the eponymous corporate bookie Sportsbet. His latest bubbler ads are the work of marketing genius.

  The placement of the article at the bottom of the page is also worth noting and contains what can only be described as quote of the year by a concerned mum to the effect of “My two-year-old loves that bubbler, I cannot fathom letting her use it now”. One can only imagine her outrage should she witness the one and only Todd the Bubbler doing what he does best.   Let’s face it, Todd is the gift that keeps giving and the Sea Eagle implores Todd and/or his management to immediately seek trademark over his image, likeness and brand. “The Bubbler ™”.   Fairly soon the Sea Eagle expects to see a range of French Bidet products under the Carney Bubbler brand. As the man on the fata aka Sam Kekovic says, you know it makes sense.  

NATHAN BROWN

  This week we were met with the shock horror revelations that Newcastle coach Nathan Brown had decided to “move on” on what appeared to be a mutually agreed exit, 3 weeks out from the semis and with the Knights still in the hunt for a top 8 spot.

In the News Limited press around 20 August 2019 we received this quote from the coach “Brown said the time is right to move on. “My main job was to come here and put the Club back together,” Brown said. “It’s been a tough but enjoyable job. I’ve met lots of great people and I feel the club is far better off for me coming here. “The roster and salary cap issues have been resolved and there’s the potential of a team to have sustained success. “A lot of the heavy lifting has been done and now I’m leaving it to the next group of club leaders to continue the job. “But it’s important to remember the year is not over and I look forward to finishing the season off strongly and push for a final birth.”   Suffice it to say as the Knights pressed on for a finals berth in round 23 the Knights capitulated and were smashed 46 -4 by the West Tigers. Worse still, Brown was reported as suggesting earlier in the week that the winning of grand finals at the Knights was for someone else (it certainly was not his role).

  Given his record as a player in the NRL Premiership stakes (i.e. Nil) and his background with the woefully deficient St George Dragons of the 1990s and early 00s one must commend coach Brown on at least adopting the well documented philosophies of Dirty Harry “A man has got to know his limitations”.   The press is also reporting that ex-Saints player Jason Ryles is also in contention for a spot as coach of Newcastle in 2020. Ryles suffers virtually all of the same problems as coach Brown has, namely being an ex St George player who has never won anything as an NRL player or NRL head coach. And, who has a severe case of DFI. Do we dare to dream the Knights go with DFI infected Jason Ryles ? The Sea Eagle sincerely hope so (together of course with a new and well documented assistant coach al la Trent Barrett).   Let’s face it, head coaching positions at an NRL club are no place for a non-premiership winning, DFI infected ex Dragons. Manly have acknowledged this and have reaped the benefits in 2019. The lights have also come on at the Knights too (provided they don’t go with Ryles) and they can look forward to 2020 with optimism. That only leaves the Dragons, and surely Coach MacGregors days are number at this hapless rabble. 

THE SEA EAGLE

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

5th February >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Mark 6:1-6 for Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year: ‘He was amazed at their lack of faith’.

Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Mark 6:1-6

'A prophet is only despised in his own country'

Jesus went to his home town and his disciples accompanied him. With the coming of the sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue and most of them were astonished when they heard him. They said, ‘Where did the man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been granted him, and these miracles that are worked through him? This is the carpenter, surely, the son of Mary, the brother of James and Joset and Jude and Simon? His sisters, too, are they not here with us?’ And they would not accept him. And Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house’; and he could work no miracle there, though he cured a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.

Gospel (USA)

Mark 6:1-6

A prophet is not without honor except in his native place.

Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.

Reflections (4)

(i) Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year

Jesus had spent the best part of thirty years in Nazareth. During that time he was known by all as the carpenter, the son of Mary. However, since leaving Nazareth, Jesus’ life had taken a new direction. He had thrown himself into the work that God had given him to do. He had left Nazareth as a carpenter; he returned as a teacher and a healer. There was in fact much more to Jesus that his own townspeople had ever suspected while he was living among them. The gospel reading suggests that they could not accept this ‘more’; they rejected him. They wanted him to be the person they had always known; they would not allow him to move on from their former perception of him. The image they had of him, which they held on to with great tenacity, became a block to their learning more about him. There was more to Jesus than the people of Nazareth were aware of. Indeed there is always more to every human being than we are aware of. That is true even of those we would claim to know well. We can easily assume that we know someone, when, in reality, we only know one side to them. We are each made in God’s image. There is a profound mystery to each one of us. We can never fully probe the mystery of another person’s life. This is uniquely true of Jesus. It was Jesus’ very ordinariness that made it difficult for the people of Nazareth to see him as he really was, in all his mystery. God was powerfully present to them in and through someone who was as ordinary, in many respects, as they themselves. God continues to come to us today in and through the ordinary, in and through those who are most familiar to us. The primary way the Lord comes to us is in and through the everyday. The ordinary and familiar will often reveal to us the mystery of God’s presence, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

And/Or

(ii) Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

The people of Nazareth were slow to recognize the implications of the great wisdom Jesus possessed and the power for good that was at work through him on behalf of the sick and suffering. They should have concluded from all of this that God must be working through this man in a special way. Instead, they would not accept him; in the words of Jesus, they despised him. He was too familiar to them; they knew his mother and his family. He was one of their own; he was too ordinary. He could not possibly be all that different to everyone else in Nazareth. It is a clear case of familiarity breeding contempt. The reading suggests that we can sometimes be slow to recognize the presence of God in the ordinary and the familiar. We don’t have to go long distances, or encounter extraordinary phenomena, to make contact with the wisdom and the power of God. The Lord’s presence is all around us in the near and the familiar, in the humdrum and in the ordinary, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear. The gospel reading invites us to see the familiar and the ordinary with new eyes, the eyes of faith. The failure of the people of Nazareth to see in this way inhibited what Jesus could do among them, ‘he could work no miracle there’. Our seeing with the eyes of faith gives the Lord space to work among us in new ways.

And/Or

 (iii) Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year

In today’s gospel reading the people of Nazareth took offense at the fact that one of their own, someone whose family they knew well, someone whom they had known as a carpenter, was now displaying great wisdom in the words he spoke and great power in his deeds on behalf of others. ‘What is this wisdom that has been granted to him, and these miracles that are worked through him?’ They took offense, it seems, not at his actual wisdom and power, but at the fact that one of their own was displaying such wisdom and power. It was as if Jesus was too ordinary, too much like themselves, to be taken seriously. They were coming up against the scandal of the incarnation, the Word who was God became flesh as all of us are flesh. God chose to come to us in and through someone who was like us in all things, except sin. When Jesus went on to speak about God, he often pointed to the ordinary, to the familiar, to the normal – a farmer sowing seed, a man on a journey from Jerusalem to Jericho, a rebellious son in a family, a widow looking for justice from a judge. The life and teaching of Jesus shows us that God speaks to us in and through the ordinary events of life. What we need are the eyes to see and the ears to hear the extraordinary in the ordinary, the divine in the human.

 And/Or

(iv) Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year

Jesus had spent the best part of thirty years in Nazareth. During that time he was known by all as the carpenter, the son of Mary. However, since leaving Nazareth, Jesus’ life had taken a new direction. He had thrown himself into the work that God had given him to do. He had left Nazareth as a carpenter; he returned as a teacher and a healer. There was in fact much more to Jesus that his own townspeople had ever suspected while he was living among them. The gospel reading suggests that they could not accept this ‘more’; they rejected him. They wanted him to be the person they had always known; they would not allow him to move on from that. The image they had of him, which they held on to with great tenacity, became a block to their learning more about him. There was more to Jesus than the people of Nazareth were aware of. Indeed there is always more to every human being than we are aware of. That is true even of those we would claim to know well. We can easily assume that we know someone, when, in reality, we only know one side to them. We are each made in God’s image. There is a profound mystery to each one of us. We can never fully probe the mystery of another person’s life. This is uniquely true of Jesus. It was Jesus’ very ordinariness that made it difficult for the people of Nazareth to see him as he really was, in all his mystery. God was powerfully present to them in and through someone who was as ordinary, in many respects, as they themselves. God continues to come to us today in and through the ordinary, in and through those who are most familiar to us. The primary way the Lord comes to us is in and through the everyday. The ordinary and familiar often reveals to us the mystery of God’s presence.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  revmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin

[spiteandalice]

Judas Touch Pt 5

Sincerest apologies for my scatterbrain. Whenever I sit down to write this my brain goes BUT WHAT IF DAUNTLESS WERE WEREWOLVES! WRITE THAT! Or I get ideas for the second story which is actually my first that I never continued past the basic outlines. 

