#this is bishop's vision i am simply bringing it to life

[dreadgrace-a]

For your consideration; the Dead Three:

Bane.

Bhaal.

Myrkul.

[cmcsmen]

The Story Behind Catholic Men Chicago Southland

By Frank J Casella, CMCS Co-founder & Executive Director

(For those new to CMCS or you need to read this again)

“Catholic Men Chicago Southland is an apostolate of Reverend Bishop Joseph N Perry, and works to encourage and support contemporary Catholic Men to grow spiritually, and to bring Jesus Christ into their daily lives and all of their relationships.” 

— The CMCS Mission

That was the mission we started with in 2004 when Deacon John Rangel, David Taylor (who no longer lives in the Archdiocese), and I went to Bishop Joseph N Perry with our vision, and hope for his blessing. His Excellency is now retired, but it’s still our mission today. We went to Bishop Perry because he was our local Vicar (as one) of the six Vicariates (divisions) of the Archdiocese of Chicago.

We could have tried to do this on our own, but I learned from my previous experiences, both with the  Catholic Men In Action that I was a territory rep for (and is no longer a ministry), and from my photography work for the archdiocese and documenting the ministry of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin, that you need to have a  platform to work from.

Bishop Perry not only understood this, he also was interested is providing a challenge to men in the Vicariate to live the  Virtues of a Catholic Man and make Christ the center of our daily lives. So it has been proven many times over the years that Bishop Perry’s belief in CMCS, and nurturing Catholic men’s spirituality, has opened more doors — and hearts — than we could ever do on our own. And this I am personally grateful for!

I’m glad that we also followed his advice to stay a manageable size in the Vicariate, instead of trying to reach the whole archdiocese, since each Vicariate is about the size of the average diocese in the American Church. That if a group of men wanted to start a movement in another vicariate, we’d provide their Vicar with the template for doing this. So far there has been much interest, but only one commitment in the Edgewater area of Chicago. 

The Back Story

You might say that Catholic men’s ministry is second nature to me, having been raised as a third-generation Knights of Columbus. I recall vividly helping my late father as a kid with all the functions, causes, parties, and parades. From going to talk to the butcher, to table set up, promotion and ticket sales, serving the participants, clean up, and finally awarding the results to a charity, which CMCS does today. Event planning is my conditioned skill.

But there was something missing in all of this. I saw this void. A need for a Catholic men’s prayer breakfast, to challenge men to replace bad habits with good habits and to develop a holy life. To  feed the stomach, and then feed the Soul.

As far back as the 1980’s I recall men’s conferences starting to trickle into the fabric of our faith life. And this is where I met Deacon John Rangel, who has a passion for parish men’s groups and Pro-Life. We went to many of these events, from many faiths. Some called for men to be accountable to each other, and others had an Altar Call, or to be Born Again. And most of the Catholic men’s conferences had a great message but fell short of making that challenge or commitment to holiness and simply living the fundamentals of the faith. Something I think we easily take for granted. 

We need Catholic and holy men in our lives, who practice virtues and goodness, make a positive difference, and that we can look to as models of a life work in progress.

“We are a people of possibility, the Holy Spirit is the great encourager … holiness is possible. ~ Matthew Kelly

In Covenant With Jesus

It is true, Jesus Christ wants to have a personal relationship with each of us as our Savior and Lord. But Jesus wants much more than that; he wants us in covenant with himself. I can have a personal relationship with the neighbor down the street; but that doesn’t mean he wants me to move in and share his home.

Jesus Christ wants us in the New Covenant that he established through his own flesh and blood, the same covenant he renews through the Holy Eucharist. When his sacrifice for us is renewed at the altar, we gather at the family table for the sacred meal that makes us one.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and  eat with him and he with me.” (Rev 3:20)

Likewise, in the home, us men are called to lay down our life for our wife. To serve her as Jesus served her. To love and sacrifice for her the way Jesus loved and sacrificed for you.

The Christian home is the place where children receive the first proclamation of the faith. For this reason the family home is rightly called “the domestic church,” a community of grace and prayer, a school of human virtues and of Christian charity. Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 1666

But remember Christ’s words to Saint Paul that  “power is made perfect in weakness.” That is, most men will admit that their strength, their rock is their wives.

Jesus wants us to know not only the Father and the Holy Spirit but his Blessed Mother and all His sainted brothers and sisters as well. He also wants us to live according to the family structure he established for his Church on earth: the Pope and all the bishops and priests united to him.

The Gospel is not about setting up a legal system, but about transforming hearts. It is about freeing people, one at a time, from the darkness and slavery of sin.

Presenting The Challenge

I remember when the late Cardinal Francis George, archbishop of Chicago, said one of his many profound words in the public square, when he said that  “we as a Catholic Church have much to learn from our Protestant brothers and sisters about marketing and promotion, and evangelization. “

This was my answer. So around 2009 we began an online ministry to reach Catholic men in any way possible, and learn from those who are good at it.  Though Bishop Perry reminded the need to balance that with the community ‘in the pews’. Community is the foundation of our Catholicism.

So in the era of TV Evangelists, Internet Churches, and Social Media Ministry, CMCS sets the tone in Chicago Southland for nurturing Catholic men’s spirituality, and presenting men the challenge for holiness, in Covenant with Jesus. And we do this in-person, through our gatherings, where men can discuss and connect the dots with each other about their spiritual journey. And we have Mass with bishop who presents the challenge to the men.

The men will tell you how the personal impact from this is profound in a way that can not be experienced online. Then, what we do online is a symptom of what is working with community ‘in the pews’, to continue their spiritual journey. We are all a work in progress, and learn from each other.

It’s not so much about accountability to each other, but Covenant with Jesus that transforms us as men.

I have seen over the years that when you foster a Man in holiness, the positive adjustments he makes creates a upstanding man, husband, or father, and this impact can be felt for three generations. What this takes is (for us) to transform one man at a time from good intentions into right-action, and thus to develop a holy church.

For just as the Church cannot survive without the sacramental priesthood, so too, the father is an essential element of a healthy family. Fathers have a significant spiritual impact on their (and men with all) children precisely because of their unique role in the order of creation.

[vickorydickorydock]

TMNT 2003 Fic Rec

A list of some of my favorite fics and writers, in no particular order. Yes, I am aware my favoritism is showing. 

Double Vision - Princess Tyler Briefs -  Leo likes to think he understands his family, but some things simply don’t make sense, even to him.

In Another’s Shoes - Splinter -  Mike's the leader? Raph's the engineer? Don's the rebel? Leo's the goof off? What was Splinter thinking? He's thinking he needs some comic relief at his sons' expense. Besides, it's all in the name of learning. 

Maybe Just the End - nightwalker3 -  It's Donatello and Leonardo trapped in an elevator at the end of the world. Or maybe just the end of New York; it's hard to tell with the lights out.

Desperate Measures - Superkat -  Donatello spoke angrily under two circumstances: major setbacks to his projects or prolonged periods of intense work without rest. They were guessing the latter this time...

Encounters - hummerhouse -  You can't live in a city of over 8 million people without interacting with a few of them.

And Call Me in the Morning - slipstream - It’s not like Don is doing this for fun, he reminds himself as the olive-skinned turtle makes up four fresh syringes and starts measuring out doses. He’s his doctor and his brother, he only has Mikey’s best interest at—He blinks, eyes suddenly fixed on the band of cloth fixed tight to Don’s upper thigh. “Dude, what’s wrong with your leg?”

Question - Meg720 -  Don's obsessed.

Genius At Work - nightwalker3 -  Donnie's the smart one, but sometimes he misses the obvious.

Without Wings - Princess Tyler Briefs -  If you asked him later, or even if you’d had a chance at the time, Donatello would have been unable to tell you what he was thinking. Pre-Exodus.

Turtles Gone Wild! - Ryan Phelan -  Bishop deploys a hidden camera in the lair to spy on the turtles, and gets a lot more than he bargained for!

The Rebellion of 3024 - Kay the Cricketed -  It's just another day with Mikey, his action figures, and an epic battle on the field of his bedroom floor. Except... usually Leo isn't there.

What Dreams May Come - Princess Tyler Briefs -  Raph confronts Don as to why he didn’t tell them what was going on when he was ill, and learns more about his younger brother than he ever wanted to. Post-Good Genes

Don’s Secret - hummerhouse -  Sharing an emotional burden usually brings relief, but sometimes it's a cause for more fear.

Problem Solving - Goblin Cat KC -  The theft of Donatello's old math books brings past hurts to light, as Donatello discovers that the thief is Leonardo.

We Are the Klunk - PlainSimpleGarak -  A look at life in the turtle's lair and an adventure gone wrong, told from the point of view of Klunk, Michelangelo's cat. Inspired by Terry Bain's novel: We Are the Cat.

EVP - HamsterMasterSamster -  In parapsychology, 'Electronic Voice Phenomena' (or EVP) is a term used to describe the voices of ghosts captured on audio recording devices.

Flicker - RenaRoo -  Donatello has been sick for a long time, much longer than he would ever admit. His family just hopes they can help him before his light flickers out.

Versatility - hummerhouse -  The Turtle's attempts to destroy a drug ring take them out of the city and into a situation they might not be ready for.

Bragging Rights - Cynlee -  Jun is going to prove he is the best Foot, even if it KILLS him. He will bring back the head of Donatello and show them all!

Dinosaurs, PTSD, and Museum Visiting Hours - nightwalker3 -  Donnie never did get to see the dinosaur display.

Waking Up - Flynne -  A 2k3 "Same as it Never Was" what-if story. Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Raphael died in the assault on the Shredder's stronghold. But what if they hadn't?

Making the Grade - Splinter -  How can young Donatello make Splinter understand that he knows just about everything? It's gonna take awhile.

Appliance - dontgiveahoot -  Who repairs the repairer? Who heals the healer? Donatello decides to press on with his workload regardless, with the aid of plenty of coffee and aspirin. After all, it can't be that bad...

The Virtues of Knocking - calliopechild -  Raph is treated to an evening of learning.

Rainy Day Friends - Goblin Cat KC -  Usagi comes to Leonardo for help as he is targeted by an unknown enemy.

Consequentialism - hummerhouse -  Agent John Bishop has acquired a new piece of alien technology. It would be a boon to his cause, if only he could get it to work right.

If you made it through this list, I encourage you to check out other things these authors have written; I’ve taken up enough scroll time already, but all of them have other great fics to peruse. If you have recommendations of your own, feel free to add to this list! Any and all 2003 fics welcome!

[bittykimmy13]

The Clandestine Queen (GT Story)

Premise: A trinket no taller than the pieces on a chessboard takes a champion player by surprise.

Another trinket short that is comparatively tamer than others, but intense in its own way ;) I binged The Queen's Gambit, and it inspired me to write a GT story involving chess. I had a lot of fun writing this one! Enjoy! :D

Warning: mentions of dehumanization The print / trinket universe belongs to me and the lovely @little-miss-maggie​ / @marydublin5​ <3

(( Read more about the print and trinket universe here! ))

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The wheels rolled smoothly along the carpet. She sat on her knees in a prim posture, her hands on her lap and her back straight. The glass walls around her were so polished, she could almost forget she was trapped. The steaming room-sized meal on the plate beside her kept her from forgetting entirely, though. With each door the waiter wheeled the cart past, she braced herself. He didn’t come to a stop until the last door on the right—room 3218. A luxury suite.

The waiter knocked. “Room service!”

Footsteps thudded on the other side. The door swung open to reveal a man with dark hair, dark clothing, and an even darker look on his face. How curious for someone to look so inconvenienced by the arrival of a gourmet meal they ordered.

“Good evening, sir,” the waiter said.

“Make it quick,” the man muttered, stepping back to allow the cart to pass through the door.

This gave her a full view of the suite. The first and only thing she noticed was the chessboard set up by the window, illuminated by a single lamp and the moonlight glowing through the panes. This man was here for the tournament. No wonder he looked so irked by the interruption.

Her eyes went glassy. Trinkets were supposed to be anonymous once they went through the facility, stripped of their past identities before they were sent out to whatever random bar, hotel, brothel, or business they were assigned. Since the beginning of the tournament that week, she had no doubt that her placement at this hotel was intentional, designed to taunt and torture her until she drew her last breath.

Tearing her eyes away from the chessboard, she looked up at the man as he spoke. She wondered if she had met him at some point, in her other life. He didn’t look familiar.

“I did not ask for a trinket,” the man said, barely looking at her. He had an accent that suggested Spanish or Portuguese as a first language. An international player.

“She’s complimentary, sir,” the waiter said. “A token of congratulations for your victories today.”

The man didn’t blink. “I don’t want her.”

“Would you like me to bring one that suits your preference?”

He sneered. “I am not interested in spending my night with a felon.”

The waiter cleared his throat. “Well, you can simply leave her in the case. Should you change your mind, your room key has a sensor to open it. Please ensure you place her back inside and shut it properly before leaving the room or setting the tray outside. Though, I can assure you our trinkets are well-behaved.”

The guests were less so. Twice now, she had been sampled by other people on the way to their rooms after she’d been sloppily left on the tray outside the door.

“Fine.” The man whisked the tray off the cart before the waiter could, setting it on the coffee table in front of a lounger. All the while, she held perfectly still and kept her eyes trained up at him, trying to figure out if she’d met him before.

“Have a lovely night, Mr. Soto,” the waiter said with a nod, pulling the cart out of the room. “And best of luck tomorrow.”

Soto. The name made her jaw clenched. Andres Soto. A 30-year-old champion from Argentina, visiting the U.S. for the first time. There was no way they could have met before, but they certainly would have crossed paths at some point, had things turned out differently.

She continued to stare at him as he grabbed the plate of food from beside her and took it over to the chess table, ignoring her entirely. Just when she thought that was the end of that, Andres returned to the tray.

Fear. She couldn’t stop it from coming, but she had long since learned what to do when it showed up. Even before she was a trinket. Imagine your spine turning to steel, Kate would tell her. And look your opponent in the eye.

She wet her lips and willed her spine to turn to steel, certain that he did intend on toying with her despite his disgust toward her. However, when his rattling steps paused in front of the coffee table, he merely reached down to grab the glass of red wine across the tray from her.

Again, he made it clear that she was beneath his notice.

“Is that a chessboard?” she blurted before he could walk away.

He turned back, his dark eyes locking on her. What a stupid thing to say. Why would she draw his attention when everything was in her favor? A night of being ignored was a blessing she could not have dreamed of, and here she was throwing it away. She could be like the poor trinkets that had been gathered downstairs in the dining hall, being used as game pieces by drunken tournament losers.

“Obvio,” Andres said simply, starting toward his board again.

“May I see?”

Another pause. Frustration mounted in his stance. He walked back to the coffee table with heavier steps. He loomed over her and stared down. She couldn’t be sure if he was purposely trying to intimidate her, or if it was a side-effect of him trying to figure her out. Chess players had a particular look about them, the way they tried to analyze the person before them. Which meant he viewed her at least somewhat like a person. Fascinating.

“I’m studying,” he growled out. Intimidation. No doubt. “I have no time to entertain you.”

“I’m not asking for entertainment,” she said. “Only to see the board.”

“You are bothersome.” He filled more of her vision as he bent down to pick up the tray. He started for the door. “Shall I toss you into the next room? Perhaps they will enjoy you more.”

“I want to play,” she informed him calmly. But on the inside, her heart felt like it was ripping to bloody pieces with each step that carried her away from the chessboard. She needed to see it.

Andres stopped in his tracks, making her waver in her seat only slightly. “You?” he asked skeptically.

“Me.” She shrugged and cocked her head at him. “Or I can help you study. You’re replaying today’s games, aren’t you? That’s what I’d be doing. I didn’t like it when they brought me trinkets, either.”

He lifted the tray higher and narrowed his eyes at her, his stare on the tipping point between intrigue and dangerous aggravation. “Who are you?”

“I’ve been told that my name is Queenie.”

He didn’t take the bait and ask for her real name. Some pathetic and silly part of her wanted to tell him herself without prompting. A talented player like him would recognize her name—for better or for worse. But she kept her mouth shut. For all she knew, he’d go on a power trip knowing he had a former chess champion at his mercy.

Setting the tray down, he swept up the case and carried it over to the chess table. He used the sensor on his room key to open the door for her. She stood slowly to accommodate the soreness of her knees, then stepped out onto the table. She admired the board with a fluttering heart, hiding a smile. It was a fancy one—the squares lit up where the pieces were put. Half the pieces were set aside, while the ones on the board were in active play.

Andres took a seat and picked at his food with a fork. “Here you see the twenty-second move from my last match this afternoon,” he told her. “I was black. It was her turn.”

Folding her hands behind her back, she strolled around the outside of the board, weaving around discarded pieces. She tried hard not to think about the fact that the king and queen were taller than her.

