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franniebanana · 3 years

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CQL Rewatch - Episode 10

Confession time: I don’t like Xue Yang. I appreciate him for all his villain-y villain-ness, but I don’t like the character. I find him kind of annoying in this series, because they just have him so over-the-top nasty all the time. He’s like a caricature of a person. Granted, I haven’t watched the Yi City arc, because, as I think I said before, I read it and once was enough. So the other thing that kind of bothers me here is that we have two villains vying for screen time: Xue Yang and Wen Chao (Wen Chao obviously gets more)—and I guess it’s a bit much. Like, it’s not enough that Wen Chao is on their heels, trying to get the Yin Iron from them, so we need to add this scene where they watch someone else fight Xue Yang. That’s another thing that’s kind of goofy. Why put Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji in this scene at all when they barely do anything? Wei Wuxian uses Binding/Bonding to stop Xue Yang from getting away, but that’s the only real contribution.

See? This is what they do for the first ten minutes of the episode. This could have been told to them or shown in a flashback easily. Easily. There’s other things we see in flashbacks that are arguably more important than this capturing of Xue Yang and introduction to Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan. With a lot of things, I’m like, if it was good enough in the book, then it’s good enough in CQL. At a certain point, I have to wonder if they just felt like they needed a fight scene in every episode. Director/writers were like, we gave you that scene with the chicken, now let’s get back to the action scenes! This is my personal preference, but I don’t mind being told some things, versus being shown everything. Like, it’s okay to hide some things from the audience so that they payoff is better at the time its revealed. (I will be forever bitter about how the headband meaning was revealed right away—that was such a great moment in the book, and I feel like CQL robbed the audience of that).

I feel like this is the only part in the whole series where they hint at anyone being gay, and it comes in the form of Xue Yang accusing Wei Ying of touching him inappropriately (basically, I’m not going back to check the subtitles). It would have been funny for Wei Ying to kind of play along with that, but censorship (rip)—I do like his line about how no one can best him in being cheeky, though.

I’ve never been happier to see Nie Huaisang, because that means we’re finally moving on to something else. Woohoo! Let’s go to Qinghe!

I like here how the distinction is made between people who are in clans and people who aren’t. I also like the set-up of how WangXian is similar to Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan: we cultivate together because we have similar goals and ethics, and that they are respected doing that.

And it’s interesting how Jiang Cheng says how it’s an honor to meet those two, but when Wei Wuxian says that he and Lan Wangji went on a night hunt for the same reasons, Jiang Cheng scorns them. He implies such a thing is enough to not let him back into Lotus Cove. I guess he doesn’t extend that same courtesy to Wei Wuxian, which is not surprising. I really like Jiang Cheng as a character, but he struggles with having good relationships. His interpersonal skills aren’t great. I mean, just look at him at the end—irreconcilable damage has been done to his relationship with Wei Wuxian. Can they be civil to each other? Of course! Do I think they’re really ever going to be friends and brothers again? I sincerely doubt it. And this isn’t all Jiang Cheng’s fault or anything; I think it’s mutual, and both of them parted on good terms, but the understanding is that they may never cross paths again. Honestly, that’s what I like about Jiang Cheng—I like that he’s complicated and is stubborn and his pride is important to him; I like that he’s jealous and will hold a grudge forever—that’s what makes him interesting to me. And I love the theme that choices were made, and you can’t go back to how things were. I love that this series/book shows that blood isn’t thicker than water, that sometimes it isn’t enough just to be family—that there are things that can destroy those kinds of bonds, but that that isn’t the end. You can start over—and if anyone gets to start over, it’s certainly Wei Wuxian. Went off on a tangent there, sorry.

I like how much they act like friends here. It’s just so relaxed, so intimate. Just the two of them, because all the others have walked away, including Jiang Cheng. If I didn’t know the story, I’d be wondering why it seemed like Wei Wuxian is closer to Lan Wangji than Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng scoffs at him, while Lan Wangji embraces Wei Wuxian’s words, and he’s only known him six months or so. It’s quite telling. I’m glad I’m rewatching this, because there are so many moments I’ve forgotten about that are really nice (I’ve watched the special edition cut about twice, and a lot is cut out, as you know).