SMUT warning, language warning and also violence warning because this character has a lot of violent thoughts.

tagging, as per request: @beautifulramblingbrains @beltz2016

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR Fuck Eric and his stupid face. Fuck Max. Fuck the fucking infirmary and all the wretched staff. They conspired against me and that is so not appreciated. I fell asleep on the ride back and when I woke up I was in the infirmary. Handcuffed to a cot and sedated. For my own good. The second I get out of these cuffs I will be leaving a trail of limbs behind all the way to the leadership offices.

Lucy, my nurse who is most definitely strung out on Amity serum, comes in with that chipper smile and bounce in her step that instantly sets my teeth on edge. She is the one that informed me that they had to run some tests before giving me a healing serum or anything other than small doses of the harmless painkillers half of our faction eats like candy. Because, you see, I had unprotected intercourse and could be pregnant.

For that alone I will cut off his balls with a rusty butter knife.

“Doing good I see. We will get you some good food in a bit, you need more nutritious meals in your diet after what you've been through, especially given the circumstances.”

She smiles at me as if we were best friends talking about our crushes during a sleepover. If she tries to braid my hair or paint my nails I will put her head through the nearest wall.

“But first, you have a visitor. Quite a few, actually, but you're supposed to rest. Can't send Max away though so he'll be in shortly.”

“I think we should take that rest thing very seriously, don't you think. Just have someone shoot everyone that tries to disturb me. Even better, just give me my gun.”

That giggle is the most terrifying thing I have ever heard and I have heard my own bones break.

Unfortunately my suggestion fell on deaf ears, because Max strolls in minutes later, looking like the pompous ass that he is. They have some strange birds out in Amity that are strutting around as if they owned the place and I named the fattest of them Max. They roasted him during my last ambassador visit and he was rather tasty.

“Mina, it is good to see you are up….” Max has one of those faces that seem completely blank at times, making it a bitch to read for me. But he looks at my cuffed wrist and chuckles, that isn't hard to decipher. Dauntless men are a bunch of sexist pigs. “Eric enjoyed that a little too much.”

“Yeah, wait until I get out of here, he will find that even more enjoyable.”

Our grand leader raises an eyebrow at me and instantly makes me feel like a child throwing a tantrum, which I can ignore like a pro. I was raised by the most intimidating bitch this faction has seen before I came along, he has nothing on that. Max strolls over to the tiny window with his hands clasped behind his back, something I feel he would have picked up from an old book if I thought he was truly capable of reading. We are not the brainy faction and reading is somewhat of a shameful little vice people do behind closed doors - funny, because I can’t count all the semi-public blowjobs I’ve walked past in my years here.

“I realize that I shouldn't have sent you out so soon, so part of this mess is on me. You were absolutely reckless and ill prepared to deal with surprises. Never, ever go out on a mission without your phone, Mina, that's one of the first things we teach our fledgling soldiers. You need a way to contact us at all times in case the radio fails. How you didn't think about having one of your team get back to us… it shows me that you aren't fully ready to lead our groups out there.”

I open my mouth, ready to start the angry retorts, but he holds up his hand.  Without even fucking looking at me, how creepy is that?

“However… you handled yourself well, given the circumstances. All of yours came back relatively unharmed. Which, of course, is a testament to their training as much as your leadership. I realize that you have been through a lot lately, which is why you will continue to focus on our initiates for now. It will take two days for the test results to come back, you will rest until then. We will decide how to proceed after we have news on your… status. Although, to be honest, it's about damn time. The new ruling was passed just around the time you disappeared so we cut Eric some slack, but since you are back, well.  That saves us some time.”

I'm not often speechless but I'm positively dumbstruck. What the actual fuck? He is the one who sent me on this supposedly easy trip. Just days after I got back from being tortured and all that fun shit. Now he's telling me I'm not fit to do my job? That is rich. And not one word about the patron saint of sanctimonious assclowns who decided that I was some fucking damsel in distress? That Nose has read way too many old books about knights and secretly virtuous bandits saving helpless womenfolk in need. And then… hold on.

“What new ruling?”

It is nearly impossible to look any more condescending than Max right now, but he seems to remember that I've only been back for a few days and can't possibly be up to speed on everything that has been going on.

“There's been talk about how to improve birth rates, they are low all across the board. It's now a prerequisite for leaders and higher ranking members of all factions to be married and have children. Ideally before they are chosen, which doesn't apply to those already holding a position when the ruling came to effect, of course. They have a certain time frame to find a suitable partner, which was suspended in Eric’s case due to his age and circumstances back then. And we made an exception for you for now since it's only a matter of time that you two make it official, especially if you really are pregnant already. Two birds, one stone.”

And with the most aggravating smug expression he drops some papers onto my bed and saunters away.

Yep, going to kill them. All of them. Slowly.

In what has to be one of the most amateur moves of the century Max actually left stacks of paperwork held together by paperclips. I was born Dauntless, we handcuffed each other for fun in daycare to see who could get out the fastest.

So I am currently on my way to my alleged betrothed, head held high as I limp around the compound barefoot and bruised in nothing but sweatpants and a tank top. People move out of the way in spite of my pathetic appearance because hell hath no fury like a Dauntless woman on her way to smite patriarchy.

The raven haired chick that's supposed to be Eric’s assistant doesn't even bother to try and stop me so I make a point of remembering her name.  Raven, oh dear. But Raven shall receive a generous gift basket soon. Maybe we'll share it sitting on a pile of heads. She inclines her head towards the closed door and smirks at me, I can hear him snarl at someone. This should be good.

There is a certain beauty in the sound a door makes when it is opened so forcefully it ricochets off the wall, even more beautiful when it's accompanied by the various sounds of shock a group of five already intimidated grown men is capable of producing. I look them over and growl.

“Out. NOW!”

They scurry away like spooked little kittens before Eric can say anything to the contrary and I silently dare the little bastard to say something. To give me one more reason to fucking maim him. But he doesn’t, merely looks at me with that cold, slightly disgusted look of his he bestows on mortals. Asshole.

“You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“What did you say? You want me to crush your skull? That can definitely be arranged.”

As an afterthought I kick the door shut, I can at least pretend that we are trying to keep this quiet. At this point I don’t care if we do this in the middle of the Pit on a Saturday night, since everyone is up in my business already anyway.

“You’re acting like a fucking child.”

He is still sitting behind his desk, arms folded in front of him, looking strangely tense. Eric is always so nonchalant, even when he gets angry, but this is different. Not that he would like it if I let on to seeing the difference, he likes to be the unreadable one. The aloof leader. My ass.

Even though moving hurts, a lot, I manage to hobble to his desk and shove it towards him. It’s relatively solid, but I know that one of the legs on his side has been wobbly since I spent some time bent over the thing, it was shaking considerably. Luck is on my side and the leg breaks, sending his computer and neat stacks of paperwork flying.

Finally, a reaction.

Grinding his teeth hard enough for me to hear Eric slowly rises out of his chair and fixates me with his patented stare that is supposed to make me submit on the spot. All it does is annoy me, and make me a little wet. His nostrils flare, too.

Maybe a little more than a little wet.

“So when were you going to tell me about your little schemes, there, leaderboy? Do you honestly think you could trick ME into this shit? I don’t want to get fucking married and I don’t want to breed, for fuck’s sake. They can take their leadership position and shove it up their collective asses for all I care, I’d rather go back to listening to Amity’s crop problems.”