“You know,” she said. “There’s an app that can sync with this board. It allows you to record the moves of your previous games. It sets up the pieces for you, turn by turn.”

He scoffed. “You think I am not aware? I find that doing it the old-fashioned way is better. Keeps the mind sharp.”

“I agree.” She examined the placement of the pieces on the board and felt a tingle of familiar exhilaration, able to see different avenues of victory for Andres. He had his opponent cornered by this point. “How many moves left until you beat her?”

“Six, counting her next one.”

“Hm. You could have done it in three.”

He raised his eyebrows, more surprised by her impudence than annoyed. “Imposible,” he murmured in his mother tongue as he eyed the board to find what she meant. Then he shook his head. “I don’t see it.”

She gestured at the board. “May I?”

Waving his hand dismissively, he sat back and took a sip of wine. Against all odds, she was not garnishing a drink or plate tonight. For that moment, she was in the past—simply having a conversation with a rival, trying to outdo one another and pick each other’s brains. The illusion was lost when she had to actually climb onto the board. The squares lit up beneath her feet as she stepped on them.

“Let me guess,” she said. “She moved the bishop here?” The piece was only slightly shorter than her. Pushing it in a diagonal line, she gave Andres an expectant look.

“Good guess.”

Tapping her chin, she turned slowly to examine the slightly altered layout. In her mind’s eye, she could see the pieces moving and track the placement of each turn that created the five remaining moves leading to Andres’ victory. Without having to ask, she knew precisely what he and his opponent had done.

“May I show you how you could have put her away quicker?”

“Do it.” Andres watched in silence as she moved a black piece, then white, then black again.

“Checkmate,” she announced, planting one hand on her hip.

Andres set the wine glass down so hard, she thought it would shatter. He dropped his elbows on the table, rattling the board beneath her feet. Steepling his fingers, he scoured the board with his eyes and muttered to himself. Finally, his eyebrows quirked up again when he looked at her.

“Insightful. I will study this strategy.” He did not thank her, but then again, players rarely did under normal circumstances. She did sense a begrudging sense of gratitude lurking somewhere underneath, particularly when he spoke up again. “Let’s play.”

Not an offer. Not a suggestion. An order.

“I am yours tonight,” she told him just to see the faint disgust on his face at the reminder that he was spending the night with a felon.

Piss off your opponent when you can, Kate would say. Makes ‘em more likely to fuck up. Oh, and if you manage to stay classy while pissing 'em off? Honey, you're golden.

He gave her no time to move out of the way as he began to arrange the pieces into their starting positions. She was forced to stay in the middle of the board, lest he bump her with his quick movements. Although she tried to appear as calm as ever, there was a tightness to her mouth as his hands flew over her, fingers and chess pieces narrowly missing her head. Months ago, she arranged boards just as effortlessly. Now she needed both arms to move a single piece.

“Black or white?” she asked when he was finished.

“Your choice.” He plucked up a black and white pawn, one in each hand. His hands vanished under the table as he shuffled the two pieces out of her sight. Then he held his closed fists in front of her. She shuffled two steps back; he moved so quickly, she couldn’t be sure he would stop. “Choose,” he said when she stayed frozen for all of two seconds.

She pointed to his right hand, and he opened it to reveal the black piece. He placed it in front of her, and she slid it over to its spot.

And then the game began.

Andres made the first move, nudging a pawn from its place on the front line. The surreality of the situation almost left her breathless. It had been so long since she played, but all at once she felt herself fall back without a second thought, as if she hadn’t missed a single day. She was able to move the pieces on her own, up until she wanted to move a knight that was still nestled among the other pieces with no clear pathway out.

Just as she was considering carrying it around the outside of the board, a massive hand filled her vision. She flinched to the edge of the board and nearly fell off, staring up at Andres with wide eyes and a clenched jaw. He picked up the knight and weighed it in his hand.

“Where do you need it?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“F6,” she croaked.

The spike of fright did not derail the strategies that unfolded in her mind. The game went on. When she began taking some of his pieces, he did not hesitate to help her out, setting them aside without waiting for her to struggle or ask. He was just as focused as her, eager to keep the game flowing—all the more so as the game entered its thirtieth move.

She paced up and down the edge of the board, rubbing the back of her neck thoughtfully. He was good. But she knew she was better. The problem was a stark disadvantage with her size.

“I need to see the whole board,” she realized aloud. “It’s frustrating to gauge it like this.”

Laser-focused on her plight, she didn’t see Andres’ hand coming. In the forty-five minutes they had been playing, she had gotten used to him plucking up pieces and avoiding her. A fresh thrill of fear closed around her heart as his fingers pinched her waist and swept her up. She gave a choked cry, her hands digging into the sides of his fingers as her legs dangled over empty air. She was perfectly accustomed to being held like this, but amid the game, she had forgotten the reality of her life.

“You said you wanted to see the board,” he said to her reaction, and she was surprised to hear the slightest note of apology.

She looked across at his face, the way his eyebrows were furrowed in faint concern. Wetting her lips, she swallowed hard and focused down at the board. Her breathing calmed as her world began to make sense again. She could see several pathways to victory for both of them—which meant she knew exactly how to thwart him.

“Thank you,” she said when she was done, squirming slightly in his pinched grip. He put her back down with more care than he did the pieces.

Three moves later, doubt began to creep in. Not doubt that she could beat him—doubt if she should. He was a champion. She used to be. Now she was nothing but a trinket—even less important than a pawn on a chessboard. Even if she was superior in commanding the game, he held all the power over her the moment it was over.

If he was a sore loser, he could quite literally kill her.

Pursing her lips, she analyzed the board and spotted a trap he was obviously setting up for her by using his last rook and bishop. A lesser player would fall for it easily. She took the bait, pretending to be sure of herself.

“Check,” he said upon his next move.

She moved her queen, protecting her king while sealing her doom. “Right back at you.”

A little smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He took out her queen. “And that’s checkmate.”

Sighing, she tipped her king over with both hands. It clattered and rolled a short distance. “Guess I’m out of practice,” she said.

His accursed hand moved for her again, and for a second, she thought she had thrown the game for nothing. He was going to torment her anyway. A part of her was royally ticked off—she should have let herself beat his ass if things were going to end up like this anyway. But his hand stopped just short of her, finger extended.

“Good game,” he said. “Tough game.”

She released her caught breath, looking from his finger to his face and back again. She pressed her hand to his fingertip. “Tough game,” she agreed.

“It went on longer than any of the others I played this week.” He examined her once again. It was more overwhelming when he looked at her with a multitude of things other than disgust and detached interest. “Chess is clearly close to your heart. A shame this happened to you.” He gestured vaguely at her miniature stature.

She shrugged. “Chess saved my life. And then ended it.”

He nodded as if he had any clue what she meant by that. In a way, she supposed all serious players at least understood the first half.

Andres’ hands flew around her again as he began picking up pieces and setting them back into their starting positions. “Again?” he asked. And this time it was undoubtedly an offer.

She eyed the squares on the board, the white team forming in front of her in a whirlwind. There would never be another opportunity like this again. Despite all odds, she had returned to her haven of sixty-four squares. A distraction from the real world, just for tonight.

“Again,” she said, smiling for the first time at him.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

The next night, she couldn’t decide if she was surprised to be requested back in the same room. She did not allow herself to win the night before. It was enough just to come close and know she could decimate Andres’ strategies if she wanted to. Perhaps he wanted another night of analyzing his games of the day.

One night of bliss was lucky. Two was unheard of.

Andres wasn’t any friendlier with the waiter tonight, and strangely, the moment the door shut, his hardened expression didn’t become any less guarded with her. He set the tray down and lifted the glass case before his eyes. Maybe he always needed time to thaw out.

“Congratulations,” she said, noting the gold trophy by the window. “You should be out celebrating.”

“I’m not the celebrating kind.”

She snorted. “I never would have guessed.”

The slightest smile touched his lips—obviously involuntary. His eyes did not move from her, seeking something. “When I finished my opponents early today, it gave me the time to think. And the time to replay our games from last night. You see, something was bothering me.”

Goosebumps rose along her arms, but she said nothing and kept her expression neutral.

“Anyone who plays an entire match like that would not fall for those endgame strategies so easily. Certainly not five times in a row.” He brought her closer to his face. There was nowhere to hide. He knew. He knew everything. “You threw the games. All of them.”

She played dumb. “A smart man like you should understand why a trinket in my position would do that.”

Scoffing, he reached into his pocket to pull out his room key. He opened the case, and rather than reach inside to grab her, he tilted it and made her slide out onto his palm. She couldn’t breathe for a second, scrambling to sit up and redeem what little dignity she could. Her heart thundered like a galloping horse as he carried her over to the chess table and gruffly dropped her on the middle of the board. When he took a seat, he leaned down and propped his chin on the backs of his fingers, putting himself nearly at eye level with her.

“I studied your moves,” he went on. “I researched female players with the same playing style.”

He knew.

Shuddering, she started to back away.

“I found someone who matched,” he said. “And she vanished from the chess world four months ago.”

“Andres…”

He straightened, touching the top of the queen piece on his side with his fingertip, toying with it. “Lorelei Weaver. The night after you came in second in the U.S. Championship, you were arrested for first-degree murder.

Her voice started to rise. "You don't understand—"

"You pushed the champion, Kate Miller, in front of a subway train in New York.”

“She was my friend!” she shrieked. “You don’t know shit! I was framed!”

He cocked his head. “Sentenced to be a trinket.”

She collapsed onto her knees and covered her face, shoulders wracking with sobs. She had not cried since she was human. For a moment, she was gone. All she could hear was the roar of the train. The screaming. Her own screaming. It echoed so loudly in her ears, she was surprised she wasn’t doing it in front of Andres. He said nothing, merely observed her as she cried herself out and gathered her bearings again.

“Louis Mclean came in third,” she went on in a thin voice, dropping her hands to her knees. “I humiliated him in the semi-finals. I beat him in less than ten moves because he was cocky. Just like that, in ten moves, all of his training was shot down and meaningless.” She swallowed hard, feeling tears brim up again. “Then Kate beat me. Oh, I was pissed. But she was my friend. And Mclean wasn’t done playing.”

She sniffled, flinching when Andres’ hand appeared beside her. He touched her shoulder with his fingertip, his expression unreadable as he regarded her.

“Go on,” he said.

“One, he invited us out to eat the next night. Two, he made sure we were standing in a blind spot while we waited for the subway. Three, he pushed her. Four, he jumped back while I tried to catch her. Five, he screamed that I killed her. In half the number of moves it took me to put him away in the semi-finals, he eliminated us both. Six moves, if you count him puking when he looked down at Kate’s blood on his clothes.”

Her words hung in the air like falling snow, until it settled.

Andres did not speak for a full minute. Then he gave a slow nod. “I see.”

She wiped her eyes. “You believe me?”

“Whether I believe you makes no difference, does it? That game is over.” He folded his arms on the table in front of the board, looking down the bridge of his nose at her. “But I vowed not to leave this place until I beat every worthy competitor. It would be an honor to play you again, Lorelei Weaver. And this time, don’t you dare go easy on me.”

She stood slowly, her body and mind still deciding whether to fall apart or put itself back together. Then she straightened her back, turned her spine to steel, and looked up to meet her opponent’s eyes.

“Black or white?”

[janephillipsblog]

Happy New Year! 2019 Reflections, 2020 Resolutions

This is the time of year to reflect on everything that has happened in the past year and look forward to the new year and perhaps make some resolutions. We are also entering a new decade, which is something that I have never thought much of in the past. The 2010’s have been interesting and life changing for me that is for sure. Going back even further to the beginning of the millennium, it’s certainly been quite a journey. 1999 was the year that I took up theatre as an adult so 2019 marks the 20th year that I have been doing theatre. It has been quite a ride and the road has been long, winding, and often quite bumpy! Relationships, pets and business ventures have come and gone, whereas other aspects of my life have remained constant or improved.

In 2018, I had made a commitment to myself that whenever I had money to spare I would enroll in classes and workshops for acting or personal development. I got 2019 off to a good start by taking the Essentials of Film and TV class at Company of Rogues starting in January. That month I also volunteered as an usher for the One Yellow Rabbit High Performance Rodeo. My blog post about the festival resulted in a feature on me as a volunteer in the One Yellow Rabbit newsletter. Rehearsals also started that month for Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Princess Ida” with Morpheus Theatre. I also started as a volunteer with the Alberta Animal Rescue Crew Society (AARCS), mostly as a cat caregiver. I volunteer at the animal shelter about 2 to 3 times a month.

I turned 45 years old in February. I also took a stunt combat workshop with Adrian Young Action Services which was fantastic. I also did a story slam workshop one evening which was something a bit different as I had never done any sort of oral storytelling before. I also participated in the Dead Cold Run, a 5K run in South Glenmore Park. I am looking forward to completing the run again in 2020.

In March I joined the Calgary Society of Independent Filmmakers (CSIF). To date, I haven’t done much with my membership other than volunteer one evening, but the intention to do more with it and get involved is there! I took Bruce Horak’s creative workshop, Tendencies, which was fun and I also volunteered as an usher for the Festival of Animated Objects which was very enjoyable. I also participated in the Rogers Insurance Run for L’Arche and ran my first 5-mile race (8K), a new distance record for me. March also was the official end of my relationship with my boyfriend of the past 4 years.

Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Princess Ida” with Morpheus Theatre opened in April and ran until May for a total of 14 performances. I participated in the Onesie Run in Prince’s Island Park and also started seeing my current boyfriend during this month.

In May, “Princess Ida” finished its run.  I started getting regular IATSE 212 stage call work. The film industry was getting busy so permittees such as myself were able to get more work. I took the Bouffon Intensive Masterclass workshop this month which fulfilled its promise of pushing my boundaries and challenging me as a performer. I also participated in the Rocky Mountain Soap Company’s Fast and Female women’s run (completing the 5K distance) in Canmore. This was challenging as there were hills and Canmore is at a higher altitude. I hope to participate in it again in 2020.

In June, I ran my first 10K in the Huntington’s Run for Hope, I also started to work on the summer trains for Aspen Crossing and did a day on set as background for Tribal. I also volunteered at Horror Con selling tickets. This was also the month I started to put the wheels in motion to find employment within the film industry, submitting my application for permittee status with IATSE 212 in film.  

In July, I started a series of vocal lessons with Naomi Williams. I took the set etiquette workshop with IATSE 212, a requirement for the film permit and at the end of the month I took the production assistant workshop with the Director’s Guild of Canada, Alberta District Council. July was also a great month for stage calls with IATSE due to the Calgary Stampede. During the Stampede this year, my boyfriend and I checked out several bands on the Coca-Cola Stage - Metric, Bishop Briggs, Dear Rouge and Death Cab for Cutie - and played the midway.

At the beginning of August, I was offered a role in “Babette’s Feast” with Fire Exit Theatre, which I of course accepted. I did the performer set etiquette course offered by ACTRA and also did a couple of days as a background performer on “Ghostbusters: Afterlife”. I did a road trip with my boyfriend to Grande Prairie to see his parents, returning to Calgary via BC, staying in the fabulous Three Valley Lake Chateau for the last night. At the end of the month, I left the legal industry for good and began work as a production assistant in the locations department on a TV series called “A Teacher” which was shooting until October.

In September, I participated in the Pride Parade with ACTRA and DGC. Rehearsals started for “Babette’s Feast” and I would be playing Babette. I went to Ontario to visit my family for my Dad’s 80th birthday. My sister was also there and I hadn’t seen her for 15 years so it was a fantastic reunion.

In October, I worked on the Train of Terror as a scarer for Aspen Crossing. I also had a day on set as a background performer for “A Teacher” and towards the end of the month worked as a locations PA on a Canadian feature film called “Chasing Justice”.  I also accepted a role in “Clue: The Musical” with Dewdney Players. I also got to see Morrissey and The Interrupers live in concert this month.

In November, I took the mermaid course with Adventures in Scuba. I did a day on set as a background performer for “Winter in Vail”, a Hallmark movie. I also had a few IATSE stage calls.

Photo Credit: Jen Carty

In December, “Babette’s Feast” with Fire Exit Theatre opened at the Engineered Air Theatre in Arts Commons and ran for 7 performances. I also worked on the Polar Express for Aspen Crossing. On a personal note, I also made the last payment on my car loan.

Generally, over 2019, I formed and maintained some great habits. I was happy to have continued regular exercise and increase my running distance, however, after I stopped being a full-time office employee with access to a gym at lunch, I stopped running for a few months. It was also difficult to maintain an exercise program when working 14-hour days on set as a PA, however locations work can be physically demanding and IATSE stage calls certainly are. I discovered that I enjoy physical work much more than office work - it’s great to get paid to work out! I have recently started to run again and finding the 5K distance easy to do and looking forward to all the races that I can participate in next year.