Another moment I forgot about: Wei Wuxian standing up for Xue Yang. Not, of course, because he thinks he’s a good man, but because he doesn’t think they should execute a man when they don’t have all the facts. I like the contrast between his way of thinking and Nie Mingjue’s, who is quick to anger, stressed out, and ready to take everything out on Xue Yang. It’s understandable that he wants to just end Xue Yang, considering the threats from the Wen Clan, plus word on the street is that Xue Yang murdered an entire clan, albeit a small one. Nie Mingjue is worried about his own clan, not to mention the Gusu Lan Clan, who he specifically asks about when greeting Lan Wangji. He feels the impending threat from the Wen Clan and he’s not about to take it lying down.

And then you have Wei Wuxian defending a man who in his eyes is innocent until proven guilty. Like I said earlier, I think they all know Xue Yang murdered all those people, but I do like the fact that Wei Wuxian tries to push Nie Mingjue into making a more reasonable choice: waiting until they have all the facts. It’s a nice foreshadowing of what’s to come with Wei Wuxian himself, where most people aren’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Look at that smile! aldslkf

Okay, so first Lan Wangji hears something on his roof, so he grabs Bichen and prepares for a fight. Then he hears Wei Wuxian mumbling drunkenly about how the tiles are rougher in Qinghe than in Gusu, and that little smile forms on his lips. It’s so quick—blink and you’ll miss it. His expression is so soft, so warm, so gentle. Think about this—six months ago, he would have leapt on that roof to go fight Wei Wuxian, and now his reaction is this honeyed smile, reserved at this point only for Wei Wuxian. I mean, have you seen him smile for anyone else? Okay, fine—he smiled at the rabbits too. So the great Lan Wangji only smiles for bunnies and Wei Wuxian.

And I think he really regrets leaving like this. They’ve built up this relationship—this rapport—with one another, and Lan Wangji ends up leaving in the night, basically without a word. Wei Wuxian is too drunk to even know he’s there (if I’m not mistaken, Wei Wuxian calls for him, thinking that’s he’s still inside). Lan Wangji doesn’t know what’s ahead—everything is uncertain: the Wen Clan has ordered all major clans to send one inner disciple to be indoctrinated immediately, there is the issue of the Yin Iron (and Lan Wangji still has a piece of it), not to mention people like Xue Yang who might be roaming around causing trouble on the Wens’ behalf. Lan Wangji is certainly fearful for his home and his people, worried about the Yin Iron going to the wrong hands, likely worried about Wei Wuxian just in general, and regretting leaving him high and dry. This is such a sad moment, and maybe it’s just me feeling that way. It always leaves me with a lump in my throat. I also think it mirrors a later scene where Lan Wangji is on the roof and Wei Wuxian is leaving.

Also that fucking wangxian.mp3 playing in the background for this whole part—of course I’m going to get emotional!

Perfect response: Wasn’t me!

I mean, couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy, though. The captain was such an asshole, and I don’t blame Jin Guangyao one bit for what he did. That man emotionally and verbally abused him I’m sure on a daily basis. Not saying that murder is the answer to your problems, but in this made-up fantasy world that is CQL/MDZS, that guy fucking deserved it.

I also like how even though Nie Mingjue is super pissed and upset by what Jin Guangyao did, he still catches him when he gets run through, and he’s absolutely torn up about banishing him. It’s pretty powerful when it cuts back to him in his idk throne room (whatever you’d call that, I know it’s not a throne room, whatever) and everything is smashed up. Like, this man is enraged. The last thing he wanted to do was banish Jin Guangyao, but he had to. He couldn’t keep a man like that around. Jin Guangyao, by murdering the captain, had lost Nie Mingjue’s trust. Not to mention, who let Xue Yang out? Was it Jin Guangyao? Nie Mingjue doesn’t know; in his mind, Jin Guangyao could have been responsible for that too.

So, I actually really don’t like this. Wen Chao has already spilled the beans on the “evil Gusu Lan Clan” earlier, implying that they did, in fact, stand up to the Wens, and now he says outright that they sent forces to Gusu to burn the place to the ground. I hate that they tell us this! It’s so much better in the book when you don’t know what’s going on until Wei Wuxian finds out at the indoctrination! This is one of the most annoying things about Untamed—they spoil all the big secrets right away. In the book, the big secrets hit so much better when they’re finally revealed. It’s honestly a great feeling that the payoff is so good. Watching Untamed, I was just like, what?! Don’t tell them yet! Like the headband?! Argh!! Yes, we got that one good scene, but I would have traded that for what happens in the book (of course, the whole being tied up with the headband probably wouldn’t have made it into the tv series…). [NB: I laughed when I was reading over this again and saw that I’d already brought up the headband. Sore spot lol.]