The computer screen crunches under his boot because he is too busy staring at me having my outburst. This is usually more fun when the other party actually responds though, and he’s beginning to creep me out. Without a word he grabs me and slams me against the door, I think we’ve been here before, not too long ago. My brain isn’t working properly right now. Might be the lack of oxygen because he’s got a hand over my throat, pressing down just far enough to make my vision a little blurry around the edges. Might also be because the blood flow to my brain has been slowed down in favor of sending more blood rushing through my nether regions.

“I'm not tricking you into anything. You neglected to take care of birth control so I informed them of that. And you might not give a shit about your position but if I want to keep mine I have to get married and at least pretend to adhere to the new rules. Matter of fact, Jeanine has suggested a few suitable  candidates I didn't bother to look at yet.”

Of course she did. Something inside me tries to protest at the idea of Eric marrying some dumb Dauntless bimbo for appearances. Truly a dumb move because at this point nobody would believe that he actually wants her, not after… this. Maybe he has a point. I will not admit that even if it would save my life. It is a fact that he can’t stand about 99.9% of the population of this city and that is a very generous number, all things considered. The thought of having to share a place with someone, even just for appearances, makes my skin crawl. Married people don’t live in separate apartments, do they?

“So you didn’t try to knock me up on purpose?”

My words sound squeaky since he is still trying to strangle me. Eric still looks angry but he raises an eyebrow at me and something about his face is completely off. It’s not anger, there are several shades of that everyone here is very familiar with. It’s not lust, either, although somewhere deep inside he would probably not object to fucking me right now. Not quite sad, either. Disappointed? Why would he be disappointed.

“So you really think I would trick you like that.”

Eric has a talent for making it sound like he is not asking questions and that he wouldn’t be interested in the answer if people still took it as one. But I am beginning to realize that he wants me to trust him. After all, I sleep when he is around, more or less. I’m naked. Granted, I have developed a habit of waking up with my gun in my hand, but that is a recent development. So me assuming the worst, just like everyone else would, is pretty much the opposite of what he expects of me.

“Excuse me for not being able to read your fucking mind, I will get right to practicing that.”

I do notice that the pressure around my throat eases just that little bit that makes all the difference between life and death and I gasp, desperate to take advantage of the once again relatively unrestricted airflow. But Eric still has that strange look and it bothers me more than it probably should, being a friend with undeniable benefits and all. I sigh and try to gather my wits.

“Look. I’ve been kidnapped and tortured. I come back to this clusterfuck, am made a leader and almost killed once more, excuse me for being in a mindset where expecting the worst is kind of the thing to do. It has nothing to do with you, Eric.” There it is, his face looks a little less miserable, but that glimmer of hope hiding behind the frown is almost worse. Definitely worse is the urge to protect that little spark at all cost. “And I guess you are the best choice for this marriage bullshit, out of everyone I hate you the least and your chances of surviving the first three months are pretty good. I’ll think about it, alright. I just… need to sort through shit.”

If I didn’t knew any better I’d think he looks relieved, but it is quickly replaced with his trademark smirk. “I can work with that…” His hand yanks down my sweatpants and much to both our surprise I am not wearing anything underneath. Who the hell undressed me in the infirmary? They sure got an eye full. The new underwear I bought is uncomfortable and I’ve always preferred going commando, as they say.

Coming back to my senses I push off the wall and shove Eric backwards until he is in his chair again, before I can straddle him he has his pants unzipped and is ready for me to slip onto him. Not a single sound can be heard from inside this room as I lower myself slowly, torturing both of us inch by inch until I am fully seated and Eric grabs my hips, trying to urge me to move. It’s always like this, fast and hard and relentless but maybe I’m in the mood for something new. If the guy can fucking spoon me all night he can let me have this moment.

And he does, even though I can see he doesn’t like it much, at least not until I dip my head to catch his bottom lip between my teeth and lightly tug on it. It gives him something to focus on and the bruising grip on my hips loosens a little when I suck on his tongue, Eric even groans, a strangled little sound but it’s there. Another follows when I begin to slowly roll my hips, not lifting myself up at all but grinding against him instead.He wraps both arms around me and I half expect him to try and take charge, which he could easily do given his clear physical advantage. Instead he just leaves them around me, holding on to me and steadying me at the same time. It’s kind of nice.

Somewhere outside people are talking in hushed voices but I only hear them as if I’m under water somewhere, distorted and distant. All my focus is solidly tethered to where we are joined, my tightening muscles and the feeling of my skin sliding against his in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. The friction of coarse hair against my sensitive flesh is soon gone, soothed by sweat and the wetness pooling at the apex of my thighs whenever he just so much as raises an eyebrow at me.

Then his phone rings and he holds up his hand. Is he fucking serious?

“It’s Jeanine.”

Of course he is fucking serious. I watch, undoubtedly with my mouth wide open, as he picks the damn thing up and greets that witch, at least he has the decency to sound annoyed. Good, he is currently balls deep in his probably, maybe future wife.

“Eric. You still have not answered my message so i decided to be a little more proactive, after checking your schedule I saw that you have an opening right now. The most suitable candidate i personally picked should arrive at your office any moment…”

My eyes widen but before I can snatch the phone away eric blocks me with his free arm and scowls at me. In response I tighten my muscles and he hisses.

“No need for that Jeanine, you know that.”

Good boy. I begin to slightly rock my hips back and forth, thoroughly enjoying his grimace. And I am very much looking forward to his retaliation as soon as he gets off the phone.

“Please don’t tell me you are still hanging on to the foolish notion that that savage woman is a good match for you. If you think that you have to, given the circumstances, I can evaluate the test personally, I’ll have someone bring her samples up to me this instant. Even if she should be pregnant, we could…”

Within seconds Eric’s face switches from mildly annoyed to murderous.

“Don’t even say that. My answer has been, is, and will be no, no matter how often you bring this up. I am very happy to accommodate you on a professional level, but this concerns my private life and I decide who I marry, if I do and when.”

This man is a god and I don’t think I have ever liked him more than in this very second when he is telling my least favorite person in existence to shove her ideas up her ass. Which, considering how stuck up she is, should be ready to burst already with all the sticks up there. I grind my hips harder and Eric growls, but he is grinning at me.

The Matthews woman is going on about how, as a leader, he has a duty to his faction 24/7 and how the perfect match for him should reflect him in the best way possible but I can tell he lost all interest in the conversation a while ago.

“I’ll have to let you go, I am currently in a meeting with a very savage woman that is demanding my attention. Have your assistant contact my assistant about our next official meeting. I’m done with this bullshit.”

And he hangs up, drops his phone to the floor and gets up, all within seconds. I’m firmly wrapped around him and not sure if he’s grinning or snarling, but I don’t think even he is very sure about that.

“You fucking bitch”, he hisses and sends shivers down my spine, that man has a way with words that makes at least this savage woman swoon.

There is some rustling and crashing as he flings away things that have fallen off his toppled desk to make room on the floor, I may or may not be laughing about his urgency, but once he has me on the floor and the admittedly pretty loud sound of flesh slapping against flesh can be heard that laughing turns into barely muffled moans and it doesn’t take long before we both cry out in unison, muffled by each other’s necks, jaws locked and tender flesh caught between our teeth like two dogs fighting over a bone. We will be walking around with teeth marks, both of us, but that is nothing new. Maybe we can make that our form of engagement thing, most here get a tattoo when married and do a little trinket exchange before that to signal that they are off the market. I like this better, the skin on my neck an angry red, teeth indentations clearly visible, a little bit of blood trickling down.

When we stumble out of his office, both in a suspiciously good mood, me pulling up my pants, he just zipping up his, Raven sits behind her desk and bites into her fist, barely hiding her amusement. There is a girl, and she is really barely more than that, sitting on a chair waiting, wearing her best little dress and too much makeup. Eric looks her over and mutters a ”Hell, no.” that, embarrassingly enough, makes me giggle. Which, in turn, makes him smirk at me and slap my ass. I guess we’re doing that thing with touching in front of others now?