I am happy to say that auditioning has become a habit. I auditioned a lot last year. It took 18 auditions (screen and stage) before I was offered a role in “Babette’s Feast”. The role of Babette was definitely worth persisting for, because I admit, after rejection after rejection, that negative little voice inside my head kept suggesting I give up, that being an actor is too hard. I am glad that tenacity took over and I kept on going. As far as auditioning goes, I felt very happy that I was invited to audition for Vertigo Theatre twice last year. Those experiences have made auditions in general easier and not so scary. I have three theatre auditions lined up for January 2020 already.

Writing is developing as a habit. I have been keeping a journal on and off since a teenager and I try to write in my journal every morning. I completed a short story in November, which I submitted for a competition (still waiting to hear), and am working on several scripts. I am learning to focus more and work on one project at a time - taking on too many projects has definitely been my downfall in the past and I have many incomplete ones.  

I have also seen a lot of live theatre this year. 52 shows!  I have been able to see this many shows as I volunteer as an usher as much as I can. I have learnt so much as a performer and writer from the shows that I have had the privilege of seeing this year. Here in Calgary we certainly have a vibrant scene both amateur and professional. There seems to be a great demand for it as well as many shows sell out even with long performance runs. There was only one show that I did not really enjoy (which shall remain nameless - it was more to do with the actual story than the production itself), but my ten favourite shows this year were, in no particular order, “Cafe Daughter”, Alberta Theatre Projects (part of the High Performance Rodeo), “Deathtrap” - Vertigo Theatre, “Tria Fata” - La Pendue (part of the Festival of Animated Objects), “Giant” - Ghost River Theatre (part of the Festival of Animated Objects), “Avenue Q” - Front Row Centre Players, “Boom X” - Rick Miller at Theatre Calgary, “The Invisible” - Catalyst Theatre/Vertigo Theatre, “Iceland” - Theatre Calgary, “Monster” -  Seadreamer, and “A Christmas Carol” - Theatre Calgary. “Deathtrap” was my overall favourite for total entertainment value. 

2019 was not a great year for real estate. It wasn’t for a lot of Realtors. For me, working full time and trying to run a business was not easy, but now I have the time to focus more energy into my business, to help more clients and hopefully bring more results!

2019 was a not a great year for me in terms of background work either, especially compared to 2018. I only had 5 days on set as a background performer this year. This is one of the reasons I decided to pursue work as a crew member, which I found fulfilled the desire to simply be on set.

So what does 2020 have in store for me? I guess I will have to wait and see with 20/20 vision! My main resolution is to continue with the work I have been doing. To keep exercising, keep running, ride Stardust more, more mermaiding, swimming, walking, exploring. For acting to keep taking workshops and classes when I can and keep auditioning and hopefully get more auditions in film and TV. I am going to continue to write and complete things, allowing others to read them. I have a short film script that I would love to see produced next year. I hope to do more real estate, more PA work, more IATSE work and more background work. I also want to travel. I would dearly love to go to Ontario for my mother’s 70th birthday in March and for my brother’s 40th in December. I also want to visit my cousin in New Mexico. But mostly I resolve to stay true to myself, to not accept second best and to keep striving for excellence, inspiring others and myself at the same time.

Happy New Year!  

[pope-francis-quotes]

1st June >> (@ZenitEnglish) #Pope Francis #PopeFrancis Address at Marian Meeting with Young People and Families in Iasi, Romania (Full Text) #PopeFrancis #PopeinRomania

In Square in Front of Palace of Culture

Following is the full text of the address Pope Francis gave on June 1, 2019, at his Marian Meeting with Young People and Families in Iasi, on the second day of his apostolic journey to Romania from May 31-June2.

******

Dear Brothers and Sisters, bună seara!

Here with you, I feel the warmth being at home and part of a family, surrounded by young and old alike. In your presence and looking out at you, it is easy to feel at home. The Pope feels at home here with you. Thank you for your warm welcome and for your testimonies. Bishop Petru, good strong father that he is, included all of you in his introduction. And you, Eduard, confirmed this when you told us that this meeting was not simply for young people or adults, but that you “wanted our parents and grandparents to be with us tonight”.

Today is Children’s Day in Romania – let’s greet them with a round of applause! The first thing I would like us to do is to pray for them, asking the Blessed Virgin to shelter them under her mantle. Jesus placed children in the midst of his Apostles; we too want to put them at the center. We want to reaffirm our commitment to love them with the same love with which the Lord loves them and to make every effort to ensure their right to a future.

I am happy to know that here in this Square we see the face of God’s family, which is made up of children, young people, married couples, consecrated men and women, elderly Romanians from different regions and traditions, and others from Moldova. There are also those who came from the other side of the river Prut and who speak Csango, Polish and Russian. The Holy Spirit has called us here and he helps us discover the beauty of being together, of being able to meet to journey together. Each of you has his or her own language and traditions, but you are happy to be here with others, with the happiness shared by Elisabeta and Ioan and their eleven children. All of you are different, you come from different places, yet “today everyone is gathered, together, just as on every Sunday morning in the old days, when everyone went to Church together”. The happiness of parents seeing their children gathered around them. Surely, today there is joy in heaven at the sight of all these children who have wanted to be together.

This is the experience of a new Pentecost (as we heard in the reading), where the Spirit embraces our differences and gives us the strength to open up paths of hope by bringing out the best in each person. It is the same path taken by the Apostles two thousand years ago. Today we are called to take their place and encouraged to be sowers of good seed. We cannot wait for others to do this; it is up to us.

Journeying together is not easy, is it? It is a gift that we have to ask for. A work of art for us to create, a beautiful gift for us to hand on. But where do we start?

I would like to take up a point made by our elderly couple, Elisabeta and Ioan. It is good to see when love sinks deep roots through sacrifice and commitment, work and prayer. Love took root in the two of you and it has borne rich fruit. As the prophet Joel says, when young and old meet, the elderly are not afraid to dream (cf. 2:28 [3:1]). This was your dream: “We dream that they may build a future without forgetting where they came from. We dream that none of our people will forget their roots”. You look to the future and you open the door to it for your children, your grandchildren, and your people by offering them the best lesson that you learned from your own journey: never forget where you come from. Wherever you go and whatever you do, don’t forget your roots. It is the same dream, the same advice that Saint Paul gave to Timothy: to keep alive the faith of his mother and grandmother (cf. 2 Tim 1:5-7). As you continue to grow in every way – stronger, older and even in importance – do not forget the most beautiful and worthwhile lesson you learned at home. It is the wisdom that comes from age. When you grow up, do not forget your mother and your grandmother, and the simple but robust faith that gave them the strength and tenacity to keep going and not to give up. It is a reason for you to give thanks and to ask for the generosity, courage, and selflessness of a “home-grown” faith that is unobtrusive, yet slowly but surely builds up the Kingdom of God.

Certainly, a faith that does not show up on the stock exchange, or “sell”, may not appear, as Eduard reminded us, to “be of much use”. Faith, however, is a gift that keeps alive a profound and beautiful certainty: that we are God’s beloved children. God loves with a Father’s love. Every life and every one of us belongs to him. We belong as children, but also as grandchildren, spouses, grandparents, friends, neighbors; we belong as brothers and sisters. The Evil one divides, scatters, separates; he sows discord and distrust. He wants us to live “detached” from others and from ourselves. The Spirit, on the contrary, reminds us that we are not anonymous, abstract, faceless beings, without history or identity. We are not meant to be empty or superficial. There is a very strong spiritual network that unites us; one that “connects” and sustains us, and is stronger than any other type of connection. It is roots: the realization that we belong to one another, that each of our lives is anchored in the lives of others. “Young people flourish when they are truly loved”, Eduard said. We all flourish when we feel loved. Because love draws us out of ourselves and invites us to take root in the lives of others. It is like those beautiful words of your national poet, whose fond wish for your sweet Romania was that “your children might live only in fraternity, like the stars of the night” (M. EMINESCU, What I Wish for You, Sweet Romania). We belong to each other and our happiness is meant to make others happy. Everything else is nonsense.

To journey together, wherever you may be, never forget what you learned at home.

This reminds me of the prophecy of one of the holy hermits of these lands. One day, the monk Galaction Ilie of Sihăstria Monastery was walking among sheep grazing on a mountainside when he met a saintly hermit whom he knew. He asked him: Tell me, Father, when will the world end? And the venerable hermit, with a deep sigh, replied: Father Galaction, do you want to know when the world will end? When there are no more paths between neighbors! That is, when there is no more Christian love and understanding between brothers and sisters, relatives, Christians and between peoples! When persons lose all their love, then it will truly be the end of the world. Because without love and without God, no one can live on the earth!

Life begins to wilt and droop, our hearts stop beating and wither, the elderly no longer dream and young people no longer prophesy when pathways between neighbors disappear… Because without love and without God, no one can live on the earth.

Eduard told us that, like many others in his town, he tried to practice the faith amid numerous challenges. Many indeed are the challenges that can discourage us and make us close in on ourselves. We cannot deny it or pretend that it isn’t the case. Difficulties exist and they are evident. But that cannot make us forget that faith itself offers us the greatest challenge of all: a challenge that, far from enclosing or isolating us, can bring out the best in us all. The Lord is the first to challenge us. He tells us that the worst comes when there are no more paths between neighbors when we see more trenches than roads. The Lord is the one who gives us a song more powerful than all the siren songs that would paralyze us on our journey. And he always does it the same way: by singing a more beautiful and challenging song.

The Lord gives us a vocation, a challenge to discover the talents and abilities we possess and to put them at the service of others. He asks us to use our freedom as a freedom to choose, to say yes to a loving plan, to a face, to a look. This is much greater freedom than simply being able to consume and buy things. It is a vocation that sets us in motion, makes us fill in trenches and open up new avenues to remind us all that we are children and brothers and sisters to one another.

During the Middle Ages, pilgrims set out together from this historical and cultural capital of your country, following the Via Transylvania on the way to Santiago de Compostela. Today many students from various parts of the world live here. I remember the virtual meeting we had in March (with Scholas Occurentes), where I learned that this year your city would be the national capital of youth. You have two great things here: a city historically known for openness and creativity, and one that can host young people from various parts of the world as it now does. Two things that remind us of the potential and the great mission that can you can carry out: to open up paths for journeying together and pursuing that prophetic vision: without love and without God, no one can live on the earth. Today, from this place, new paths can open up to the future, towards Europe and many other parts of the world. You can be pilgrims of the twenty-first century, capable of imagining afresh the bonds that unite us.

This is less about generating great programs or projects, than about allowing faith to grow. As I mentioned to you at the beginning: faith is not transmitted only by words, but also by gestures, looks, and caresses, like those of our mothers and grandmothers; with the flavor of those things we learned at home in a straightforward and simple way. Where there are hue and din, let us try to listen; where there is confusion, let us inspire harmony; where everything is uncertain and ambiguous, let us bring clarity. Where there is exclusion, let us offer solidarity; in the midst of sensationalism and instant communication, let us be concerned about the integrity of others; where there is aggression, let us bring peace; where there is falsehood, let us bring truth. In everything, let us make it our concern to open up paths that enable a sense of belonging, of being children and brothers and sisters (cf. Message for the 2018 World Day of Social Communications).

Romania is the “garden of the Mother of God”, and in this meeting, I have been able to realize why. Mary is a Mother who encourages her children’s dreams, who cherishes their hopes, who brings joy to their homes. She is a tender and true Mother who cares for us. You are that living, flourishing and hope-filled community that we can offer to our Mother. To her let us consecrate the future of young people, families and the Church. Mulţumesc! [Thank you!] [00957-EN.01] [Original text: Italian]

© Libreria Editrice Vatican

1st JUNE 01, 2019 17:39PAPAL TRIPS

[catholicartistsnyc]

Meet: Renee Darline Roden

RENEÉ DARLINE RODEN is a playwright and writer based in NYC. (Twitter: @reNEIGHimahorse ) 

CATHOLIC ARTIST CONNECTION (CAC): What brought you to NYC, and where did you come from?

RENEÉ DARLINE RODEN (RDR): I am originally from the very artist-friendly state of Minnesota. I first moved to NYC in 2014 as a post-grad volunteer at Cristo Rey New York High School, took a hiatus from the city for graduate school, and just returned in fall of 2018!

CAC: What do you see as your personal mission as a Catholic working in the arts?

RDR: I think Jacques Maritain has a lot of wisdom on this front when he writes: "your art is not isolated from your soul." Good art is authentic art, which means that if I'm making authentic art, it's going to be Christian simply because I am.

CAC: Where have you found support among your fellow artists for your Catholic faith?

RDR: Wherever two or three are gathered in my name, or simply in the name of good conversation and fellowship! New York's greatest resource is its people, and I have met so many artists - Christian, Catholic, non-Catholic - who are so delighted to engage in a discussion about faith, religion, ritual, the deep down things of life. This is always encouraging and inspiring.

CAC: How can the Church be more welcoming to artists?

RDR: Bishop Scharfenberger said in a recent interview that the devil's greatest temptation for us is discouragement. In that case, I think that the Church ought to offer artists real, positive encouragement.

In my experience, I have felt that pursuing a career in the arts seriously means risking other social metrics of success (salary, prestige, etc.) in order to pursue a vision of beauty and goodness that I believe is good for the world but the world doesn't value that much.

The Church has a great partnership in artists, who seek, like the Church goodness and beauty. We may not be putting the most in the collection plate on Sundays, but we're invaluable resources to the Church in a different way.

CAC: How can the artistic world be more welcoming to artists of faith?

RDR: I was recently talking with a fellow Christian working professionally in the arts and she made the excellent point that it's on us to be evangelists for Christ. Christianity's - particularly Catholicism's- public face has taken a bad hit in recent years, unfortunately, and it's up to us to be bearers of Christ to a world that's not quite sure what to make of him (or at least his church). The majority of non-religious or formerly-religious people in the arts I've encountered are actually pretty interested in talking about religion - it's a meaningful part of the human experience that people want to talk about and often don't have avenues to do so.

People may have been hurt by an experience of religion, they may be wrestling with their spiritual journey, they may want to argue about a teaching, understand our spirituality, make sense of their own experience, and I think that if we provide listening ears and walk with them a bit on their journey that can be a very powerful welcome to them into the world of faith. If we, as Catholics and Christians, are people others can talk to about the most vulnerable layer of life, that's a rare gift to offer a spiritually hungering world.

CAC: Where in NYC do you regularly find spiritual fulfillment?

RDR: Honestly, the subway. It can also be a space of the greatest spiritual desolation or tribulation (ugh). But where else can you have your face crushed into the smelly armpit of an Image of God during rush hour traffic? There's something real good in how truly unpleasant that is.

It took me a while to love New York, but the city finally won me over when I was riding the M60 SBS to LaGuardia one summer at 4am; there was  a sea of faces on that bus, and they really did shine like Thomas Merton says they did on the corner of Fourth and Walnut. I usually try to leave the city to find quiet, but in the city, I find the greatest opportunity to find God in that really uncomfortable sacrament of your neighbor. I'm ~~still working on it~~

CAC: Where in NYC do you regularly find artistic fulfillment?

RDR: Project Y and Bushwick Starr have been very good to me and are great places for young writers. I have found lots of artistic inspiration and refreshment at NYC's many museums: Brooklyn Museum, The Frick, and The Met are good places to cleanse your eyes with some beauty and get inspired. I regularly write in Monet's water lilies room in MoMa.

CAC: If you have a spiritual director, how did you find that person? 

RDR: I am a big external processor and I process my relationships via conversations with trusted advisors. So I have found a spiritual director is pretty essential for processing my relationship with God. I found my spiritual director during graduate school, and decided to keep doing direction via Skype. I prefer meeting with people in person, but I think with a spiritual director, when you find someone who gets you and speaks a language that makes sense for you, that's worth sticking with. If you're looking for to start spiritual direction, St. Ignatius Loyola is a really helpful parish that is committed to helping people find a spiritual director.

CAC: What is your daily artistic practice? And what are your recommendations to other artists for practicing their craft daily?

RDR: It's so basic: write every day. I prefer writing in the morning, but on weekdays, it's usually after work. I don't write a masterpiece each evening, but a little chipping away at projects goes a long way. Also I think catching the stray creative thoughts and insights throughout the day or writing something striking or beautiful that happened in your day is important. I have a journal on me (almost) at all times to write down thoughts that bubble up randomly throughout the day. In absence of journal, I use my iPhones notes app. Before I had a smartphone, I would text myself ideas or images seen throughout the day.

CAC: How do you make a living in NYC?