But also, does Wei Wuxian not look worried enough here or is it just me? I feel like he should be more concerned. Even though he has the utmost confidence in Lan Wangji’s skill, he’s just one young man up against a huge force from the Wen Clan.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

#cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #wen chao #wwx #lwj #cql rewatch #proud of myself for finishing this one earlier than usual #bribing myself withholding making gifsets until i finish the episode each week

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queenofmoons67 · 4 years

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Side By Side

Summary: In a world where Jin Guangyao doesn't just hand the faulty Cleansing to Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue’s death takes a little longer, and so does Nie Huaisang putting together the pieces—but when he does, the cultivators who died in the Sword Hall are still alive. And Nie Huaisang knows that if there’s anyone he can trust, it’s the men who swore themselves to be Nie brothers, to live and die at Nie Mingjue’s side.

AKA, in which Nie Huaisang isn’t alone. (Or, in which I say “if I can’t protect Nie Huaisang and make sure he gets out of this whole thing better than he does in canon, then the Nie disciples will just have to do it for me.”)

Nie Zonghui had managed to adjust to a lot of things, in the months since Nie Mingjue-zongzhu’s death.

There were the white robes and decorations, and then the white sashes—and just when he got used to all the white, they were back to the green and gold of the Nie Sect.

There was the lack of Nie Mingjue on the training grounds and in the halls. No robes whirling in angry swirls, or a voice barking in frustration one second and pride the next. No simple headpiece hiding a complicated pile of braids, and no guqin music floating on the wind. No bellows for Nie Huaisang.

And there was the absence of Nie Huaisang himself. He had always been absent on the best of days, preferring his own rooms and paintings to the openness of the training grounds. Nie Zonghui usually saw him at dinner, and maybe in the halls—or, if Nie Huaisang was unlucky, when Nie Zonghui was fetching him for Nie Mingjue. But Nie Huaisang had always been around, and he had never been hard to find.

Until now. Nie Huaisang had been named the new Sect Leader soon after his brother’s death, but in the months since, Nie Zonghui had only seen him a handful of times. He preferred his own rooms now more than ever, and if Nie Zonghui was being honest, the rest of the Nie Sect were inclined to let him.

No matter how upset at one another they got, all of the disciples knew that Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang had been close. If Nie Huaisang needed longer to mourn than propriety typically allowed, then so be it. No one in the Nie Sect would begrudge him that.

What all of this meant, though, was that Nie Zonghui had something even more unexpected and new to adjust to: Being called to Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the middle of the night.

When Nie Zonghui arrived, Nie Huaisang whirled around to stare at him, eyes lit with feverish abandon. The other four survivors from their Sword Hall quest also stared at him, though they stood behind their new Sect Leader and, judging by the confusion on their faces, didn’t know what was happening any more than Nie Zonghui did.

“Zonghui!” Nie Huaisang blurted out, waving him over frantically. “Finally. Come in, come in—ah, make sure to close the door.”

Nie Zonghui backtracked for a moment to do so, and then moved forward cautiously. “Zongzhu,” he said. “May I ask what this is about?”

“Yes, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. He moved to his desk, though, and grabbed a stack of talismans, adding, “Just give me a moment.”

One by one, Nie Huaisang sent the talismans to the walls, floor, ceiling, door, and windows. Nie Zonghui glimpsed at least a few silencing spells among them, and frowning, he looked more closely at the room.

He had noted the clutter when he came in, but that was typical for Nie Huaisang, so he had dismissed it. This time, though, the clutter was more organized than usual.

There was a guqin in the corner that Nie Zonghui hadn’t even known Nie Huaisang could play. Books had been scattered and piled on all available surfaces, some closed and tucked away and others covered in the scritch-scratch Nie Huaisang’s writing devolved to when he wasn’t paying attention. And other than the ink and brushes for writing, all of Nie Huaisang’s usual paints, brushes, and fans were out of sight—likely tucked away somewhere safe from everything else.

Finally, there were more than a few other stacks of talismans on the table, which made Nie Zonghui wonder—

“Zongzhu,” he said slowly. “Is there a reason we need to be careful of spies?”