Raven leans forward and clears her throat. “Sir, I will call maintenance to have someone check your intercom since it doesn’t turn off anymore.”

I look at Eric, he looks at me. So… they could hear everything. Every muttered curse, every slap, every hiss. I shrug, he grins. I was born without the part of the brain that lets you feel embarrassment.

“Thank you, Raven. Take the afternoon off, clear my schedule.”

And with that he throws me over his shoulder and walks towards his apartment. Our apartment. For once I’m not inclined to protest, instead I practice my regal wave when he passes a group of gawking initiates.

PART SIX

[hikaru9]

About the similarities between Magnus and Jace

Third chapter of the “About Magnus” series. I mentioned in the previous meta that I wanted to focus on Magnus’s relationship with the characters in “The Mortal Instruments” trilogy. I would have loved to do something shorter and more coherent but then, someone (*cough @alyxhavok cough*), pointed out some interesting aspects and nudged me in a certain direction. And here I am, writing a whole meta focusing on Magnus and Jace. This is not much about their relationship per se: it’s about the similarities in their vulnerabilty as characters.

I’m not talking about their physical appearance, of course. I’m referring to their personality, behaviour and past. There are certainly more aspects to cover but I decided to address five.

Thanks again to @alyxhavok who started this (<3), @reivenesque who metaed my meta and killed me with Magnus feelings all over again, and to @sfjessii who’s basically a saint, because she reads everything and puts up with all the metas and fangirling.

Quotes and gifs from:

“City of Bones” (first book of the “Mortal Instruments”) “City of Heavenly Fire” (sixth book of the “Mortal Instruments”) “The Bane Chronicles” Shadowhunters TV Show – Season 1, Episode 12 “Malec” Shadowhunters TV Show – Season 2, Episode 02 “A Door Into the Dark” Shadowhunters TV Show – Season 2, Episode 08 “Love is the Devil” 

1. The hurtful past

We all know their past and we know how all the trauma they went through shaped them in what and who they are in the present time.     Jace grew up with his father, Valentine, developing an unhealthy relationship. On the one hand, he loved him, on the other he just hated him for how he raised him and how he taught him that love is weakness. Jace starts to understand better his relationship with his father wasn’t healthy when he meets the Lightwoods, and even more when he falls in love with Clary. His hate grows when he discovers Valentine is not his father and that all his life has been a lie: he was just a means to an end. Being used as a tool, without any control over his life, made him distant, cold and very good at pushing everyone away.     He had no mother at first, until Maryse Lightwood came into his life. At the age of 10, he lost the person he thought he loved the most: his father. He had no mother, no siblings. He knew loss, at that point: the feeling of being alone, forgotten by the entire world. Accepting the Lightwoods in his life was a difficult process: he didn’t trust people, only is father, who knew better, yet he had left him. So why would anyone love him for who he is, a scared and lonely boy?

    For Magnus, the process of shaping his identity was very similar to Jace’s. First, he doesn’t really know his real father either, because he grew up with his stepfather. Second, he lost both his mother and stepfather because they discovered he was half demon.

“You are different. Maybe not better—but different. And it’s no picnic being different. You want to know what it’s like when your parents are good churchgoing folk and you happen to be born with the devil’s mark?” He pointed at his eyes, fingers splayed. “When your father flinches at the sight of you and your mother hangs herself in the barn, driven mad by what she’s done? When I was ten, my father tried to drown me in the creek. I lashed out at him with everything I had—burned him where he stood. I went to the fathers of the church eventually, for sanctuary. They hid me. They say that pity’s a bitter thing, but it’s better than hate. When I found out what I was really, only half a human being, I hated myself. Anything’s better than that.”

 City of Bones Chapter 13: The Memory of Whiteness

His real father is the prince of Edom, and all he wants from Magnus is his life and his powers. In fact, they met twice in Magnus’s entire life.

Clary stared. At first she saw nothing, just a shifting patch of shadow, and then a figure evolved out of the darkness. A tall man, as pale as bone, in a pure white suit; silver cuff links gleamed at his wrists, carved in the shape of flies. His face was a human face, pale skin pulled tight over bone, cheekbones sharp as blades. He didn’t have hair so much as a sparkling coronet of barbed wires. His eyes were gold-green, and slit-pupilled like a cat’s. “Father,” said Magnus, and the word was an exhalation of sorrow. “You came.” The man smiled. His front teeth were sharp, pointed like feline teeth. “My son,” he said. “It has been a long time since you called on me. I was beginning to despair that you ever would again.” “I hadn’t planned to,” Magnus said dryly. “I called on you once, to determine that you were my father. That once was enough.” “You wound me,” said the man, and he turned his pointed-tooth smile on the others. “I am Asmodeus,” he said. “One of the Nine Princes of Hell. You may know my name. […] “Since this place—Edom—is your realm,” Jace said, “then you’re responsible for—for what happened here?” “It is my realm, though I am rarely here,” said Asmodeus with a martyred sigh. “Used to be an exciting place. The Nephilim of this realm put up quite the fight. When they invented the skeptron, I rather thought they might win out at the last moment, but the Jonathan Shadowhunter of this world was a divider, not a uniter, and in the end they destroyed themselves. Everyone does, you know. We demons get the blame, but we only open the door. It is humanity who steps through it.” “Don’t excuse yourself,” Magnus snapped. “You as much as murdered my mother—” “She was a willing little piece, I assure you,” said Asmodeus, and Magnus flushed red across his cheekbones. Clary felt a dull pang of shock that it was actually possible to do that to Magnus, to hurt him with barbs about his family. It had been so long, and he was so collected. But then, perhaps your parents could always hurt you, no matter how old you were.

City of Heavenly Fire Chapter 23: Judas Kiss

No one in his life ever loved him, for the exception, perhaps, of his mother (about whom we know very little).

“It is something to remember, if we feel distant from humans,” Catarina said. “We owe a great deal to human love. We live forever by the grace of human love, which rocked strange children in their cradles and did not despair and did not turn away. I know which side of my heritage my soul comes from.” [...] “Our fathers were demons,” said Catarina. “Our mothers were heroes.” That was true, of course, for them. Most warlocks were born wearing unmistakable signs of what they were, and some warlock children died young because their parents abandoned or killed what they saw as unnatural creatures. Some were raised as Catarina and Ragnor had been, in love that was greater than fear. Magnus’s warlock’s mark was his eyes, the pupils slit, the color lucent and green-gold at the wrong angles, but these features had not developed immediately. He had not been born with Catarina’s blue or Ragnor’s green skin, had been born a seemingly human baby with unusual amber eyes. Magnus’s mother had not realized his father was a demon for some time, not until she had gone to the cradle one morning and seen her child staring back at her with the eyes of a cat. She knew, then, what had happened, that whatever had come to her in the night in the shape of her husband had not been her husband. When she had realized that, she had not wanted to go on living. And she hadn’t. Magnus did not know if she had been a hero or not. He had not been old enough to know about her life, or fully comprehend her pain. He could not be sure in the way Ragnor and Catarina looked sure. He did not know if, when his mother knew the truth, she had still loved him or if all love had been blotted out by darkness. A darkness greater than the one known by his friends’ mothers, for Magnus’s father was no ordinary demon.

The Bane Chronicles Story 1: What Really Happened in Peru

He felt alone, like Jace did, and moreover he didn’t feel accepted for who he was (and is). As a consequence, he expects people to judge him and leave him eventually, because his past taught him that that is what happens in any case.

Magnus talked a little with Imasu about that, about the Dutch and Batavian blood in his own veins. He did not talk about demonic blood or his father or magic, not yet. Magnus had learned to be careful about giving his memories with his heart. When people died, it felt like all the pieces of yourself you had given to them went as well. It took so long, building yourself back up until you were whole again, and you were never entirely the same. That had been a long, painful lesson.