RDR: How to balance having security and making art is a question that I think I will always be wrestling with. I currently work remotely as an editor. I have immense respect for my fellow artists who do not have full-time jobs with benefits. The financial, emotional, physical and mental security that a full-time job brings is something I do not take for granted and I'm seriously grateful. A day job that is both meaningful work and builds skills that help me in my art has been very, very helpful.

CAC: What other practical resources would you recommend to a Catholic artist living in NYC? RDR: Get an NYC City ID Look for free nights at Museums to see discounted art! Get on mailing lists of good places: Catholic NYC List Catholic Artists Connection The people: I have most learned how to navigate New York by talking to people who have done it before me. Email people, ask to get coffee, build friendships, learn how they found their apartment, how they make their writing happen, where they like to go to work, how they found their job, who did their headshots. Ask for help, and you shall receive.

CAC: What are your top 3 pieces of advice for Catholic artists moving to NYC?

RDR: 1. Live with good people. I lived on an air mattress in a small room for a month while looking for a lease, but I was with roommates who made dinner with me, watched Cohen Brothers films, and talked politics and those blessings cover a multitude of inconveniences. 2.  Be brave. David Mamet says that all art is just brave men and women getting up and telling the truth. Art takes courage, as does living in New York City, as does being a Christian. Don't be afraid of failure or disappointment - just keep being brave. 3. If you haven't had a really full, authentic belly laugh recently, find someone who will make you laugh and hang out with them or call them on the phone. Gotta have that joy fully stocked at all times.

[romancatholicreflections]

26th January >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on

Luke 10:1-9 for the Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops  

and

Mark 3:20-21 for Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time.

Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops  

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

Luke 10:1-9

Your peace will rest on that man

The Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them out ahead of him, in pairs, to all the towns and places he himself was to visit. He said to them, ‘The harvest is rich but the labourers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send labourers to his harvest. Start off now, but remember, I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Carry no purse, no haversack, no sandals. Salute no one on the road. Whatever house you go into, let your first words be, “Peace to this house!” And if a man of peace lives there, your peace will go and rest on him; if not, it will come back to you. Stay in the same house, taking what food and drink they have to offer, for the labourer deserves his wages; do not move from house to house. Whenever you go into a town where they make you welcome, eat what is set before you. Cure those in it who are sick, and say, “The kingdom of God is very near to you.”’

Gospel (USA)

Luke 10:1-9

The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.

The Lord Jesus appointed seventy-two other disciples whom he sent ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he intended to visit. He said to them, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest. Go on your way; behold, I am sending you like lambs among wolves. Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals; and greet no one along the way. Into whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this household.’ If a peaceful person lives there, your peace will rest on him; but if not, it will return to you. Stay in the same house and eat and drink what is offered to you, for the laborer deserves his pay. Do not move about from one house to another. Whatever town you enter and they welcome you, eat what is set before you, cure the sick in it and say to them, ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand for you.’”

Reflections (5)

(i) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Timothy and Titus were two of Paul’s closest co-workers. Paul was arguably the most influential member of the early church. He was hugely influential in his own time, and his letters have shaped the life of the church down the centuries. Yet, for all his significance, he was keenly aware of himself as dependent on the gifts of others. He had many co-workers, men and women, on whom he depended. They were as significant for him as he was for them. He didn’t simply have a working relationship with people like Timothy and Titus; he had a sense of real communion with them. That comes across with regard to Timothy in today’s first reading. Paul writes to him, ‘always I remember you in my prayers’. His communion with Timothy found expression in prayerful remembrance. As he remembered his associates in prayer, they must have remembered Paul in prayer. We have an image here in microcosm of what the church is called to be. As members of the church, we are in communion with each other, a communion which is the fruit of the Spirit. One of the ways in which we give expression to this communion is by praying for each other. Like Paul, we are aware of our dependence on others within the church. Within this communion of faith and love, we each have something to give to each other and much to receive from each other. We are members of one body, the body of Christ, and, like the physical members of a human body, we are mutually interdependent. In the gospel reading, Jesus did not send out the seventy two, one at a time, although that might have been the best way to cover the widest possible area. He sent the seventy two out two by two, in thirty six groups of two. Jesus wanted no one to work alone; he knew that each would be dependent on the other. He also encouraged each pair to become dependent on those to whom they preached the gospel. They were not to bring a haversack of food because they were to rely for hospitality on those to whom they preached. Today’s feast of Timothy and Titus reminds us that the Lord can work most powerfully through the many, rather than the one, provided the many are in a communion of faith and love.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

In the first reading this morning for the feast of Saints Timothy and Titus, Paul begins by telling Timothy that he always remembers him in his prayers. Paul was very convinced of the value of intercessory prayer. He frequently told people that he remembered them in his prayers. We all appreciate being remembered in other people’s prayers, and other people appreciate it when we let them know that we are praying for them. This is one of the ways we give expression to what the church calls the communion of saints, the deep bond between all the baptized, including the bond between those of us on our pilgrim way and those who have come to the end of their earthly pilgrimage. It is because of that aspect of the communion of saints that we pray not only for the living but also for the dead. In praying for each other, we are being reminded and reminding each other that we need each other on our journey towards God. We need each other’s prayers; we also need each other’s witness. In our first reading Paul praises Timothy’s sincere faith but he reminds him that his faith has its roots in the faith of his mother and of his grandmother. We need the faith of other if our own faith is to endure. Our efforts to live the faith and to witness to the Lord make it easier for everyone else to do so as well.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Yesterday was the feast of the conversion of Saint Paul. Today is the feast of two of Paul’s closest associates and co-workers, Timothy and Titus. Paul needed associates to do his work. Jesus too needed associates to do his work. That is why we find him in today’s gospel reading appointing seventy two and sending them out ahead of him; it wasn’t enough just to appoint the twelve. Indeed, as he sends out the 72, he asks them to pray to the Lord of the harvest for even more workers for the Lord’s harvest. Indeed, the Lord needs us all; we are all called to be his co-workers, proclaiming by our lives that, in the words of Jesus this morning, ‘the kingdom of God is very near to you’. If the Lord needs us to share in his work, we, in turn, need each other’s support if we are to respond to that call of the Lord. In the first reading, Paul refers to the faith of Timothy’s mother and grandmother. Without their faith, Timothy would not have been the man of faith he was. We can all point to parents, grandparents and various other companions on the pilgrimage of life, without whom we would not have come to faith in the Lord. As Paul needed Timothy and Titus, and Jesus needed many workers, we need each other’s witness if the gift that God gave us in baptism is to be fanned into a living flame, in the words of today’s first reading. We ask the Lord to increase our faith so that we can be a support to one another in the living out of our baptismal calling.

And/Or

(iv) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Today we celebrate the feast of two of Paul’s most important co-workers. Paul was the great apostle to the Gentiles, but he was very aware of how dependant he was on the support of people like Timothy and Titus. Paul never saw himself as a type of ‘lone ranger’. It was Paul who gave us that image of the church as the body of Christ with a great diversity of members, each with their own gift of the Spirit, each member with a vital contribution to make to the life of the church and at the same time dependent upon the contribution of everyone else in the church. This is how Paul saw his ministry. He was aware of his own gifts that the Lord was asking him to share with others and he was equally aware of his dependence upon the gifts of others. Paul’s vision of church was anticipated in Jesus’ own practice. Jesus did not work alone. Shortly after he began his public ministry, he called people to be with him, to share in his work, to become his presence to others. This morning’s gospel reading reveals Jesus’ awareness that the rich harvest of the Lord needed many labourers, all of them working together. When he sent out people in his name, he did not send them out alone, but, as the gospel reading tells us, he sent them out two by two. Jesus and Paul laboured with others; we too are asked to do the same. We serve the Lord of the harvest in communion with each other, ready to share our gifts that the Spirit has given us, and open to the gifts of others that the Spirit has given them. We follow the Lord and work in his name together, ready to give the Lord to each other and to receive the Lord from each other. At the beginning of the first reading, Paul reminds Timothy that he has received the gift faith from others, from his mother, Eunice, and, before her, from his grandmother, Lois. Paul then calls upon him to give to others the gift of faith that he has received from those before him, not in a spirit of timidity but in a spirit of courageous witness. This is a message we all need to hear today.

And/Or

(v) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Today we celebrate the memorial of two of Saint Paul’s closest associates, Timothy and Titus. In today’s first reading, Paul addresses Timothy as a third-generation believer. He refers to the faith that came first to live in his grandmother Lois, and then in his mother Eunice, and then in Timothy himself. It seems that Timothy caught the faith in his home. The same is true for many of us. Our own faith owes a great deal to the faith of our parents and grandparents. The same could not be said of Paul. His parents and grandparents were Jewish. It was his life changing encounter with the risen Lord that brought him to faith in Jesus, probably leaving him at odds with his parents and grandparents. Both Timothy’s and Paul’s experience reminds us that the Lord can touch the lives of people through the faith of family members, but he can also touch their lives in other, less conventional, ways. The Lord is always reaching out to us in one way or another. In the gospel reading, he reached out to the people of his time by sending out a very large group of seventy two disciples with the message, ‘The kingdom of God is very near to you’. Jesus’ words to the seventy-two suggest that he was aware that this attempt on his part to touch the lives of a bigger number would not always be successful, ‘I am sending you out like lambs among wolves’. Yet, the Lord was never put off by people’s resistance. Whether people accepted or rejected him, it remained the case that ‘the kingdom of God is very near to you’. The Lord is always near to us, and never tires of seeking us out and calling out to us to come to him. He can do this in a whole variety of ways.

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

Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time  

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

Mark 3:20-21

Jesus' relatives were convinced he was out of his mind

Jesus went home, and once more such a crowd collected that they could not even have a meal. When his relatives heard of this, they set out to take charge of him, convinced he was out of his mind.

Gospel (USA)

Mark 3:20-21

They said, "He is out of his mind.”

Jesus came with his disciples into the house. Again the crowd gathered, making it impossible for them even to eat. When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.”

Reflections (3)

(i) Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

Mark suggests strongly in the course of his gospel that a lot of people did not really understand Jesus during his public ministry. One of the questions that keeps coming up in one form or another is, ‘Who then is this?’ In this morning’s very short gospel reading, it is clear that even Jesus’ relatives do not understand who Jesus is or what he is about. When Jesus’ workload prevents him from eating properly, Mark tells us that his relatives set out to take charge of him, because many were saying that he was out of his mind. They would go on to learn on that occasion that Jesus was not open to being taken charge of by his relatives. The only one who was in charge of Jesus was God. Jesus was doing God’s work, and part of that work was to form a new family, a family of disciples, of brothers and sisters of Jesus, sons and daughters of God. Jesus’ own natural family, his relatives, would have to come to terms with that. We are all part of that new family; we are all the fruit of Jesus’ work, a work that people struggled hard to understand at the time. For us who are part of this new family, the question, ‘Who then is this?’ remains a relevant question. We are always struggling to know more fully the Son of God whose brothers and sisters we have become.

And/Or

(ii) Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

This morning’s gospel reading from Mark must be one of the shortest gospel readings in the liturgical year. Yet it is very thought provoking. It declares that Jesus’ relatives set out to take charge of Jesus and bring him back to Nazareth because they were convinced that he was out of his mind. By this time in Mark’s gospel Jesus had incurred the hostility of the religious authorities by his teaching and his behaviour, by his eating with tax collectors and sinners, by declaring himself to be the Son of Man who has authority to forgive sins, by working on the Sabbath to heal the sick, and so on. Perhaps Jesus’ family felt that he was not being very wise, that he was behaving in ways that were foolhardy and risky, and they wanted to preserve and protect him. Indeed, Jesus’ teaching and behaviour would eventually put him on a Roman cross. Yet, Jesus remained faithful to his calling to proclaim God’s kingdom in word and deed, regardless of the personal consequences for himself. He would not be deflected from that, not even by well meaning relatives. He placed God’s purpose for the well-being of others, both material and spiritual, before all else. This is what is referred to in the beatitudes as purity of heart, that purity of intention which seeks God’s will and God’s kingdom before all else. He calls on us to follow him in putting the purpose of God and the well being of others before our own comfort and preservation. That does not come easy to us; our instincts can be more like those of Jesus’ relatives than of Jesus himself. We need the help of the Spirit if we are to be as pure in heart as Jesus was.

And/Or

(iii) Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

This very short gospel reading from Mark gives us a little glimpse of how Jesus was misunderstood within his own family. Jesus is busily engaged in his ministry and his family come down from Nazareth to Capernaum to take charge of him because they believe he is out of his mind. A few chapters later in Mark’s gospel Jesus is rejected in his home town of Nazareth and in response to that experience Jesus says, ‘Prophets are not without honour, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house’. Jesus was taking a path in life that his family did not approve of. Tension within families is something we have all experienced at some time or other. This was a dimension of human living that Jesus also experienced. He entered fully into the human condition, knowing from within its struggles, its tensions, its misunderstandings and the resulting pain for all concerned. He can walk compassionately with us through those experiences because he has been there himself. Jesus did not always go where his family wanted him to go because he was subject to a greater authority in his life, and that was God’s authority. God’s purpose drove him and he was faithful to that purpose even when it brought him into conflict with those for whom he had the strongest feelings of natural affection. We, his followers, are called to remain true to the Lord’s direction, his guidance, his vision and values, even if that means for us what it meant for him, finding ourselves at odds with those who are nearest and dearest to us.

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

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  frmartinhogan@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.

[overfedvenison]

Neverwinter Nights 2 Journal....

Alright, I went through the Coven of Hags. I wasn't expecting much - it was basically a string of nonlinear challenges to get to the front of the line, and I had to fight the last group as the group of undead refused to budge or speak to me. No matter, I turned their Vampires into Chickens and killed the rest.

But upon gaining council, the hags trapped me in a dungeon - The Skein. Around here I'm feeling the Fighter's lack of Diplomacy, and so am improving my Intimidate skill as I level.

The atmosphere here is thick. It's dark, dank, and dripping with water. A mad hag is somewhere beyond, cackling and screaming as you explore. I really like the concept, and it's unnerving at first... But the hag just talks too much, and after a while it gets sort of annoying rather than scary. A shame, but an excellent first impression.

The Skein is kind of rough at places... My wizard Safiya is hanging back near the start, buffing me with a Persist Haste while I venture fourth. By using Stealth, Tracking, and Search I wander through the area alone, without much issue aside from a group of hags who's magic eventually wore me down enough that I had to use my Telthor Leg Bone to become Ethereal and retreat until I regenerated... For some reason I didn't want to stay locked-on to attack them, either. Still, being worn down once and retreating to use a Ring of Regeneration gives me about twice as much HP as I actually have, and I have 480 HP, so... Not too much three hags can do against that while I attack them with my Reaper's Despair sickle, haha. At another point, I brought out a bow and started sniping an elemental that couldn't reach me.

I also encountered a group of NPCs surviving in this desolate dungeon and actually got a (Search) dialogue check to call out someone's bluff, which was neat. I found they were listening to "The Sleeper," a drow trapped in an eternal slumber who periodically babbles exposition.

I made my way through the Skein, and made my way to the Hag. Her boss fight was interesting; at one point she took over Safiya and I had to defeat her, but being a wizard the melee fight was one-sided. I wonder what would have happened if I was alone? In any case, it seems the hag was placed here for a relationship with a human that she loved, which birthed Gann. In this playthrough I never met him, so.... Whelp. Interesting information, nonetheless. I elected to kill her before the madness returns - Neutral, remember.

Killing her gave me the ability to travel into dreams. Weird, but sure. I travelled into The Sleeper's nightmare, and she begged me to kill her as the hags trapped her in eternal slumber due to dream traveling. Since I am neutral, I decided to to kill her, as well - I might have freed her if I wanted to slaughter the coven of hags above, but she's right in her assessment that the knowledge they have is too valuable.

From there, I went upstairs, fought some hagspawn, and entered into the dream of the coven...

(...)

The coven first sent me on a stageplay at a dreamscape of the theater my and Safiya are staying at, where we reenacted Akechi's defeat at the hands of the god of death. My character was told to improvise, but I didn't know my lines... Akechi didn't flee nor fight, though, and given the god of death is DEAD and replaced by a new death god I suspect Akechi's involvement.

The crowd turned hostile, and so I had to reenact Akechi's punishment and fight off various monsters. Afterwards, the actors playing Akechi's allies told me they would wait for his return and go through the gate when needed.

After that, a portal opened. I followed it to see the slumbering people maintaining the Slumbering Coven, who you could see in the real world before I entered this dreamscape. I entered the human's mind, and he wanted to gamble over a game of "Hells," essentially Mastermind. I beat him three times in a row by keeping track of everything in a note document and analyzing everything.