The other disciples’ eyes went wide, but Nie Huaisang just smiled. He tapped a fan out of his sleeve, thumbed it open, and held it in front of his face, only his eyes peaking out. It was a usual gesture from him; he used it often to either look more innocent and pluck at Nie Mingjue’s heartstrings, or to hide when he was scared. But this was different. Nie Huaisang’s eyes were slightly narrowed, and glinted in the candlelight.

Nie Zonghui got chills, staring into the eyes of a predator.

“Da-ge was murdered,” Nie Huaisang said. “And I’m going to make sure the one who did it pays. You followed me once; now I’m asking you to do so again. Will you?”

Nie Huaisang had expected for Da-ge’s five closest disciples to help him; he wouldn’t have risked confiding in them otherwise. What he hadn’t expected was for them to bow to him as one, as deep and respectful as they would to Da-ge.

“Whatever you ask of us, I will do,” Nie Zonghui vowed, and the other four echoed him. Nie Huaisang closed his eyes, thankful for the way his fan hid the tears falling down his cheeks, and then opened them again.

“Da-ge would be thankful,” he rasped.

Nie Zonghui looked to the other disciples, and then back to Nie Huaisang. “With all due respect, Zongzhu, we are not just doing this for him. You deserve our support, too.”

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath to steady himself, and then snapped his fan closed and clasped it in a bow. “We both thank you.” Standing, he took another breath, then said, “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

“Yes, Zongzhu!” they chorused.

The following years passed slowly, but Nie Huaisang was never alone.

When he walked through the Unclean Realm and Qinghe, one of his trusted disciples was always by his side. They would talk together about the problems of the sect in public—which helped Nie Huaisang to perpetuate his reputation as someone who was trying, but ultimately didn’t know what he was doing—and discussed Da-ge in private. Sometimes that meant their revenge, but sometimes it just meant remembering him.

And whenever Nie Huaisang had to leave Qinghe, Nie Zonghui was by his side. To the rest of the world, he was there as both the Nie Sect’s first disciple, and as a bodyguard.

After Nie Mingjue’s death, the Nie Sect had gained a reputation for being overprotective of Nie Huaisang—though Nie Huaisang himself wasn’t responsible for this rumor, unlike most of the ones to come out of the Unclean Realm.

It made him emotional to think it, but that rumor was actually true. Nie Mingjue had set the example first, and with Nie Zonghui and four senior disciples flocking to him now, the rest of the Nie Sect had followed suit. His people being fond of him even while he was the Headshaker made Nie Huaisang hopeful that they wouldn’t hate him if the truth came out—though the rest of the world did seem to think that they were protective because they feared losing even a useless leader so soon after they had lost Nie Mingjue.

Regardless, the rumor gave Nie Zonghui the perfect excuse to always stay a step behind Nie Huaisang, no matter where he went. Nie Huaisang himself was never more thankful for it than when they were in Koi Tower. When he was forced to act familial with Jin Guangyao, hugging him and dining with him and crying into his arms, he could always retreat into the much more welcome embrace of Nie Zonghui.

And when the night finally came that Nie Huaisang feigned unconsciousness to get into Guanyin Temple, he did so with a steady heart and the knowledge that Nie Zonghui and the other disciples would be right there if he needed them.

Nie Zonghui paced the streets of Yunping, finger tapping a nervous beat on the sheathe of his saber and his eyes never looking away from Guanyin Temple for long.

“Da-shixiong,” another disciple said. “We’re not far. If Zongzhu calls, we’ll hear him.”

Nie Zonghui grunted, but didn’t relax. He didn’t like not having Nie Huaisang where he could see him whenever they were near Jin Guangyao, and knowing that this was the confrontation they had all been working towards just made it harder.

But, glancing at the other four disciples with him, he forced himself to take a deep breath and at least slow his pacing. He was the first disciple; they looked to him for support. If Nie Huaisang called for them, they all needed to be ready.

The moment he thought that, Nie Zonghui straightened at the sound of footsteps. Opening his mouth, he started to call to Er-shidi—and then Jiang-zongzhu hurried around the corner and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of them.

“Nie disciples?” Jiang-zongzhu demanded. “And—” he looked straight at Nie Zonghui “—aren’t you the one who never leaves Nie-zongzhu’s side?”

“We are looking for him now,” Nie Zonghui fudged. “He went for a walk without informing us.”