 The Bane Chronicles Story 1: What Really Happened in Peru (1890)

It is interesting to notice how, in the end, they found their happiness in people who are not part of their blood family, who don’t “need” to love them because they share the same blood. Love is love, no matter who you are.

2. Vulnerability

Knowing what they went through makes it easier for the audience to understand why Jace and Magnus behave in a certain way or say certain things.     The trauma of the past pushed them into closing off. Both of them hide what they truly feel because they’re scared: if someone knows they’ll surely push them away and leave, or hurt them because they might see them as weak (like Valentine to Jace, or Camille and his real father to Magnus). Thus, it is better to hide their true identity and be quicker than people: better push them away first. They both do that in two ways:

1. By evading meaningful relationships, because it would hurt too much if their loved one discovered their past, their hidden fears and intimate personality and pushed them away or deemed them not worthy.     It’s better, for both of them, to keep everyone at a safe distance, so that if these same people decide to leave them and hurt them as a consequence, it will be less painful than the first time (with their family and some lovers for Magnus).     There are, however, people who shake the fundament of this “rule of life”: the Lightwoods and Clary for Jace; Ragnor, Catarina and Alec for Magnus. They both love these people so much, yet they’re scared of the possibility of the past happening again. It’s haunting them. That’s why these relationships have high and low moments. For example, at the beginning of the first book, Jace’s and Alec’s relationship is not at its best: Jace is taking Alec for granted, and in the meanwhile he keeps on perfecting this cold, powerful and efficient façade with everyone, leading him to a shaky and apparent independence from family and loved ones. Clary manages to destroy his wrong beliefs and restore somehow the idea that love is not a weakness. Even more, seeing Alec hurt made him understand that he can’t live his life without his brother and parabatai, and his family in general.     Magnus has had several lovers throughout his life and he wasn’t as closed off as Jace on the idea of finding love.

It had been some time since Magnus was last in love, and he was beginning to feel the effects. He remembered the glow of love as brighter and the pain of loss as gentler than they had actually been. He found himself looking into many faces for potential love, and seeing many people as shining vessels of possibility. Perhaps this time there would be that indefinable something that sent hungry hearts roving, longing and searching for something, they knew not what, and yet could not give up the quest. Every time a face or a look or a gesture caught Magnus’s eye these days, it woke to life a refrain in Magnus’s breast, a song in persistent rhythm with his heartbeat. Perhaps this time, perhaps this one.

The Bane Chronicles Story 3: Vampires, Scones, and Edmund Herondale (1857)

The past, however, keeps on repeating itself: his lovers either die or push him away once they know his identity (the warlock one or the intimate one).

But as the seasons changed, Magnus began to think that he should tell Imasu about magic at least, before he suggested that Magnus stop living with Catarina and Ragnor, and Imasu stop living with his mother and sister, and that they find a place together that Imasu could fill with music and Magnus with magic. It was time to settle down, Magnus thought, for a short while at least. It came as a shock when Imasu suggested, quite quietly: “Perhaps it is time for you and your friends to think of leaving Puno.” “What, without you?” Magnus asked. He had been lying sunning himself outside Imasu’s house, content and making his plans for a little way into the future. He was caught off guard enough to be stupid. “Yes,” Imasu answered, looking regretful about the prospect of making himself clearer. “Absolutely without me. It’s not that I have not had a wonderful time with you. We have had fun together, you and I, haven’t we?” he added pleadingly. Magnus nodded, with the most nonchalant air he could manage, and then immediately ruined it by saying, “I thought so. So why end it?” Perhaps it was his mother, or his sister, some member of Imasu’s family, objecting to the fact that they were both men. This would not be the first or the last time that happened to Magnus, although Imasu’s mother had always given Magnus the impression he could do anything he liked with her son just so long as he never touched a musical instrument in her presence ever again. “It’s you,” Imasu burst out. “It is the way you are. I cannot be with you any longer because I do not want to be.” “Please,” Magnus said after a pause. “Carry on showering me with compliments. This is an extremely pleasant experience for me, by the way, and precisely how I was hoping my day would go.” “You are just...” Imasu took a deep, frustrated breath. “You seem always... ephemeral, like a glittering shallow stream that passes the whole world by. Not something that will stay, not something that will last.” He made a small, helpless gesture, as if letting something go, as if Magnus had wanted to be let go. “Not someone permanent.” That made Magnus laugh, suddenly and helplessly, and he threw his head back. He’d learned this lesson a long time ago: Even in the midst of heartbreak, you could still find yourself laughing. Laughter had always come easily to Magnus, and it helped, but not enough. “Magnus,” said Imasu, and he sounded truly angry. Magnus wondered how many times when Magnus had thought they were simply arguing, Imasu had been leading up to this moment of parting. “This is exactly what I was talking about! “You’re quite wrong, you know. I am the most permanent person that you will ever meet,” said Magnus, his voice breathless with laughter and his eyes stung a little by tears. “It is only that it never makes any difference.”

The Bane Chronicles Story 1: What Really Happened in Peru (1890)

If you think about it, this scene is even more heartbreaking that the break up with Camille (I discussed it in my first meta). With Camille, Magnus knew in his heart that their relationship wasn’t something that would last, and he knew things weren’t going well. Of course he’s sad that such an important relationship is over, and it scars him deeply, however, HE decided it was better to end it, to move on and to build himself up again. With Imasu, he didn’t see it coming: for him everything was perfect. Imasu decided to end their love and not for a serious issue or incompatibility: what Magnus understands is that he’s “too much too handle”. People don’t love him, even if he gives his best, he puts all the effort he can, 100%. It’s still not enough.

So, as time passes, he stops searching for love, accepting that perhaps, his fate is to be alone.

It was true. The night when Magnus had met Alec, he had just wanted to throw a party, have some fun, act the part of a warlock filled with joie de vivre until he could feel it. He remembered how in the past, every few years, he used to feel a restless craving for love, and would start to search for the possibility of love in beautiful strangers. Somehow this time around it hadn’t happened. He had spent the eighties in a strange cloud of misery, thinking of Camille, the vampire he had loved more than a century before. He had not loved anyone, not really loved them and had them love him back, since Etta in the fifties. Etta had been dead for years and years, and had left him before she’d died. Since then there had been affairs, of course, lovers who’d let him down or whom he’d let down, faces he now barely remembered, glimpses of brightness that had flickered and gone out even as he’d approached. He hadn’t stopped wanting love. He had simply, somehow, stopped looking. He wondered if you could be exhausted without knowing it, if hope could be lost not all at once but could slip away gradually, day by day, and vanish before you ever realized.

The Bane Chronicles Story 8: What to Buy the Shadowhunter Who Has Everything (And Who You’re Not Officially Dating Anyway)

2. By hurting people before they hurt them.

Jace is sharp with words, even cold. He uses this as a weapon to push everyone away. Like this, he won’t need to suffer when the same people will decide to leave him.

“You invited him into bed?” Simon demanded, looking shaken. “Ridiculous, isn’t it?” said Jace. “We would never have all fit.” “I didn’t invite him into bed,” Clary snapped. “We were just kissing.” “Just kissing?” Jace’s tone mocked her with its false hurt. “How swiftly you dismiss our love.” “Jace…” She saw the bright malice in his eyes and trailed off. There was no point. Her stomach felt suddenly heavy. “Simon, it’s late,” she said tiredly. “I’m sorry we woke you up.” “So am I.” He stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Jace’s smile was as bland as buttered toast. “Go on, go after him. Pat his head and tell him he’s still your super special little guy. Isn’t that what you want to do?” “Stop it,” she said. “Stop being like that.” His smile widened. “Like what?” “If you’re angry, just say it. Don’t act like nothing ever touches you. It’s like you never feel anything at all.

City of Bones Chapter 17: The Midnight Flower

Magnus pushed away Alec because he was scared. He didn’t want Alec to find out about his past: fearing he wouldn’t accept him as a whole, an immortal warlock with a Prince of Hell as father, and a vulnerable, intimately vulnerable, person, he left him, knowing he would hurt too much if Alec did it first. Because one day, according to him, Alec would have left him (like everyone did), and go on with his life.