...After that, I exited to find the other two people gone and a new portal opened. I followed that one as well.

Beyond that was the Red Mage Araman that usurped Safiya's college, standing at the Betrayer's Gate I had found and cleared earlier. Safiya, or someone that looks like her, soon joins him... As expected, Araman is the brother of the child I met in the vision I had earlier (It was hinted at there,) who turns out to be Akechi the Betrayer (Which was at best a theory at the time.) Also as expected, we need to find the Silver Sword of Gith in order to open the gate beyond to the Fugue Plane and the Wall of the Faithless. I found that, being quite thorough, most of the preliminary questions I could inquire about were things I knew already... But now, everything is coming together. We have confirmation that all this is connected: The Spirit Eater Curse, the Sword of Gith, Akechi and the Crusade against the Wall of the Faithless.

Akechi explains that he previously betrayed his god to help his brother. Dream-Safiya knew the betrayer, and he wanted her safety. Akechi "suffered for her love" in her words. We know from earlier that Akechi had turned his back on his faith because his wife, who worshipped no god, died in a magic accident bricked into the Wall of the Faithless. If the woman who looks like Safiya in this dream is indeed that women, that means she may have been successfully removed from the Wall by Akechi during the last crusade?

I have a small argument with Araman here - He says he cannot betray his god again, I tell him that the betrayer would not want them to fight. Araman says that suffering cannot be avoided, and the universe cannot be torn asunder for the sake of one soul. I say "You're hiding behind philosophy and abstraction. However you justify yourself, you've betrayed your brother's trust." He declared that some choices are simply wrong, with love only making it harder to oppose, and that Akechi's quest is selfish and that he did not consider the conesquences. He says that the woman who looks like Safiya, too, "sows suffering in loves name and would have the heavens fall if love was served by this."

Then he attacks. I made short work of him, and the woman who looks like Safiya fades away after thanking me.

Uhh, you can choose to say his hand was forced,  and he is not to blame, or that the gods should be obeyed, or that love is most important... But I'm neutral in the most "Gods and demons, get the hell off my planet" sense, and not schmaltzy enough to support love for loves sake. The Wall of the Faithless is planar dieties imposing their will on mortals, which is inherently unjust to my neutral views.

After that, I exited and took care of the two other people maintaining the Hag Coven's barriers... An Illithid who I had to help escape a maze, and a wizard trapped in a contract with a demon. I got 2500xp each, and a dream dagger I used to kill a pit fiend later.

And then, more plot: The portal brings me to the Wall of the Faithless where we meet Bishop again - An athiest, he is fused into the wall. Apparently he died after escaping the final battle, when the ceiling caved in on him (Since that data is not kept in the expansion, you basically just select what happened in a dialogue choice.) Despite being encased, sentient and awake, inside a wall, he's as sarcastic as ever and in a pitiable state.

He tells me that the wall of souls waits for me to lead the crusade, but he believes it to be a pointless endeavor and waits to be devoured to nothing. Then he drops a bomb on us: When taken over for just a moment by some outside force, he sees us inside the wall.

After fighting a pit fiend, I took a mask fragment from his body.

(...)

So, what does this all mean? I have theories...

- First: If I'm following correctly... the Sword of Gith should be at the college of Red Wizards, taken from us in the theater we explored earlier. The owner of the theater we were staying at, and her Red Wizard contact, had sent gargoyles to get us before the start of the game, extracted the silver shard in our chest, and placed us in Okko's Burrow to intentionally receive the curse. Maybe.

- I... Think this may have been a gambit to force us to continue the Betrayer's Crusade, as we reforged the Sword of Gith, and the point of removing the shard from my character's chest and giving her the curse was to complete the blade so I can lead the crusade once more. Araman led a coup in response, to stop our crusade at any cost. Hence, the Red Wizards, now mostly led by him, are our enemies and we will have to fight many to get the Sword of Gith

- The connection between Safiya, Araman, and Akechi explains why she was sent to find us in the Burrow, and how she got inside, at the start of the game Safiya was sent to get me and bring me to her Mother (Edit: Aunt) at the theater, who would have explained the situation, maybe, and brought me to the completed Sword of Gith? But that was interrupted by Araman's flunkies which resulted in the people we had to see dying.

- What's more, the spirit eater curse... Either that was the punishment Akechi endured for his treason, and so he bound himself inside the den and kept his spirit from leaving, or the Spirit Eater Curse is not a curse at all, but something Akechi made intentionally to fight the gods. Or, a third option, it may be the result of a soul being ripped from your body, hence why I am in the Wall of the Faithless. I think the way to cure myself of this affliction is probably to get my soul back from the wall, in any case.

- I don't know yet if Safiya is the same person who was plucked from the wall, perhaps extending her life via her specialized Transmutation magic, or if she is being earnest in not knowing about current happenings or why she was sent to find me. She doesn’t seem like it, at the very least.

EDIT: I played another like, five minutes and cleared the area and got some confusion cleared up. Wah

Anyways...

I left the Wall of the Faithless and spoke to the Coven of Hags, now physical and willing to speak.

The white and red twins were Lienna and Nefris. Nefris is the mother if Safiya and former head of the Red Wizard college, and they were twins...

Uhh...Did we not know that already? I guess I just assumed.

Apparently, they wanted to end me of my affliction. They show me what happaned... The two approached the coven and wanted to know how to cure the affliction, which they were told was indeed an affliction doled out by the former god of death. So I must find the God of Death's corpse, go into his dreams, and find a cure for the affliction that way (Which I have a STRONG INCLINATION is going to be "Get your soul/Akechi's Soul back from the wall of the faithless)

Alright, that reveal... Debunks a few theories I had, but strengthens a few others. Also I think I'm confusing a few of the characters, wuh. It was the white mage who died, not Safiya's mother? Right then...

I spoke to Safiya afterwards who cleared up a bit. - Araman hasn't succeeded on a coup against Safiya's mother, and Safiya's mother was the person in the dream. That means the Red Wizards aren't our enemies... Quite yet - Safiya is safe, then, and just an agent of her mother. - Akechi's allies for the fight are a demilich, a dragon, and a celestial. They were referenced elsewhere. - Since the twins were trying to cure me, they aren't part of a conspiracy.... However, It doesn't seem to make sense that I got the curse for entering Okko's lair in that case. If the Gargoyles took me from the crumbling area in Meredelain to the Theater, and then to Okko's Lair, I would have had to have the Sprit Eater curse before I was in there? No? Unless I was placed there and THEN moved. Mmm.... I think I'm missing something. This will clear itself out in time.

Oh! And Safiya asks to train me now that we're close. First she sharpens my mind and gives me a free +1 INT and a +2 on spell save DCs. Now my Intelligence is 16. ...A shame I don't get skill points for it. I also leveled up, and have 570 HP

[firstumcschenectady]

"God's Peace – In the Midst of the Storm” based on Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32 and Mark 4:35-41

Two years ago at the Upper New York Annual Conference, Bishop Sandra Steiner Ball guest preached for the ordination and commissioning service. She preached on this text, and what she said was memorable enough that I can no longer hear this passage without her interpretation of it.

You may remember that two years ago the United Methodist world was in turmoil over the passage of “The Traditional Plan” at the 2019 Special Session of General Conference. That is, our denomination has been explicitly homophobic since 1972. Thanks to the decades of work by organizers, activists, and people of conscience there was sufficient pressure to create change. A special session of our denomination's global legislative was called to respond to the church's continued exclusion of God's LGBTQIA+ people. There were several proposals on the table that brought positive change, and one that multiplied the harm already being done.

I still remember standing in shock after the final vote was taken, and watching my phone explode with the global news outlet alerts that – as the NYTimes put it “United Methodists Tighten Ban on Same-Sex Marriage and Gay Clergy.” The homophobia of this denomination had already been an abomination, yet people stayed knowing that the best way to bring change was from the inside. It was long, hard work, but we had felt confidence that God's Spirit of Love would win in the long run. The decision to pass the Traditional Plan changed all that, and made it clear that over the long run people of conscience CANNOT stay in a homophobic denomination.

That was February. We were still reeling, grieving, and furious when Annual Conference came. Thanks be to God, we'd also organized, and Upper New York will be sending a very different delegation to the next General Conference (whenever the pandemic allows that to happen). Nevertheless, the conviction remained for progressives and even many moderates: one way or another, we will NOT STAY in a homophobic denomination. One way or another, we will be part of a church that welcomes all of God's people, and soon.

It was into that reality that Bishop Steiner Ball preached. And she did so as a guest preacher in an Annual Conference whose Bishop had been a leader in writing and passing The Traditional plan. She took this passage and asked us to stay in the boat with Jesus. She acknowledged the storm raging around us, she named the reasons we would have to simply bail on the entire endeavor, she made space for hurt, anger, and fear. At the same time, she claimed that Jesus was in the boat with us, in the midst of the storm, and powerful enough to respond to the storm. She believed that Jesus could bring resolution, IF we just stayed in the boat. She offered that while the storm was raging so strongly it could be tempting to just jump into the sea, that the sea itself was not without its own issues. She urged us to stay long enough for Jesus to act, to bring resolution, to find a way forward for the people called Methodists.12

Here we are, two years later, still in that storm, and still with Jesus. The biggest change is that with the global pandemic, we are dealing with multiple storms at once. The storm that is the pandemic keeps United Methodists from gathering to split into different denominations that will be able to live their own faith with integrity. The storm that is the church's homophobia prevents the denomination from being able to speak with moral authority, even of issues of death and dying brought on by the pandemic.

So here we are, in a boat, in the midst of raging storms. But, Bishop Steiner Ball says that Jesus is in the boat with us. Further, she reminds us that Jesus is able to calm the storms.

I am aware that the global pandemic storms, and the global church storms are themselves far from the only storms attacking our boats.

In truth, I suspect that for many of us the storms raging most strongly are inside us. Narratives and traumas from our childhoods continue to attack within. Existential anxiety has its way with us, often in ways we don't even see. Assumptions about others, fear of the the unknown, and a tendency to see enemies were there are only people who are different also keep us on the defensive. The whole world turning upside down on us, not yet being righted, and likely to find a balance somewhere other than where it used to be obviously doesn't help either. People are comforted by the familiar, which means that the past 15 months have been particularly discomforting at exactly the time we've most needed comfort.

Which is all to say that I think there are storms raging within us, probably all of us to a greater or lesser extent.

To support this theory, mental health professionals have never been so busy. Now, I'd say that in an ideal world, we'd all get regular mental health care as a means of simply being healthy. But most of the time, most people don't seek mental health care until they're well into a crisis/storm and can't find their way out alone. So very busy mental health care professionals is a signal that many people are really struggling.

There isn't anything wrong with struggling. It is a human reality. The “Disciple Bible Study” curriculums call such things “the human condition.” There isn't actually anything wrong with being in a storm. It is also a human condition, and quite often it is well out of our control.

That said, being in the midst of a storm, particularly one like our scriptures talk about today are NOT comfortable. These are the sorts of storms that make it seem more likely that death is on the horizon than life.

And Jesus sleeps through it.

Either he was beyond exhaustion, or he was living non-anxious presence or both. Impressive, Jesus.

The story says Jesus awoke, rebuked the storm, and rebuked the disciples. I feel like it forgets to tell us that he then curled back up and went back to sleep. The storm was silenced. The disciples were awed.

I wonder if any of the storms that rage within us are ones that God would be happy to silence and bring to peace, if we were willing to let God do it. I suspect so. Some storms we are aren't ready to let go of. Some storms just aren't done yet. But some of them are only causing us harm, and are ready to be silenced.

Can you tell? Can you feel any of them that have run their course and would be response to “peace, be still!”? Can you even imagine what life would be like without that storm?

To go back to the storm we started with, I learned about the church's homophobia when I was 13, and started working against it then. I have worked for and dreamed of being a part of a big-C Church that welcomes, affirms, and loves all of God's people. You have too. This church has been explicitly committed to changing the UMC's life-denying policies for 25 years now, and was already committed to it before then too!

Yet, it boggles my mind to try to imagine life without this fight – or at least changing this fight from one fighting explicit policy to fighting implicit bias. My identity will need a reboot.

And I think that's often true of our internal storms too. We're used to them. They're familiar. They're a part of who we are, and we aren't entirely sure who we'd be without them.

But, friends, that's exactly what God is there for. God doesn't want to leave us in the pain of the past, or even the anxiety of the present. God is a source of healing, and energy of revival, a vision for wholeness, a hope for the future. Some of the things we're afraid to give up, God is ready to take away.

God's peace is stronger than the storms. God's peace can hold its own EVEN in the midst of the BIGGEST storms. It has a different kind of strength. It has a deeper kind of being.

So I invite you, to hear the words of Jesus resound in your soul. “Peace, be still.” And I invite you to listen to see what storms God has silenced. Because God is up to good in you, in us, in the world, and when we make space for it, God can transform even the most hurting parts of us. Thanks be to God!

Amen

1Please note that these are my memories of a sermon I heard 2 years ago. As memories are faulty, and tend to have holes filled in with one's own assumptions, this is likely a high bred of what she said and what I wanted to hear and remember.

2 I take no authority to tell anyone they need to stay in the UMC boat. There are good reasons to leave, all the more for people who are LGBTQIA+. I'm sharing that it was meaningful to me, knowing that I'm not the center.

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

26th January >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on

Luke 10:1-9 for the Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops  

    and

Mark 3:20-21 for Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time.

Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus, Bishops  

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

Luke 10:1-9

Your peace will rest on that man

The Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them out ahead of him, in pairs, to all the towns and places he himself was to visit. He said to them, ‘The harvest is rich but the labourers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send labourers to his harvest. Start off now, but remember, I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Carry no purse, no haversack, no sandals. Salute no one on the road. Whatever house you go into, let your first words be, “Peace to this house!” And if a man of peace lives there, your peace will go and rest on him; if not, it will come back to you. Stay in the same house, taking what food and drink they have to offer, for the labourer deserves his wages; do not move from house to house. Whenever you go into a town where they make you welcome, eat what is set before you. Cure those in it who are sick, and say, “The kingdom of God is very near to you.”’

Gospel (USA)

Luke 10:1-9

The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few.

The Lord Jesus appointed seventy-two other disciples whom he sent ahead of him in pairs to every town and place he intended to visit. He said to them, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest. Go on your way; behold, I am sending you like lambs among wolves. Carry no money bag, no sack, no sandals; and greet no one along the way. Into whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this household.’ If a peaceful person lives there, your peace will rest on him; but if not, it will return to you. Stay in the same house and eat and drink what is offered to you, for the laborer deserves his pay. Do not move about from one house to another. Whatever town you enter and they welcome you, eat what is set before you, cure the sick in it and say to them, ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand for you.’”

Reflections (5)

(i) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Timothy and Titus were two of Paul’s closest co-workers. Paul was arguably the most influential member of the early church. He was hugely influential in his own time, and his letters have shaped the life of the church down the centuries. Yet, for all his significance, he was keenly aware of himself as dependent on the gifts of others. He had many co-workers, men and women, on whom he depended. They were as significant for him as he was for them. He didn’t simply have a working relationship with people like Timothy and Titus; he had a sense of real communion with them. That comes across with regard to Timothy in today’s first reading. Paul writes to him, ‘always I remember you in my prayers’. His communion with Timothy found expression in prayerful remembrance. As he remembered his associates in prayer, they must have remembered Paul in prayer. We have an image here in microcosm of what the church is called to be. As members of the church, we are in communion with each other, a communion which is the fruit of the Spirit. One of the ways in which we give expression to this communion is by praying for each other. Like Paul, we are aware of our dependence on others within the church. Within this communion of faith and love, we each have something to give to each other and much to receive from each other. We are members of one body, the body of Christ, and, like the physical members of a human body, we are mutually interdependent. In the gospel reading, Jesus did not send out the seventy two, one at a time, although that might have been the best way to cover the widest possible area. He sent the seventy two out two by two, in thirty six groups of two. Jesus wanted no one to work alone; he knew that each would be dependent on the other. He also encouraged each pair to become dependent on those to whom they preached the gospel. They were not to bring a haversack of food because they were to rely for hospitality on those to whom they preached. Today’s feast of Timothy and Titus reminds us that the Lord can work most powerfully through the many, rather than the one, provided the many are in a communion of faith and love.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

In the first reading this morning for the feast of Saints Timothy and Titus, Paul begins by telling Timothy that he always remembers him in his prayers. Paul was very convinced of the value of intercessory prayer. He frequently told people that he remembered them in his prayers. We all appreciate being remembered in other people’s prayers, and other people appreciate it when we let them know that we are praying for them. This is one of the ways we give expression to what the church calls the communion of saints, the deep bond between all the baptized, including the bond between those of us on our pilgrim way and those who have come to the end of their earthly pilgrimage. It is because of that aspect of the communion of saints that we pray not only for the living but also for the dead. In praying for each other, we are being reminded and reminding each other that we need each other on our journey towards God. We need each other’s prayers; we also need each other’s witness. In our first reading Paul praises Timothy’s sincere faith but he reminds him that his faith has its roots in the faith of his mother and of his grandmother. We need the faith of other if our own faith is to endure. Our efforts to live the faith and to witness to the Lord make it easier for everyone else to do so as well.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Yesterday was the feast of the conversion of Saint Paul. Today is the feast of two of Paul’s closest associates and co-workers, Timothy and Titus. Paul needed associates to do his work. Jesus too needed associates to do his work. That is why we find him in today’s gospel reading appointing seventy two and sending them out ahead of him; it wasn’t enough just to appoint the twelve. Indeed, as he sends out the 72, he asks them to pray to the Lord of the harvest for even more workers for the Lord’s harvest. Indeed, the Lord needs us all; we are all called to be his co-workers, proclaiming by our lives that, in the words of Jesus this morning, ‘the kingdom of God is very near to you’. If the Lord needs us to share in his work, we, in turn, need each other’s support if we are to respond to that call of the Lord. In the first reading, Paul refers to the faith of Timothy’s mother and grandmother. Without their faith, Timothy would not have been the man of faith he was. We can all point to parents, grandparents and various other companions on the pilgrimage of life, without whom we would not have come to faith in the Lord. As Paul needed Timothy and Titus, and Jesus needed many workers, we need each other’s witness if the gift that God gave us in baptism is to be fanned into a living flame, in the words of today’s first reading. We ask the Lord to increase our faith so that we can be a support to one another in the living out of our baptismal calling.