3. The mask

The trauma of the past and their closing off lead them to the creation of a double identity: one seen by everyone, that serves as a protection against the suffering and to hide their true feelings; the other is the buried intimate identity, the “real” one, the honest one, that surfaces when the first one cracks or the people they love manage to make them feel safe enough to toss it away. Being the cold and powerful Shadowhunter, or the High Warlock of Brooklyn who throws parties to his cats is easier than to be Jace Herondale Wayland Lightwood, loved by good people he (according to him) doesn’t deserve; or Magnus Bane, the lover, who needs love and acceptance like the air he breathes.     The Lightwoods and Clary immediately saw the “real” Jace and love him for that. They accepted his mask too, seeing it as a sort of protection, because after so many years it became part of him.     Magnus’s glitter and parties are part of him as well, sure, but they started to manifest as tools of protection: showing his extravagant tastes in fashion is crucial to state, in an indirect way, that he’s different than the others; throwing parties is a way to meet new people and have fun through excuses, while telling everyone, at the same time, that his cats are more important than them because they love him for who he is, a good person, warlock or not.     Understanding who Magnus is, is very difficult at first. In season 1, during episode 12 (“Malec”) Alec lists and attacks every aspect of Magnus’s mask and protective identity (the first one I mentioned). Magnus’s reaction is heartbreaking. He hears what he knows well: that what he lives, sometimes, is a lie and that no lover will ever see past that, accepting who he is. Harry’s acting is extraordinary.

Shadowhunters Season 1 - Episode 12 “Malec”

What is sad about this scene is that, probably, Magnus feels like Alec is right: he’s not worthy of Alec’s love, nor of the fact that Alec could lose everything to be with him. So at first, he lets him go.

4. Help and sacrifice

What they can’t hide is their good nature: both Jace and Magnus are always ready to help those who need their assistance. It’s true, sometimes they complain about it (Magnus’s mentions of a reward or payment) but in the end they always help. That is because they know how it feels like to be alone, without any help from anyone in the world. And they don’t want people to experience that kind of loneliness and helplessness.

Shadowhunters Season 2 - Episode 02 “A Door Into the Dark”

This aspect of their personality is not all positive. There’s a negative side of it: the urge of sacrifice. This may be more dominant in Jace than in Magnus; however, both, to some extent, are always in the front line, ready to give up their lives to save everyone else’s. They think their loved ones are more important than them, thus they’re willing to sacrifice their happiness (Magnus leaving Alec so the latter can find someone “easier” to love) or even their lives (Jace rushing in battle, ready to die to save everyone). They even think that their loved ones will manage to continue their lives without them, as if nothing has happened, as if they’re not as much as important to them as they are for themselves.

5. Love

Their love experience is both similar and different.     Both Clary and Alec bring out the best of Jace and Magnus, respectively: love, affection, strength, generosity. That is because, after a while, they started to “see” the real Jace and Magnus, to know their flaws and qualities, their beauty and their fears. Both Jace and Magnus, at the end of “City of Heavenly Fire” (the sixth book of “The Mortal Instruments”), managed to finally accept that someone truly loves them, no matter their past, their vulnerability and masks (in the show, of course, it’s still an on going process).     When they meet Clary and Alec, both of them weren’t expecting to fall in love, even less to find their true love. Both of them were scared of the strength of their feelings and they tried to push the other person away (Jace had many secrets and sometimes lied about his love, while we know about Magnus’s and Alec’s break up). However, they managed, in the end, to accept love and to finally live their relationships in peace, happily and at full.

Shadowhunters Season 2 - Episode 08 “Love is the Devil”

As it shows pretty clearly in the gifs above, Magnus needs some reassurance sometimes (like in episode 07, season 2), because he still doesn’t believe someone can love him at full.

    Although I could argue that the process and outcome of their relationships are the same, there are surely some differences.     First, Jace never seemed really interested in falling in love. We don’t know much about his experiences, but he probably had some (physical?) affairs. He never asked himself about true love, or if he wanted to find his destined one. Magnus, on the other hand, was very interested and at first his purpose was to find the right person. His experience is extensive and he had some important relationships (the one with Camille being the most relevant one). Maybe this difference is depicted by their diverse personalities. Maybe it’s another consequence of their situations: Magnus felt the need to experience strong, positive emotions (to balance all the negative ones he endured), because he had to, being a warlock. He can’t have the luxury to avoid powerful feelings, or he would start to lose his mind and petrify, like some very old warlocks, who lost the ability to feel anything. Of course, among all the emotions he could experience, he choose love, because it is the one he craves the most, the one he probably almost felt before his parents found out his warlock marks, the one that makes him the happiest and that he didn’t manage to grasp for long.     Jace has no such a problem, hence he continue down his “closed off” path: he has the Lightwoods, he doesn’t need anyone else.     Second, the consequences of accepting Clary and Alec are different. Jace had already a family; with Clary he gained a new friend (Simon in “City of Fallen Angels”, fourth book of “The Mortal Instruments”) and a new ally (Luke, as Clary’s stepfather). He managed to reinforce his relationship with the Lightwoods and, at the same time, to discover what really happened in his past. He uncovers the Herondales (his real parents) and he understands what started it all. Clary brings clearness and manages to shade light onto his dark and obscure fragments of life, almost like putting a puzzle back together.     Magnus had no family (again, with the exception of Ragnor and Catarina; Ragnor, however, dies, while Catarina was away); with Alec he gained siblings (Isabelle is very sister-like with him) and a group of people he can trust.

“I sent them back to your world,” said Asmodeus. “Now you know.” He examined his nails. Clary was panting, half with panic, half with rage. “How dare you—” “Well, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” said Asmodeus. “There, you got the first two for free. The rest, well, it’ll cost you.” He sighed at the looks on the faces around him. “I’m a demon,” he said pointedly. “Really, what do they teach Nephilim these days?” “I know what you want,” Magnus said in a strained voice. “And you can have it. But you must swear on the Morning Star to send all my friends back to Idris, all of them, and never to bother them again. They will owe you nothing.” Alec stepped forward. “Stop,” he said. “No—Magnus, what do you mean, what he wants? Why are you talking like you’re not coming back to Idris with us?” “There is a time,” said Asmodeus, “when we must all return to live in the houses of our fathers. Now is Magnus’s time.” “‘In my father’s house are many mansions,’” Jace whispered; he looked very pale, and as if he might throw up. “Magnus. He can’t mean—he doesn’t want to take you back with him? Back to— “To Hell? Not precisely,” Asmodeus said. “As Magnus said, Edom is my realm. I shared it with Lilith. Then her brat took it over and laid waste to the grounds, destroyed my keep—it’s in slivers out there. And you murdered half the populace with the skeptron.” The last was addressed to Jace, rather petulantly. “It takes great energy to fuel a realm. We draw from the power of what we have left behind, the great city of Pandemonium, the fire we fell into, but there is a time when life must fuel us. And immortal life is the best of all.” The numb heaviness weighing Clary’s limbs vanished as she snapped to attention, moving in front of Magnus. She nearly collided with the others. They had all moved just as she had, to block the warlock from his demon father, even Simon. “You want to take his life?” Clary asked. “That’s just cruel and stupid, even if you’re a demon. How could you want to kill your own child—” Asmodeus laughed. “Delightful,” he said. “Look at them, Magnus, these children who love you and want to protect you! Who would ever have thought it! When you are buried, I will make sure they inscribe it on your tomb: Magnus Bane, beloved of Nephilim.”

City of Heavenly Fire Chapter 23: Judas Kiss

Alec is the key to destroy the walls he built around his heart and the insecurities he hides in his heart. He’s not “too much” to handle for Alec. He finally accepts his past and demonic side (mainly his father’s identity) so he can be with Alec; at the same time he reached his objective: he found his true love and he is surrounded by people who care for him for who he is. Alec brings passion, balance and stability in his life by creating a bright future together.

6. Differences

These similarities between how they feel and behave when confronted with sad, and more in general, negative feelings, show how Magnus and Jace can understand each other. This, however, doesn’t mean they’re the same. They are two very distinct characters, with specific personalities, who happen to react in a very similar way when something or someone hurt them.     When you meet Magnus Bane, you either like him or hate him. You recognize he’s very powerful, but there’s no grey zone with him: either you’re charmed by his shiny persona, or you don’t like his powerful presence. Magnus is in plain sight, he’s not hidden: you know how to find him, you know you to get his help. The more you know him, the more you understand his personality: he’s a good and wise person, shaped by his hurtful past, who can give you advice and be a rock in your life.     When you meet Jace, you’re fascinated by his beauty. He’s this angel brought to Earth, with his blond hair and delicate features. The second time, you either want to smash something onto his head (like most of the people he meets) or you see beneath the mask, and you start loving him. Jace is not in plain sight: he’s fleeting, difficult to be with and it’s almost impossible to have an important conversation with him, because he would be scared of being pushed away.     What I want to say is that they’re very different people if you look at how they behave and how they interact with people in general. However, in their moment of suffering they’re really similar: they share the same experiences and they have the same walls around their hearts.

I might write another “research” meta on their relationship if anyone is interested, as well as Magnus’s connection with the other “Mortal Instruments” characters!

[romancatholicreflections]

1st February >> Fr. Martin’s Reflection on Today’s Gospel Reading (Luke 6:32-38) on the Feast of Saint Brigid (Ireland) & Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time (Mark 6:1-6) (Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada & South Africa)

Feast of Saint Brigid (Ireland) Gospel (Ireland) Luke 6:32-38Be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate.Ps 106 (107):35-38, 41-42. R/. v. 1 Jesus said to his disciples: ‘If you love those who love you, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what thanks can you expect? For even sinners do that much. And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. ‘Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.’ Reflections (3) (i) Feast of Saint Brigid Saint Brigid is the secondary patron of Ireland, after Saint Patrick. She was born around 454. When she was young her father wished to make a suitable marriage for her but she insisted that she wanted to consecrate herself to God. She received the veil and spiritual formation probably from Saint Mel and she stayed for a while under his direction in Ardagh. Others followed her example and this led to her founding a double monastery in Kildare, with a section for men and a section for women. Through Brigid’s reputation as a spiritual teacher, the monastery became a centre of pilgrimage. She died in 524 and she is venerated not only throughout Ireland but in several European lands. She was renowned for her hospitality, almsgiving and care of the sick. The gospel reading is very suited for her feast because it calls on us to be generous not only to those who are generous to us but even to our enemies. Jesus declares in that gospel reading, ‘Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap’. Jesus is saying there that if our focus is on giving, then we will discover that we receive more than we give. It could be said to the contrary that if our focus is on receiving then we will be ultimately disappointed. It is not the case that we give with a view to receiving. It is simply that we give in various ways, in accordance with our gifts, abilities and energies, and we discover along the way that we are actually receiving more than we are giving. The most extreme form of giving, according to the gospel reading, is to love those who do not love us and to give to those from whom we have no hope of receiving anything in return. This kind of giving has a divine quality and it opens up our hearts to receiving a great abundance from the Lord. And/Or (ii) Feast of Saint Brigid Saint Brigid was born around 454. When she was young, her father wished to make a very suitable marriage for her, but she insisted on devoting her life completely to God. She received the veil and spiritual formation probably from Saint Mel and stayed for a period under his direction in Ardagh. Others followed her example and this led her to found a double monastery in Kildare with the assistance of Bishop Conleth. She died in 524 and her cult is widespread not only throughout Ireland but in several European lands. As well as being a person of deep prayer, she was renowned for her hospitality, her almsgiving and her care of the sick. That is why the church has chosen the reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans as an option for her feast day. The reading concludes by calling on us to ‘contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers’. Brigid did both. She served the members of the church, the saints, and she also showed hospitality to strangers, those who were not part of the church. In the language of that first reading, she discovered her gift, the particular grace given to her, and she placed that gift at the service of others. We have all been given some particular grace; our gifts will differ according to the grace that has been given to us. Our calling is to try and discern our own particular gifts, the unique way that the Holy Spirit has graced us, and to place those gifts at the service of the Lord, and of others, both those who are part of the church, the ‘saints’ and those who are not, ‘strangers’. And/Or (iii) Feast of Saint Brigid We know very little about the life of Brigid. She was probably born around the middle of the fifth century and died at the beginning of the sixth century. At a young age she seems to have devoted her life completely to God. She founded a monastery of Kildare which contributed to the spread of Christianity in Ireland. The stories that have come down about her in her various Lives depict her as a woman of deep prayer and as someone whose life was characterized by great generosity and deep compassion, especially for the needy and the broken. In this morning’s first reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans, Paul mentions various gifts that can be expected to be found among the members of Christ’s body. Two in particular seem to fit the profile of Bridgid as it has come down to us in the literature about her, ‘let the almsgivers give freely… and those who do the works of mercy do them cheerfully’. It seems that Brigid gave alms freely and did many works of mercy cheerfully. That lovely reading concludes with ‘if any of the saints are in need you mist share with them, and you should make hospitality your special care’. Again Brigid shared with those in need and had a reputation for a very hospitable spirit. He cult extended beyond the shores of this island. I was only reading recently that in England there were at least nineteen ancient church dedications in her honour, the most famous being Saint Bride’s in Fleet Street. It is clear that her great love of the Lord which was nourished by a life of prayer found expression in a very practical love of others, especially of those in any need. She can continue to inspire us to live the gospel to the full and to find joy in doing so. —————– Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time Gospel (Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada & South Africa) Mark 6:1-6 Jesus went to his home town and his disciples accompanied him. With the coming of the sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue and most of them were astonished when they heard him. They said, ‘Where did the man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been granted him, and these miracles that are worked through him? This is the carpenter, surely, the son of Mary, the brother of James and Joset and Jude and Simon? His sisters, too, are they not here with us?’ And they would not accept him. And Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house’; and he could work no miracle there, though he cured a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith. Gospel (USA) Mark 6:1-6 A prophet is not without honor except in his native place. Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith. Reflections (2) (i) Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time The people of Nazareth were slow to recognize the implications of the great wisdom Jesus possessed and the power for good that was at work through him on behalf of the sick and suffering. They should have concluded from all of this that God must be working through this man in a special way. Instead, they would not accept him; in the words of Jesus, they despised him. He was too familiar to them; they knew his mother and his family. He was one of their own; he was too ordinary. He could not possibly be all that different to everyone else in Nazareth. It is a clear case of familiarity breeding contempt. The reading suggests that we can sometimes be slow to recognize the presence of God in the ordinary and the familiar. We don’t have to go long distances, or encounter extraordinary phenomena, to make contact with the wisdom and the power of God. The Lord’s presence is all around us in the near and the familiar, in the humdrum and in the ordinary, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear. The gospel reading invites us to see the familiar and the ordinary with new eyes. The failure of the people of Nazareth to see in this way inhibited what Jesus could do among them. Our seeing in this way gives the Lord space to work among us in new ways. The gospel reading also suggests that our failure to see in this deeper way inhibits the Lord from working among us and through us, ‘he could work no miracle there’. And/Or (ii) Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year In this morning’s gospel reading the people of Nazareth took offense at the fact that one of their own, someone whose family they knew well, someone whom they had known as a carpenter, was now displaying great wisdom in the words he spoke and great power in his deeds on behalf of others. ‘What is this wisdom that has been granted to him, and these miracles that are worked through him?’ They took offense, it seems, not at his actual wisdom and power, but at the fact that one of their own was displaying such wisdom and power. It was as if Jesus was too ordinary, too much like themselves, to be taken seriously. They were coming up against the scandal of the incarnation, the Word who was God became flesh as all of us are flesh. God chose to come to us in and through someone who was like us in all things, except sin. When Jesus went on to speak about God, he often pointed to the ordinary, to the familiar, to the normal – a farmer sowing seed, a man on a journey from Jerusalem to Jericho, a rebellious son in a family, a widow looking for justice from a judge. The life and teaching of Jesus shows us that God speaks to us in and through the ordinary events of life. What we need are the eyes to see and the ears to hear the extraordinary in the ordinary, the divine in the human. Fr Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, Ireland. Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ieJoin us via our webcam. Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC. Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf. Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