And/Or

(iv) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Today we celebrate the feast of two of Paul’s most important co-workers. Paul was the great apostle to the Gentiles, but he was very aware of how dependant he was on the support of people like Timothy and Titus. Paul never saw himself as a type of ‘lone ranger’. It was Paul who gave us that image of the church as the body of Christ with a great diversity of members, each with their own gift of the Spirit, each member with a vital contribution to make to the life of the church and at the same time dependent upon the contribution of everyone else in the church. This is how Paul saw his ministry. He was aware of his own gifts that the Lord was asking him to share with others and he was equally aware of his dependence upon the gifts of others. Paul’s vision of church was anticipated in Jesus’ own practice. Jesus did not work alone. Shortly after he began his public ministry, he called people to be with him, to share in his work, to become his presence to others. This morning’s gospel reading reveals Jesus’ awareness that the rich harvest of the Lord needed many labourers, all of them working together. When he sent out people in his name, he did not send them out alone, but, as the gospel reading tells us, he sent them out two by two. Jesus and Paul laboured with others; we too are asked to do the same. We serve the Lord of the harvest in communion with each other, ready to share our gifts that the Spirit has given us, and open to the gifts of others that the Spirit has given them. We follow the Lord and work in his name together, ready to give the Lord to each other and to receive the Lord from each other. At the beginning of the first reading, Paul reminds Timothy that he has received the gift faith from others, from his mother, Eunice, and, before her, from his grandmother, Lois. Paul then calls upon him to give to others the gift of faith that he has received from those before him, not in a spirit of timidity but in a spirit of courageous witness. This is a message we all need to hear today.

And/Or

(v) Feast of Saints Timothy and Titus

Today we celebrate the memorial of two of Saint Paul’s closest associates, Timothy and Titus. In today’s first reading, Paul addresses Timothy as a third-generation believer. He refers to the faith that came first to live in his grandmother Lois, and then in his mother Eunice, and then in Timothy himself. It seems that Timothy caught the faith in his home. The same is true for many of us. Our own faith owes a great deal to the faith of our parents and grandparents. The same could not be said of Paul. His parents and grandparents were Jewish. It was his life changing encounter with the risen Lord that brought him to faith in Jesus, probably leaving him at odds with his parents and grandparents. Both Timothy’s and Paul’s experience reminds us that the Lord can touch the lives of people through the faith of family members, but he can also touch their lives in other, less conventional, ways. The Lord is always reaching out to us in one way or another. In the gospel reading, he reached out to the people of his time by sending out a very large group of seventy two disciples with the message, ‘The kingdom of God is very near to you’. Jesus’ words to the seventy-two suggest that he was aware that this attempt on his part to touch the lives of a bigger number would not always be successful, ‘I am sending you out like lambs among wolves’. Yet, the Lord was never put off by people’s resistance. Whether people accepted or rejected him, it remained the case that ‘the kingdom of God is very near to you’. The Lord is always near to us, and never tires of seeking us out and calling out to us to come to him. He can do this in a whole variety of ways.

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Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time  

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

Mark 3:20-21

Jesus' relatives were convinced he was out of his mind

Jesus went home, and once more such a crowd collected that they could not even have a meal. When his relatives heard of this, they set out to take charge of him, convinced he was out of his mind.

Gospel (USA)

Mark 3:20-21

They said, "He is out of his mind.”

Jesus came with his disciples into the house. Again the crowd gathered, making it impossible for them even to eat. When his relatives heard of this they set out to seize him, for they said, “He is out of his mind.”

Reflections (3)

(i) Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

Mark suggests strongly in the course of his gospel that a lot of people did not really understand Jesus during his public ministry. One of the questions that keeps coming up in one form or another is, ‘Who then is this?’ In this morning’s very short gospel reading, it is clear that even Jesus’ relatives do not understand who Jesus is or what he is about. When Jesus’ workload prevents him from eating properly, Mark tells us that his relatives set out to take charge of him, because many were saying that he was out of his mind. They would go on to learn on that occasion that Jesus was not open to being taken charge of by his relatives. The only one who was in charge of Jesus was God. Jesus was doing God’s work, and part of that work was to form a new family, a family of disciples, of brothers and sisters of Jesus, sons and daughters of God. Jesus’ own natural family, his relatives, would have to come to terms with that. We are all part of that new family; we are all the fruit of Jesus’ work, a work that people struggled hard to understand at the time. For us who are part of this new family, the question, ‘Who then is this?’ remains a relevant question. We are always struggling to know more fully the Son of God whose brothers and sisters we have become.

And/Or

(ii) Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

This morning’s gospel reading from Mark must be one of the shortest gospel readings in the liturgical year. Yet it is very thought provoking. It declares that Jesus’ relatives set out to take charge of Jesus and bring him back to Nazareth because they were convinced that he was out of his mind. By this time in Mark’s gospel Jesus had incurred the hostility of the religious authorities by his teaching and his behaviour, by his eating with tax collectors and sinners, by declaring himself to be the Son of Man who has authority to forgive sins, by working on the Sabbath to heal the sick, and so on. Perhaps Jesus’ family felt that he was not being very wise, that he was behaving in ways that were foolhardy and risky, and they wanted to preserve and protect him. Indeed, Jesus’ teaching and behaviour would eventually put him on a Roman cross. Yet, Jesus remained faithful to his calling to proclaim God’s kingdom in word and deed, regardless of the personal consequences for himself. He would not be deflected from that, not even by well meaning relatives. He placed God’s purpose for the well-being of others, both material and spiritual, before all else. This is what is referred to in the beatitudes as purity of heart, that purity of intention which seeks God’s will and God’s kingdom before all else. He calls on us to follow him in putting the purpose of God and the well being of others before our own comfort and preservation. That does not come easy to us; our instincts can be more like those of Jesus’ relatives than of Jesus himself. We need the help of the Spirit if we are to be as pure in heart as Jesus was.

And/Or

(iii) Saturday, Second Week in Ordinary Time

This very short gospel reading from Mark gives us a little glimpse of how Jesus was misunderstood within his own family. Jesus is busily engaged in his ministry and his family come down from Nazareth to Capernaum to take charge of him because they believe he is out of his mind. A few chapters later in Mark’s gospel Jesus is rejected in his home town of Nazareth and in response to that experience Jesus says, ‘Prophets are not without honour, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house’. Jesus was taking a path in life that his family did not approve of. Tension within families is something we have all experienced at some time or other. This was a dimension of human living that Jesus also experienced. He entered fully into the human condition, knowing from within its struggles, its tensions, its misunderstandings and the resulting pain for all concerned. He can walk compassionately with us through those experiences because he has been there himself. Jesus did not always go where his family wanted him to go because he was subject to a greater authority in his life, and that was God’s authority. God’s purpose drove him and he was faithful to that purpose even when it brought him into conflict with those for whom he had the strongest feelings of natural affection. We, his followers, are called to remain true to the Lord’s direction, his guidance, his vision and values, even if that means for us what it meant for him, finding ourselves at odds with those who are nearest and dearest to us.

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

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

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

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

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[loneberry]

Poetry, therefore, is not what we simply recognize as the formal “poem,” but a revolt: a scream in the night, an emancipation of language and old ways of thinking.

[Currently re-reading one of my favorite books of all time--Robin D. G. Kelley’s Freedom Dreams: The Black Radical Imagination--for an essay I am writing on the prison abolitionist imagination. Here is the first chapter.]

“WHEN HISTORY SLEEPS”: A BEGINNING

When history sleeps, it speaks in dreams: on the brow of the sleeping people, the poem is a constellation of blood…. --Octavio Paz, “Toward the Poem”

My mother has a tendency to dream out loud. I think it has something to do with her regular morning meditation. In the quiet darkness of her bedroom her third eye opens onto a new world, a beautiful light-filled place as peaceful as her state of mind. She never had to utter a word to describe her inner peace; like morning sunlight, it radiated out to everyone in her presence. My mother knows this, which is why for the past two decades she has taken the name Ananda (“bliss”). Her other two eyes never let her forget where we lived. The cops, drug dealers, social workers, the rusty tapwater, roaches and rodents, the urine-scented hallways, and the piles of garbage were constant reminders that our world began and ended in a battered Harlem/Washington Heights tenement apartment on 157th and Amsterdam.

Yet she would not allow us to live as victims. Instead, we were a family of caretakers who inherited this earth. We were expected to help any living creature in need, even if that meant giving up our last piece of bread. Strange, needy people always passed through our house, occasionally staying for long stretches of time. (My mom once helped me bring home a New York City pigeon with a broken leg in a failed effort to nurse her back to health!) We were expected to stand apart from the crowd and befriend the misfits, to embrace the kids who stuttered, smelled bad, or had holes in their clothes. My mother taught us that the Marvelous was free—in the patterns of a stray bird feather, in a Hudson River sunset, in the view from our fire escape, in the stories she told us, in the way she sang Gershwin’s “Summertime,” in a curbside rainbow created by the alchemy of motor oil and water from an open hydrant. She simply wanted us to live through our third eyes, to see life as possibility. She wanted us to imagine a world free of patriarchy, a world where gender and sexual relations could be reconstructed. She wanted us to see the poetic and prophetic in the richness of our daily lives. She wanted us to visualize a more expansive, fluid, “cosmos-politan” definition of blackness, to teach us that we are not merely inheritors of a culture but its makers.

So with her eyes wide open my mother dreamed and dreamed some more, describing what life could be for us. She wasn’t talking about a postmortem world, some kind of heaven or afterlife; and she was not speaking of reincarnation (which she believes in, by the way). She dreamed of land, a spacious house, fresh air, organic food, and endless meadows without boundaries, free of evil and violence, free of toxins and environmental hazards, free of poverty, racism, and sexism … just free. She never talked about how we might create such a world, nor had she connected her vision to any political ideology. But she convinced my siblings and me that change is possible and that we didn’t have to be stuck there forever.

The idea that we could possibly go somewhere that exists only in our imaginations—that is, “nowhere”—is the classic definition of utopia. Call me utopian, but I inherited my mother’s belief that the map to a new world is in the imagination, in what we see in our third eyes rather than in the desolation that surrounds us. Now that I look back with hindsight, my writing and the kind of politics to which I’ve been drawn have more to do with imagining a different future than being pissed off about the present. Not that I haven’t been angry, frustrated, and critical of the misery created by race, gender, and class oppression—past and present. That goes without saying. My point is that the dream of a new world, my mother’s dream, was the catalyst for my own political engagement. I came to black nationalism filled with idealistic dreams of a communal society free of all oppressions, a world where we owned the land and shared the wealth and white folks were out of sight and out of mind. It was what I imagined precolonial Africa to be. Sure, I was naive, still in my teens, but my imaginary portrait, derived from the writings of Cheikh Anta Diop, Chancellor Williams, Julius Nyerere, Kwame Nkrumah, Kwame Ture, and others, gave me a sense of hope and possibility of what a postcolonial Africa could look like.

Very quickly, I learned that the old past wasn’t as glorious, peaceful, or communal as I had thought—though I still believe that it was many times better than what we found when we got to the Americas. The stories from the former colonies—whether Mobutu’s Zaire, Amin’s Uganda, or Forbes Burnham’s Guyana—dashed most of my expectations about what it would take to achieve real freedom. In college, like all the other neophyte revolutionaries influenced by events in southern Africa, El Salvador and Nicaragua, Cuba and Grenada, I studied Third World liberation movements and postemancipation societies in the hope of discovering different visions of freedom born out of the circumstances of struggle. I looked in vain for glimmers of a new society, in the “liberated zones” of Portugal’s African colonies during the wars of independence, in Maurice Bishop’s “New Jewel” movement in Grenada, in Guyana’s tragically short-lived nineteenth-century communal villages, in the brief moment when striking workers of Congo-Brazzaville momentarily seized state power and were poised to establish Africa’s first workers’ state. Granted, all these movements crashed against the rocks, wrecked by various internal and external forces, but they left behind at least some kind of vision, however fragmented or incomplete, of what they wanted their world to look like.

Like most of my comrades active in the early days of the Reagan era, I turned to Marxism for the same reasons I looked to the Third World. The misery of the proletariat (lumpen and otherwise) proved less interesting and less urgent than the promise of revolution. I was attracted to “small c” communism because, in theory, it sought to harness technology to solve human needs, give us less work and more leisure, and free us all to create, invent, explore, love, relax, and enjoy life without want of the basic necessities of life. My big sister Makani and I used to preach to others about the end of money; the withering away of poverty, property, and the state; and the destruction of the material basis for racism and patriarchy. I fell in love with the young Marx of The German Ideology and The Communist Manifesto, the visionary Marx who predicted the abolition of all exploitative institutions. I followed young Marx, via the late English historian Edward P. Thompson, to those romantic renegade socialists like William Morris who wanted to break with all vestiges of capitalist production and rationalization. Morris was less concerned with socialist efficiency than with transforming social relations and constructing new, free, democratic communities built on, as Thompson put it, “the ethic of cooperation, the energies of love.”

There are very few contemporary political spaces where the energies of love and imagination are understood and respected as powerful social forces. The socialists, utopian and scientific, had little to say about this, so my search for an even more elaborate, complete dream of freedom forced me to take a more imaginative turn. Thanks to many wonderful chance encounters with Franklin and Penelope Rosemont, Ted Joans, Laura Corsiglia, and Jayne Cortez, I discovered surrealism, not so much in the writings and doings of André Breton or Louis Aragon or other leaders of the surrealist movement that emerged in Paris after World War I, but under my nose, so to speak, buried in the rich, black soil of Afrodiasporic culture. In it I found a most miraculous weapon with no birth date, no expiration date, no trademark. I traced the Marvelous from the ancient practices of Maroon societies and shamanism back to the future, to the metropoles of Europe, to the blues people of North America, to the colonized and semicolonized world that produced the likes of Aimé and Suzanne Césaire and Wifredo Lam. The surrealists not only taught me that any serious motion toward freedom must begin in the mind, but they have also given us some of the most imaginative, expansive, and playful dreams of a new world I have ever known. Contrary to popular belief, surrealism is not an aesthetic doctrine but an international revolutionary movement concerned with the emancipation of thought. According to the Chicago Surrealist Group, 

Surrealism is the exaltation of freedom, revolt, imagination and love. . . . Its basic aim is to lessen and eventually to completely resolve the contradiction between everyday life and our wildest dreams. By definition subversive, surrealist thought and action are intended not only to discredit and destroy the forces of re- pression, but also to emancipate desire and supply it with new poetic weapons. . . . Beginning with the abolition of imaginative slavery, it advances to the creation of a free society in which everyone will be a poet—a society in which everyone will be able to develop his or her potentialities fully and freely.

Members of the Surrealist Group in Madrid, for example, see their work as an intervention in life rather than literature, a protracted battle against all forms of oppression that aims to replace “suspicion, fear and anger with curiosity, adventure and desire” and “a model space for collective living—a space from which separation and isolation are banished forever.”