1st February >> Fr. Martin's Reflection on Today's Gospel Reading (Luke 6:32-38) on the Feast of Saint Brigid (Ireland) & Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time (Mark 6:1-6)   (Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada & South Africa)

Feast of Saint Brigid (Ireland)

Gospel (Ireland)

Luke 6:32-38Be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate.Ps 106 (107):35-38, 41-42. R/. v. 1

Jesus said to his disciples:    ‘If you love those who love you, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what thanks can you expect? For even sinners do that much. And if you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what thanks can you expect? Even sinners lend to sinners to get back the same amount. Instead, love your enemies and do good, and lend without any hope of return. You will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.    ‘Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate. Do not judge, and you will not be judged yourselves; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned yourselves; grant pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap; because the amount you measure out is the amount you will be given back.’

Reflections (3)

(i) Feast of Saint Brigid

Saint Brigid is the secondary patron of Ireland, after Saint Patrick. She was born around 454. When she was young her father wished to make a suitable marriage for her but she insisted that she wanted to consecrate herself to God. She received the veil and spiritual formation probably from Saint Mel and she stayed for a while under his direction in Ardagh. Others followed her example and this led to her founding a double monastery in Kildare, with a section for men and a section for women. Through Brigid’s reputation as a spiritual teacher, the monastery became a centre of pilgrimage. She died in 524 and she is venerated not only throughout Ireland but in several European lands. She was renowned for her hospitality, almsgiving and care of the sick. The gospel reading is very suited for her feast because it calls on us to be generous not only to those who are generous to us but even to our enemies. Jesus declares in that gospel reading, ‘Give, and there will be gifts for you: a full measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over, will be poured into your lap’. Jesus is saying there that if our focus is on giving, then we will discover that we receive more than we give. It could be said to the contrary that if our focus is on receiving then we will be ultimately disappointed. It is not the case that we give with a view to receiving. It is simply that we give in various ways, in accordance with our gifts, abilities and energies, and we discover along the way that we are actually receiving more than we are giving. The most extreme form of giving, according to the gospel reading, is to love those who do not love us and to give to those from whom we have no hope of receiving anything in return. This kind of giving has a divine quality and it opens up our hearts to receiving a great abundance from the Lord.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of Saint Brigid

Saint Brigid was born around 454. When she was young, her father wished to make a very suitable marriage for her, but she insisted on devoting her life completely to God. She received the veil and spiritual formation probably from Saint Mel and stayed for a period under his direction in Ardagh. Others followed her example and this led her to found a double monastery in Kildare with the assistance of Bishop Conleth. She died in 524 and her cult is widespread not only throughout Ireland but in several European lands. As well as being a person of deep prayer, she was renowned for her hospitality, her almsgiving and her care of the sick. That is why the church has chosen the reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans as an option for her feast day. The reading concludes by calling on us to ‘contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers’. Brigid did both. She served the members of the church, the saints, and she also showed hospitality to strangers, those who were not part of the church. In the language of that first reading, she discovered her gift, the particular grace given to her, and she placed that gift at the service of others. We have all been given some particular grace; our gifts will differ according to the grace that has been given to us. Our calling is to try and discern our own particular gifts, the unique way that the Holy Spirit has graced us, and to place those gifts at the service of the Lord, and of others, both those who are part of the church, the ‘saints’ and those who are not, ‘strangers’.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of Saint Brigid

We know very little about the life of Brigid. She was probably born around the middle of the fifth century and died at the beginning of the sixth century. At a young age she seems to have devoted her life completely to God. She founded a monastery of Kildare which contributed to the spread of Christianity in Ireland. The stories that have come down about her in her various Lives depict her as a woman of deep prayer and as someone whose life was characterized by great generosity and deep compassion, especially for the needy and the broken. In this morning’s first reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans, Paul mentions various gifts that can be expected to be found among the members of Christ’s body. Two in particular seem to fit the profile of Bridgid as it has come down to us in the literature about her, ‘let the almsgivers give freely... and those who do the works of mercy do them cheerfully’. It seems that Brigid gave alms freely and did many works of mercy cheerfully. That lovely reading concludes with ‘if any of the saints are in need you mist share with them, and you should make hospitality your special care’. Again Brigid shared with those in need and had a reputation for a very hospitable spirit. He cult extended beyond the shores of this island. I was only reading recently that in England there were at least nineteen ancient church dedications in her honour, the most famous being Saint Bride’s in Fleet Street. It is clear that her great love of the Lord which was nourished by a life of prayer found expression in a very practical love of others, especially of those in any need. She can continue to inspire us to live the gospel to the full and to find joy in doing so.

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

Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Europe, New Zealand, Australia, Canada & South Africa)

Mark 6:1-6

Jesus went to his home town and his disciples accompanied him. With the coming of the sabbath he began teaching in the synagogue and most of them were astonished when they heard him. They said, ‘Where did the man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been granted him, and these miracles that are worked through him? This is the carpenter, surely, the son of Mary, the brother of James and Joset and Jude and Simon? His sisters, too, are they not here with us?’ And they would not accept him. And Jesus said to them, ‘A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house’; and he could work no miracle there, though he cured a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.

Gospel (USA)

Mark 6:1-6

A prophet is not without honor except in his native place.

Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there, apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them. He was amazed at their lack of faith.

Reflections (2)

(i) Wednesday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

The people of Nazareth were slow to recognize the implications of the great wisdom Jesus possessed and the power for good that was at work through him on behalf of the sick and suffering. They should have concluded from all of this that God must be working through this man in a special way. Instead, they would not accept him; in the words of Jesus, they despised him. He was too familiar to them; they knew his mother and his family. He was one of their own; he was too ordinary. He could not possibly be all that different to everyone else in Nazareth. It is a clear case of familiarity breeding contempt. The reading suggests that we can sometimes be slow to recognize the presence of God in the ordinary and the familiar. We don’t have to go long distances, or encounter extraordinary phenomena, to make contact with the wisdom and the power of God. The Lord’s presence is all around us in the near and the familiar, in the humdrum and in the ordinary, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear. The gospel reading invites us to see the familiar and the ordinary with new eyes. The failure of the people of Nazareth to see in this way inhibited what Jesus could do among them. Our seeing in this way gives the Lord space to work among us in new ways. The gospel reading also suggests that our failure to see in this deeper way inhibits the Lord from working among us and through us, ‘he could work no miracle there’.

And/Or

(ii) Wednesday, Fourth Week of the Year

In this morning’s gospel reading the people of Nazareth took offense at the fact that one of their own, someone whose family they knew well, someone whom they had known as a carpenter, was now displaying great wisdom in the words he spoke and great power in his deeds on behalf of others. ‘What is this wisdom that has been granted to him, and these miracles that are worked through him?’ They took offense, it seems, not at his actual wisdom and power, but at the fact that one of their own was displaying such wisdom and power. It was as if Jesus was too ordinary, too much like themselves, to be taken seriously. They were coming up against the scandal of the incarnation, the Word who was God became flesh as all of us are flesh. God chose to come to us in and through someone who was like us in all things, except sin. When Jesus went on to speak about God, he often pointed to the ordinary, to the familiar, to the normal – a farmer sowing seed, a man on a journey from Jerusalem to Jericho, a rebellious son in a family, a widow looking for justice from a judge. The life and teaching of Jesus shows us that God speaks to us in and through the ordinary events of life. What we need are the eyes to see and the ears to hear the extraordinary in the ordinary, the divine in the human.

Fr Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, Ireland.

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ieJoin us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf.

Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.