The surrealists are talking about total transformation of society, not just granting aggrieved populations greater political and economic power. They are speaking of new social relationships, new ways of living and interacting, new attitudes toward work and leisure and community. In this respect, they share much with radical feminists whose revolutionary vision extended into every aspect of social life. Radical feminists taught us that there is nothing natural or inevitable about gender roles, male dominance, the overrepresentation of men in positions of power, or the tendency of men to use violence as a means to resolve conflict. Radical feminists of color, in particular, reveal how race, gender, and class work in tandem to subordinate most of society while complicating easy notions of universal sisterhood or biological arguments that establish men as the universal enemy. Like all the other movements that caught my attention, radical feminism, as well as the ideas emerging out of the lesbian and gay movements, proved attractive not simply for their critiques of patriarchy but for their freedom dreams. The work of these movements taken as a whole interrogates what is “normal”; shows us how the state and official culture polices our behavior with regard to sexuality, gender roles, and social relationships; and encourages us to construct a politics rooted in desire.

Black intellectuals associated with each of these movements not only imagined a different future, but in many instances their emancipatory vision proved more radical and inclusive than what their compatriots proposed.* Indeed, throughout the book I argue that these renegade black intellectuals/activists/artists challenged and reshaped communism, surrealism, and radical feminism, and in so doing produced brilliant theoretical insights that might have pushed these movements in new directions. In most cases, however, the critical visions of black radicals were held at bay, if not completely marginalized. Of course, there are many people still struggling to realize these dreams—extending, elaborating, and refining their vision as the battle wears on. This book is about those dreams of freedom; it is merely a brief, idiosyncratic outline of a history of black radical imagination in the twentieth century. I don’t pretend to have written anything approaching a movement history or an intellectual history, and I am not interested in explaining why these dreams of revolution have not succeeded (yet!). Rather, I simply want to explore the different ways self-proclaimed renegades imagined life after the revolution and where their ideas came from. Although Freedom Dreams is no memoir, it is a very personal book. It is loosely organized around my own political journey, around the dreams I once shared or still share—from the dreams of an African utopia to the surreal world of our imagination, from the communist and feminist dreams of abolishing all forms of exploitation to the four-hundred-year-old dream of payback for slavery and Jim Crow.

My purpose in writing this book is simply to reopen a very old conversation about what kind of world we want to struggle for. I’m not the only one interested in the work of dreaming—obviously there are many activists and thinkers having this conversation right now, ranging from my sister Makani Themba-Nixon, Cornel West, and Lian and Eric Mann to Cleveland’s Norma Jean Freeman and Don Freeman, Newark’s Amina and Amiri Baraka, and Detroit’s Grace Lee Boggs, to name but a few. For decades, these and other folks have dared to talk openly of revolution and dream of a new society, sometimes creating cultural works that enable communities to envision what’s possible with collective action, personal self-transformation, and will.

I did not write this book for those traditional leftists who have traded in their dreams for orthodoxy and sectarianism. Most of those folks are hopeless, I’m sad to say. And they will be the first to dismiss this book as utopian, idealistic, and romantic. Instead, I wrote it for anyone bold enough still to dream, especially young people who are growing up in what critic Henry Giroux perceptively calls “the culture of cynicism”—young people whose dreams have been utterly coopted by the marketplace. In a world where so many youth believe that “getting paid” and living ostentatiously was the goal of the black freedom movement, there is little space to even discuss building a radical democratic public culture. Too many young people really believe that this is the best we can do. Young faces, however, have been popping up en masse at the antiglobalization demonstrations beginning in Seattle in 1999, and the success of the college antisweatshop campaign No Sweat owes much of its success to a growing number of radicalized students. The Black Radical Congress, launched in 1997, has attracted hundreds of activists under age twenty-five, and so has the campaign to free Mumia Abu-Jamal. So there is hope.

The question remains: What are today’s young activists dreaming about? We know what they are fighting against, but what are they fighting for? These are crucial questions, for one of the basic premises of this book is that the most powerful, visionary dreams of a new society don’t come from little think tanks of smart people or out of the atomized, individualistic world of consumer capitalism where raging against the status quo is simply the hip thing to do. Revolutionary dreams erupt out of political engagement; collective social movements are incubators of new knowledge. While this may seem obvious, I am increasingly surrounded by well-meaning students who want to be activists but exhibit anxiety about doing intellectual work. They often differentiate the two, positioning activism and intellectual work as inherently incompatible. They speak of the “real” world as some concrete wilderness overrun with violence and despair, and the university as if it were some sanitized sanctuary distant from actual people’s lives and struggles. At the other extreme, I have had students argue that the problems facing “real people” today can be solved by merely bridging the gap between our superior knowledge and people outside the ivy walls who simply do not have access to that knowledge. Unwitting advocates of a kind of “talented tenth” ideology of racial uplift, their stated goal is to “reach the people” with more “accessible” knowledge, to carry back to the ‘hood the information folks need to liberate themselves. While it is heartening to see young people excited about learning and cognizant of the political implications of knowledge, it worries me when they believe that simply “droppin’ science” on the people will generate new, liberatory social movements.

I am convinced that the opposite is true: Social movements generate new knowledge, new theories, new questions. The most radical ideas often grow out of a concrete intellectual engagement with the problems of aggrieved populations confronting systems of oppression. For example, the academic study of race has always been inextricably intertwined with political struggles. Just as imperialism, colonialism, and post-Reconstruction redemption politics created the intellectual ground for Social Darwinism and other manifestations of scientific racism, the struggle against racism generated cultural relativist and social constructionist scholarship on race. The great works by W. E. B. Du Bois, Franz Boas, Oliver Cox, and many others were invariably shaped by social movements as well as social crises such as the proliferation of lynching and the rise of fascism. Similarly, gender analysis was brought to us by the feminist movement, not simply by the individual genius of the Grimke sisters or Anna Julia Cooper, Simone de Beauvoir, or Audre Lorde. Thinking on gender and the possibility of transformation evolved largely in relationship to social struggle.

Progressive social movements do not simply produce statistics and narratives of oppression; rather, the best ones do what great poetry always does: transport us to another place, compel us to relive horrors and, more importantly, enable us to imagine a new society. We must remember that the conditions and the very existence of social movements enable participants to imagine something different, to realize that things need not always be this way. It is that imagination, that effort to see the future in the present, that I shall call “poetry” or “poetic knowledge.” I take my lead from Aimé Césaire’s great essay “Poetry and Knowledge,” first published in 1945. Opening with the simple but provocative proposition that “Poetic knowledge is born in the great silence of scientific knowledge,” he then demonstrates why poetry is the only way to achieve the kind of knowledge we need to move beyond the world’s crises. “What presides over the poem,” he writes, “is not the most lucid intelligence, the sharpest sensibility or the subtlest feelings, but experience as a whole.” This means everything, every history, every future, every dream, every life form from plant to animal, every creative impulse—plumbed from the depths of the unconscious. Poetry, therefore, is not what we simply recognize as the formal “poem,” but a revolt: a scream in the night, an emancipation of language and old ways of thinking. Consider Césaire’s third proposition regarding poetic knowledge: “Poetic knowledge is that in which man spatters the object with all of his mobilized riches.”

In the poetics of struggle and lived experience, in the utterances of ordinary folk, in the cultural products of social movements, in the reflections of activists, we discover the many different cognitive maps of the future, of the world not yet born. Recovering the poetry of social movements, however, particularly the poetry that dreams of a new world, is not such an easy task. For obvious reasons, what we are against tends to take precedence over what we are for, which is always a more complicated and ambiguous matter. It is a testament to the legacies of oppression that opposition is so frequently contained, or that efforts to find “free spaces” for articulating or even realizing our dreams are so rare or marginalized. George Lipsitz helps explain the problem when he writes in Dangerous Crossroads, “The desire to work through existing contradictions rather than stand outside them represents not so much a preference for melioristic reform over revolutionary change, but rather a recognition of the impossibility of standing outside totalitarian systems of domination.” Besides, even if we could gather together our dreams of a new world, how do we figure them out in a culture dominated by the marketplace? How can social movements actually reshape the desires and dreams of the participants?

Another problem, of course, is that such dreaming is often suppressed and policed not only by our enemies but by leaders of social movements themselves. The utopian visions of male nationalists or so-called socialists often depend on the suppression of women, of youth, of gays and lesbians, of people of color. Desire can be crushed by so-called revolutionary ideology. I don’t know how many times self-proclaimed leftists talk of universalizing “working-class culture,” focusing only on what they think is uplifting and politically correct but never paying attention to, say, the ecstatic. I remember attending a conference in Vermont about the future of socialism, where a bunch of us got into a fight with an older generation of white leftists who proposed replacing retrograde “pop” music with the revolutionary “working-class” music of Phil Ochs, Woody Guthrie, preelectric Bob Dylan, and songs from the Spanish Civil War. And there I was, comically screaming at the top of my lungs, “No way! After the revolution, we STILL want Bootsy! That’s right, we want Bootsy! We need the funk!”

Sometimes I think the conditions of daily life, of everyday oppressions, of survival, not to mention the temporary pleasures accessible to most of us, render much of our imagination inert. We are constantly putting out fires, responding to emergencies, finding temporary refuge, all of which make it difficult to see anything other than the present. As the great poet Keorapetse Kgositsile put it, “When the clouds clear / We shall know the colour of the sky.” When movements have been unable to clear the clouds, it has been the poets—no matter the medium—who have succeeded in imagining the color of the sky, in rendering the kinds of dreams and futures social movements are capable of producing. Knowing the color of the sky is far more important than counting clouds. Or to put it another way, the most radical art is not protest art but works that take us to another place, envision a different way of seeing, perhaps a different way of feeling. This is what poet Askia Muhammad Toure meant when, in a 1964 article in Liberator magazine, he called black rhythm-and-blues artists “poet philosophers” and described their music as a “potent weapon in the black freedom struggle.” For Toure, the “movement” was more than sit-ins at lunch counters, voter registration campaigns, and freedom rides; it was about self-transformation, changing the way we think, live, love, and handle pain. While the music frequently negatively mirrored the larger culture, it nonetheless helped generate community pride, challenged racial self-hatred, and built self-respect. It created a world of pleasure, not just to escape the everyday brutalities of capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy, but to build community, establish fellowship, play and laugh, and plant seeds for a different way of living, a different way of hearing. As Amiri Baraka put it in his famous essay, “The Changing Same,” black music has the potential to usher in a new future based on love: “The change to Love. The freedom to (of) Love.”

Freedom and love may be the most revolutionary ideas available to us, and yet as intellectuals we have failed miserably to grapple with their political and analytical importance. Despite having spent a decade and a half writing about radical social movements, I am only just beginning to see what animated, motivated, and knitted together these gatherings of aggrieved folk. I have come to realize that once we strip radical social movements down to their bare essence and understand the collective desires of people in motion, freedom and love lay at the very heart of the matter. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that freedom and love constitute the foundation for spirituality, another elusive and intangible force with which few scholars of social movements have come to terms. These insights were always there in the movements I’ve studied, but I was unable to see it, acknowledge it, or bring it to the surface. I hope this little book might be a beginning.

[pamphletstoinspire]

Our Universal Mother - Part 24

Our Lady of All Nations - Amsterdam

" Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Father, send now Your Spirit over the earth. Let the Holy Spirit live in the hearts of all nations, that they may be preserved from degeneration, disaster and war. May the Lady of All Nations, who once was Mary, be our Advocate". Amen.

Explanation of the Image

“This image is the interpretation and the illustration of the new dogma. This is why I myself have given this image to the peoples.” (December 8, 1952)

This image is one of the things that makes the apparitions of Amsterdam unique in the history of Marian apparitions. Our Lady herself came in six different apparitions to describe her image in detail to the visionary. She insisted again and again that the visionary look carefully and notice all the details. On several occasions Our Lady even corrected the way in which the image had been painted.

Our Lady then explained the significance of the entire image to the visionary:

Our Lady showed herself in Amsterdam as the co-redeeming mother standing firmly on the globe before the cross of her Son and surrounded by the flock of Christ made up of white and black sheep representing all nations. She appears as the Apocalyptic Woman; clothed with the light of the resurrection, in that light which comes the Cross of the Redeemer. She stands on the globe because she is the Lady and Mother of All Nations. Her face, hands, and feet are human, the rest of her is ‘as of the Spirit’ who has overshadowed her. As she once stood beneath the cross of Christ, so now in these times, in union with Him, she appeared standing before His Cross.

In the hands of Our Lady, the visionary saw mystical wounds. Through these, Mary illustrates the physical and spiritual suffering that she bore in union with her divine Son for the redemption of humanity. From the wound in each hand come forth three rays and shine upon the sheep below. “These are three rays, the rays of Grace, Redemption, and Peace.” (May 31, 1951) Grace from the Father, Redemption from the Son, and Peace from the Holy Spirit.

Regarding the sheep at the bottom of the globe, Our Lady said, “This image of the flock of sheep represents the nations of the whole world, who will not find rest until they lie down and in tranquility look up at the Cross, the center of this world.” (May 31, 1951)

“Abandon all of your egoism and vanity, and try to bring to the center, the Cross, all children and those who are still wandering around grazing.” (May 31, 1951) “I have firmly placed my feet upon the globe, for in this time the Father and the Son want to bring me into this world as Coredemptrix, Mediatrix and Advocate.” (May 31, 1951)

“Take the Cross and plant it in the centre! Only then will there be peace.” (Oct. 1, 1949)

It is also interesting to note that while the serpent was still visible on the Miraculous Medal, it is no longer visible in the image of the Coredemptrix, Mediatrix, and Advocate. This has a deep meaning: when Mary triumphs through the threefold dogma, and when all people understand the deep value and meaning of their suffering when it is offered up, Satan will finally be conquered.

THE PRAYER

In order to preserve us from disaster and threatening war, Our Lady gave a powerful prayer in Amsterdam which she called “her prayer” (May 31, 1955). Our Lady tells us something very important in relation to this, “From degeneration comes disaster. From degeneration comes war. Through my prayer you shall ask that this be staved off from the world.” (May 31, 1955)

During the first message, given on March 25, 1945, Our Lady already referred to her prayer, but it was not for another six years that Our Lady actually dictated the prayer to the visionary on February 11, 1951. During that vision Our Lady joined her hands, directed her gaze upward, and solemnly began to pray:

(Prayer on cover)

Alone the fact that Mary dictated her prayer during the vision of the Second Vatican Council is a clear allusion to the significance of the prayer for the Church and the world. The Lady of All Nations came to give us this prayer as an aid for all mankind.

WHO ONCE WAS MARY

Almost all who have come to know this prayer have difficulty with the formula “who once was Mary”. This should not be surprising since the first person to have problems understanding the sense of these words was the visionary herself, then her spiritual director, and finally her bishop who was supposed to give the imprimatur to the prayer. Therefore when the prayer was first printed, the bishop, despite liking the prayer, left out the formula in question so that the prayer simply said “May the Lady of All Nations be our advocate.”

Our Lady, however, stressed in the following message that she did not agree with the change in the prayer saying, “Tell the theologians that I am not satisfied with the alteration of the prayer. ‘May the Lady of All Nations, who once was Mary, be our Advocate’-that is to remain as it is.” (April 6, 1952)

After having this express wish of Our Lady presented to him, the bishop again allowed the phrase to be included.

Our Lady herself explained what this phrase means: “ ‘Who once was Mary’ means: many people have known Mary as Mary. Now, however, in this new era which is about to begin, I wish to be the Lady of All Nations.” (July 2, 1951) So, “who once was Mary” does not in any way mean that Our Lady can no longer be called Mary; after all, when we pray the Rosary, we do so often. Rather this means that our relationship to her she becomes more that of a child to its mother.

THE TITLE

“They will call me ‘The Lady’, ‘Mother’.” (March 25, 1945)

When Our Lady appeared in Amsterdam, she came under the new title ‘The Lady and Mother of All Nations’. On May 3, 1996, the two bishops of HaaremAmsterdam, Bishop Henrik Bomers and his Auxiliary bishop, Joseph Maria Punt, published a decree in which they officially allowed public veneration of Mary under the biblical title ‘The Lady of all Nations’.

By attentively reading the messages, one can see that this new title is actually the summation of a new three fold dogma that Our Lady asked for : the Coredemptrix, Mediatrix, and Advocate. To see this, one need only open the Holy Scriptures.

In the Bible, Mary is spoken of as “woman” four times, each time in a context which concerns her universal vocation of motherhood. (Please note that in the original Dutch, the word Vrouwe means both woman and lady. In translating the messages, the word lady was chosen, however woman appears in the Bible texts.) This woman is the Lady of All Nations who, united with the Redeemer, suffered as Coredemptrix for all nations. As Mediatrix, she mediates the life of grace to all nations, and as Advocate, she intercedes for all nations before God and defends us from Satan.

OUR LADY SAID THE FOLLOWING ABOUT THIS TITLE

“The Lady of All Nations will be allowed to bring peace to the world. Yet she must be asked for it under this title.” (Oct. 11, 1953)

“Under this title she will save the world.” (March 20, 1953)

"Under this title she may deliver the world from a great world castastrophe.”(May 10, 1953)

“The Lady of All Nations wishes to be brought among everyone, no matter who or what they are. This is why she received this title from her Lord and Master.” (Dec. 31, 1951)

“The Lady of All Nations stands in the middle of the world before the cross. She comes under this name as the Coredemptrix, Mediatrix and Advocate, in this time. She will be taken up into Marian history under this title.” (Dec. 31, 1951)

“...the Lady of All Nations is here, everywhere, to help you. For she is the Coredemptrix, Mediatrix and Advocate. This will be the final dogma. Work on it promptly and quickly. The Lady of All Nations promises to help the world if it acknowledges this title, if it invokes her under this title.” (Dec. 8, 1952)

The title ‘Lady and Mother of All Nations’ expresses then in a unique way the world-encompassing vocation of Mary for all nations, for all continents, for all races and religious faiths-for she is truly the Mother of All Nations. She loves all her children, whether they want her to or not. She loves all her children, whether they know it or not.

These apparitions began on March 25, 1945 in Amsterdam on the Feast of the Annunciation. A woman, Ida Peerdman, and her three sisters were at home, seated around a pot-bellied stove. A priest, a friend of the family, stopped by for a visit. While they were engaged in lively conversation, something extraordinary happened. Ida, the youngest of the four sisters, noticed something in the adjoining room. She got up and saw an immense light appearing, and her surroundings seemed to fade away. From the light she saw a female figure come forth, dressed in white, who began to speak to her.

This was the first of a series of fifty-six apparitions which have become known as ‘The Messages of the Lady of All Nations’. The last message, a majestic farewell vision, would be received fourteen years later, on May 31, 1959.

Apparitions reported between 1945-1959 by Ida Peerdeman. In May 2002 Bishop Jozef Marianus Punt of Haarlem-Amsterdam issued a letter that declared this apparition as having supernatural origin. However, this apparition has not been officially approved by the Holy See, and has approval only at the local bishop level.

[a-woman-apart]

I Don’t Need a Savior

Before I get into my topic, I thought I'd just give another quick update about what's been going on. My parents did end up sending me the title, and I'm getting a friend from work to drive me up to the shop where I can drop it off and sign the paper work. Once again, the things that I was worried about have turned out to be non-issues. Friends have been overwhelmingly supportive of me during these difficult times.

In times like these, it's easy to want to "blame" good fortune- as well as misfortunes- on something esoteric and otherworldly. Today, I went to a church with an aquarium, a restaurant, and an elaborately designed sanctuary. Everyone was very welcoming and was always saying "Jesus loves you." The pastor made it a point to say things like, "The reason why you're going through trials is because you're on assignment" and "People aren't against you, they're against the Jesus that they see in you." He tied the reception- or the lack thereof- that Christians receive in the world to their relationship with the Christ figure. He blamed some troubles on the Devil ("The Devil won't steal my joy!").

When the pastor kept asking congregants to say "Jesus loves you" to one another, I'll admit that eventually I just gave in rather than be the awkward one in the room. I justified it by saying that if Jesus really were alive in heaven, and the sin-defeating, healer/miracle worker that the Bible described, we really could say "Jesus loves you." During the first songs- which were popular gospel tunes- I started to feel emotional because I couldn't help but think of how much my mother would've loved that church. I had a sense that that church was a real community, centered around a love for- and perceived love from- Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

I don't know if they perform the same outreach ministries that my church does, but I'm sure that they do a great deal. In fact, a large portion of the pastor's sermon was about how Christians "aren't in the life-saving business anymore." How once, Christians cared about whether people "got saved", but then they became more concerned with how much they loved the sanctuary, the ushers, and most of what was happening within the four walls. They lost their vision and their desire to reach out to people outside of the church community. He talked about "sins of the spirit" like "pride", "a superior attitude" and "impatient words."

"Reaching the lost" is considered by most churches to be a huge part- if not the ultimate goal- of their ministry. This doesn't just mean feeding the hungry, rehabilitating people, and visiting people in hospitals and prisons. It primarily regards a call to conversion, to seeing people "turn away from useless idols to serve the living God" (1 Thessalonians 1:9). This part of Christianity that is so essential to its creed is what I take the most issue with. The idea that we're lost or depraved is the one that I have most come to reject. I also reject the idea of a God with astounding abilities who chooses to remain largely indifferent to the sufferings of humanity. If I believe that God is omniscient and omnipotent, and his primary mission for us is to bring people into the faith, I must also accept that he is responsible for their state of unbelief and depravity to begin with.

Paul's epistle to the Romans, in fact, addresses this very conundrum. In it Paul admits that in the Old Testament account, God is said to have hardened Pharoah's heart. He then goes on to address the question of how God could rightly judge anyone, if he was responsible for whether they obeyed or disobeyed him in the first place. Paul is rather condescending and dismissive in his response, saying "Who are you to reply against God? Shall the one formed say to him that formed it, 'Why have you made me this way?'" He also said that God had "vessels of mercy" and "vessels of destruction" and was free to show his favor to one, and display his wrath and power through the other.

I don't know about you, but I choose not to believe that I'm simply a puppet on a string being jerked around in a contest of wills between God and the Devil (or maybe even just God and Himself). I also don't believe that even if God were all-powerful, that he would be given to such a mercurial and unstable temperment- especially not if he were also all-knowing and could fully comprehended human frailties. Some people could argue that I'm just trying to turn God into a god that satisfies my human sensibilities, but I don't see how that's any different from what people have been claiming about God(s) for hundreds of years. Whether people believe it or not, the concept of God is interpreted differently by each person. He's vengeful to one, all-merciful to another one. To some there is one God, but to others, there are multiple deities. Since we seem incapable of reaching a consensus, I am going to say that it is perfectly acceptable for me to create my own concept of what God is like, as well as my own way of approaching him/her/it.

Right now, though, I don't feel that I need a savior. I don't need to be saved from my sins. I'm just a human being in a world of many other human beings, trying to make the best life for myself that I am capable of. In the Christian community it's considered cool to brag about your imperfections, that you're " a work in progress" or in the "process of sanctification" or on the "journey of holiness." There's nothing wrong with that, but if we're really all sinners, regardless of whether we're "saved" or not, then maybe "salvation" doesn't really make you any different from anybody else. Maybe believing in a set of "facts" about a man who died over 2000 years ago doesn't make you holy. I think we're all in the same boat here, and that we all need to work together to make this world a better place. If religion is what inspires you to do good for your fellow man, then I can't say that there's anything wrong with that. If you choose to do good because you think it's right and it makes you feel happy, then that is just as well. Let's just not judge each other because of having different motivations.

The more I go to church, the more I feel a profound sense of loss at the community that I used to be a part of, but the more I also feel grateful for the path that I'm currently walking. As a person who still feels connected in some ways to Christianity, but cannot bring herself to accept the core doctrines of her former denomination(s), I often find myself in that dry place that Bishop John Shelby Spong accurately termed "the Exile." I have a profound respect for the Jesus of the Bible, but I cannot bring myself to feel comforted when people say "Jesus loves you." I do not feel convinced of the existence of hell or heaven- for all I know, when I die, I am no more. Even so, I know that I'll live on in the memory of those people who loved me. I know that even though I've lost a lot with what I've decided, hopefully I've gained just that much more. I know that life is more about the journey than the final destinaton.

[pope-francis-quotes]

1st December >> Pope Francis addresses interreligious meeting for peace (Photo ~ Pope Francis blesses a Rohingya orphan girl during an Interreligious and Ecumenical Meeting for Peace in Dhaka - EPA) (Vatican Radio) Pope Francis on Friday greeted and blessed a group of Rohingya Muslim refugees who fled to Bangladesh from neighboring Myanmar. The moving meeting took place during an Interreligious and Ecumenical Meeting for Peace in the garden of the Archbishop of Dhaka’s residence. The meeting, which saw the participation of representatives of different faiths, took place on the second day of the Pope’s Apostolic Journey to Bangladesh. The 16 Rohingya - 12 men, two women and two young girls - traveled to Dhaka from Cox's Bazar, the district bordering Myanmar where refugee camps are overflowing with more than 620,000 Rohingya who have fled violence in Myanmar. One by one, each one of the refugees approached the Pope at the end of the event and through the aid of an interpreter told him their stories and their experiences. During his address to the religious leaders at the meeting, the Pope said a spirit of openness is fundamental for building a culture of harmony and peace: (Report by Chris Wells) Please find below the official English translation of the Pope's speech: Distinguished Guests, Dear Friends, Our meeting, which brings together representatives of the various religious communities present in this country, represents a highly significant moment in my Visit to Bangladesh. For we have gathered to deepen our friendship and to express our shared desire for the gift of genuine and lasting peace. My thanks go to Cardinal D’Rozario for his kind words of welcome, and to those who have greeted me warmly on behalf of the Muslim, Hindu and Buddhist communities, and in the name of the civil authorities. I am grateful to the Anglican bishop of Dhaka for his presence, to the various Christian communities, and to all those whose have helped to make this gathering possible. The words we have heard, but also the songs and dances that have enlivened our assembly, have spoken to us eloquently of the yearning for harmony, fraternity and peace embodied in the teachings of the world’s religions. May our meeting this afternoon be a clear sign of the efforts of the leaders and followers of the religions present in this country to live together in mutual respect and good will. In Bangladesh, where the right to religious freedom is a founding principle, this commitment stands as a subtle yet firm rebuke to those who would seek to foment division, hatred and violence in the name of religion. It is a particularly gratifying sign of our times that believers and all people of good will feel increasingly called to cooperate in shaping a culture of encounter, dialogue and cooperation in the service of our human family. This entails more than mere tolerance. It challenges us to reach out to others in mutual trust and understanding, and so to build a unity that sees diversity not as a threat, but as a potential source of enrichment and growth. It challenges us to cultivate an openness of heart that views others as an avenue, not a barrier. Allow me to explore with you briefly some essential features of this “openness of heart” that is the condition for a culture of encounter. First, it is a door. It is not an abstract theory but a lived experience. It enables us to embark on a dialogue of life, not a mere exchange of ideas. It calls for good will and acceptance, yet it is not to be confused with indifference or reticence in expressing our most deeply held convictions. To engage fruitfully with another means sharing our distinct religious and cultural identity, but always with humility, honesty and respect. Openness of heart is also like a ladder that reaches up to the Absolute. By recalling this transcendent dimension of our activity, we realize the need for our hearts to be purified, so that we can see all things in their truest perspective. As with each step our vision becomes clearer, we receive the strength to persevere in the effort to understand and value others and their point of view. In this way, we will find the wisdom and strength needed to extend the hand of friendship to all. Openness of heart is likewise a path that leads to the pursuit of goodness, justice and solidarity. It leads to seeking the good of our neighbours. In his letter to the Christians in Rome, Saint Paul urged his hearers: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom 12:21). This is a sentiment that all of us can echo. Religious concern for the welfare of our neighbour, streaming from an open heart, flows outward like a vast river, to quench the dry and parched wastelands of hatred, corruption, poverty and violence that so damage human lives, tear families apart, and disfigure the gift of creation. Bangladesh’s different religious communities have embraced this path in a particular way by their commitment to the care of the earth, our common home, and by their response to the natural disasters that have beset the nation in recent years. I think too of the common outpouring of grief, prayer and solidarity that accompanied the tragic collapse of Rana Plaza, which remains fresh in the minds of all. In these various ways, we see how the path of goodness leads to cooperation in the service of others. A spirit of openness, acceptance and cooperation between believers does not simply contribute to a culture of harmony and peace; it is its beating heart. How much our world needs this heart to beat strongly, to counter the virus of political corruption, destructive religious ideologies, and the temptation to turn a blind eye to the needs of the poor, refugees, persecuted minorities, and those who are most vulnerable. How much, too, is such openness needed in order to reach out to the many people in our world, especially the young, who at times feel alone and bewildered as they search for meaning in life! Dear friends, I thank you for your efforts to promote the culture of encounter, and I pray that, by demonstrating the common commitment of believers to discerning the good and putting it into practice, they will help all believers to grow in wisdom and holiness, and to cooperate in building an ever more humane, united and peaceful world. I open my own heart to all of you, and I thank you once more for your welcome. Let us remember one another in our prayers.

[seekfirstme]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2020. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: How do we achieve success and victory in our lives? In everyone's life there are key moments or turning points on which the whole of one's life hinges. The mounting confrontation between the Pharisees and Jesus was such a decisive event and crisis. The religious leaders became intolerant of Jesus because of their prejudice. Nothing that Jesus would do or say from this point on would be right in their eyes. They conspired, not simply to oppose Jesus but to eliminate him.

Courage and determination to do God's will

Jesus met this defiance with courage and determination to do his Father's will. He used the crisis to teach his disciples an important lesson for God's way to success and victory. The only way to glory in God's kingdom is through the cross - the cross of suffering and humiliation - which Jesus endured for our sake and for our salvation. We, too, are called to take up our cross every day - to die to sin, selfishness, envy, pride, strife, and hatred - and to lay down our lives in humble service and love for one another, just as Jesus did for our sake.

Matthew quotes from the "Suffering Servant" prophecies of Isaiah to explain how Jesus the Messiah would accomplish his mission - not through crushing power - but through love and sacrificial service (Isaiah 42:1-4). In place of a throne Jesus chose to mount the cross and wear a crown of thorns. He was crucified as our Lord and King (John 19:19; Philippians 2:11) There is no greater proof of God's love for us than the sacrificial death of his only begotten Son for our sake and our salvation (John 3:16).

Jesus died not only for the Jews but for all the Gentile nations as well. Isaiah had prophesied centuries before, that the Messiah would bring justice to the Gentiles. To the Greek mind, justice involved giving to God and to one's fellow citizen that which is their due (whatever is owed to them). Jesus taught his disciples to give God not only his due, but to love him without measure just as he loves us unconditionally - without limits or reservation.

Justice tempered with love and mercy

Jesus brings the justice of God's kingdom tempered with divine love and mercy. He does not bruise the weak or treat them with contempt, but rather shows understanding and compassion. He does not discourage the fainthearted but gives hope, courage, and the strength to persevere through trying circumstances. No trials, failings, and weaknesses can keep us from the mercy and help which Jesus offers to everyone who asks. His grace is sufficient for every moment, every situation, and every challenge we face. When you meet trials and difficulties, do you rely on God's help and grace?

"Lord Jesus, your love and mercy knows no bounds. Give me strength when I am weak, hope when I am discouraged, peace when I am troubled, consolation when I am sad, and understanding when I am perplexed. Make me an instrument of your love and peace to those who are troubled and without hope."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2020.

IS GOD HIDING?

“When the Pharisees were outside they began to plot against [Jesus] to find a way to destroy Him. Jesus was aware of this, and so He withdrew from that place.” —Matthew 12:14-15

The popular poem, “Footsteps,” expresses the anguish of the psalmist: “Why, O Lord, do You stand aloof? Why hide in times of distress?” (Ps 10:1) We look to God for help, and He seems to withdraw from us (see Mt 12:15). We are oppressed and in dire straits, and cry out to God for aid. Yet instead of strong action, God seems to do nothing and things get worse for us (see Ps 10:8-11). Why does it sometimes seem that God is withdrawing from us (see Mt 12:15) in our time of great need? Even Jesus Himself felt as if God had abandoned Him in His ultimate agony on the cross (Mk 15:34).

As the above poem mentions, Jesus is carrying us in these situations even though all we can perceive is that He has abandoned us. We feel like saying: “The Lord has forsaken me; my Lord has forgotten me” (Is 49:14). However, God’s response to us is: “Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you” (Is 49:15).

When Job in his misery questioned God’s care for him, God did not answer Job. Instead, He granted Job something better: a vision of His glory (Jb 38:1). Job was then content in His suffering because He knew God was with him. Only after that did God restore Job (Jb 42:10).

No, God is not hiding. He is Emmanuel, God with us (Mt 1:23). Pray: Lord, “I do believe! Help my lack of trust!” (Mk 9:24)

Prayer:  Father, help me to be patient and hopeful in time of suffering. I will “hope in silence for [Your] saving help” (Lam 3:26).

Promise:  “I will endow Him with My Spirit and He will proclaim justice to the Gentiles.” —Mt 12:18

Praise:  St. Camillus was a soldier and gambler. Converting to Christ, he served the dying as both layman and priest.

Reference:  (This teaching was submitted by a member of our editorial team.)

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