Jiang-zongzhu grumbled, “I can understand that.” He sighed, then explained, “I’m looking for my nephew. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

Nie Zonghui blinked. Looked to Er-shidi, who nodded back at him. And sighed. It was possible that Jin Rulan hadn’t stumbled into Jin Guangyao’s path, but Nie Zonghui wasn’t about to risk the life of either his own sect leader or a mere teenager and bet he hadn’t.

“We haven’t, Jiang-zongzhu,” Nie Zonghui said. “But—we may have a good idea of where he could be.” He hesitated, then added, “With Nie-zongzhu.”

Jiang-zongzhu blinked. “But you said—”

Nie Zonghui bowed low, gestured towards Guanyin Temple, and broke off into a brisk walk. He wasn’t willing to wait around trying to explain everything. And, judging by how Jiang-zongzhu ran past him with an expectant look, the sect leader understood that just fine.

Nie Huaisang was lying in Lan Xichen’s lap, debating if it was time he pretended to regain consciousness, when Jiang-xiong barged in, shouting for Jin Ling, with the familiar frantic tones of Nie disciples calling for their “Zongzhu!”

In the next second, he was being rolled over, and he blinked up at Nie Zonghui’s worried face. Four backs cloaked in green and gold stood between them and the rest of the temple’s occupants.

“Zongzhu,” Nie Zonghui said. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I—I’m fine,” Nie Huaisang replied, pretending to struggle to sit up—and then he caught a glimpse of an ongoing fight in-between Nie shoulders, and bolted upright. “Jiang-xiong!”

“He’ll be fine,” Lan Xichen said, his hand squeezing gently at Nie Huaisang’s shoulder from where he still sat behind him, other hand pressed to his back in support. “They both will be.”

Nie Huaisang’s face spasmed, but it wasn’t like Lan Xichen could see it—though from how his er-ge’s hand tensed, he could see the momentary anger in Nie Zonghui’s.

“Is… something wrong?” Lan Xichen asked slowly.

Nie Huaisang stared at Nie Zonghui, who just stared back evenly. His disciples would support him, Nie Huaisang knew. But that didn’t mean he wanted to bring the anger of the other sects down on them. But—

“Nie-xiong?” a voice interrupted. “Do you already know the truth about Jin Guangyao’s secrets?”

—Wei-xiong made Nie Huaisang’s choice for him, before he had even properly considered the options.

And so, bowing his head and making sure his voice projected a shaky grief, Nie Huaisang said, “I do, Wei-xiong. I have been—searching, you could say, for who killed Da-ge, for a long time. And—”

“You have?” Lan Xichen asked, so loud in his shock that the sounds of battle around them died. “A-Sang, why didn’t you tell me?”

Nie Huaisang cursed silently. He had no desire to explain how long the Nie Sect had known Jin Guangyao was guilty, but he thought he might prefer that to the broken look Lan Xichen leveled at him now.

“I’m sorry, Er-ge,” he said aloud, twisting to look up at Lan Xichen with wide eyes. “I was as shocked as you when I discovered that he had been killed, and I—I admit I probably wasn’t thinking right. I didn’t know what to do! And then Nie Zonghui—” he silently apologized to his first disciple “—said we should probably keep it in Sect, and I agreed, and I—I—”

By the end of his theatrical outburst, he was grasping at Lan Xichen’s robes with shaking fists, and Nie Zonghui was helping to sell his performance by holding his shoulders and trying to pull him back, all while murmuring apologizes to everyone.

For a moment, Lan Xichen just stared at them—and then he looked past them, to where Nie Huaisang had no doubt Jin Guangyao stood.

“And A-Yao?” Lan Xichen asked, voice cracking. “I’m assuming you have proof against him?”

“O—of course,” Nie Huaisang stammered, frantically trying to remember any that didn’t also condemn the Nie Sect for anything. “I—”

Anything Nie Huaisang might have said was drowned out in the chaos of Da-ge’s fierce corpse arriving.

Dawn arrived as Nie Huaisang stared at the collapsed remains of Guanyin Temple.

“He’s really gone,” he whispered.

“He is,” Nie Zonghui agreed.

Nie Huaisang took in a shuddering breath, and then slowly let it out as he remembered the way Da-ge had headed straight for Jin Guangyao. The man’s fight with Jiang-xiong had positioned him perfectly in the middle of the temple. He had managed to spin around, but he hadn’t even managed to bring up his sword before Da-ge had put his fist through his chest.

It had looked, Nie Huaisang reflected, like a physical representation of how he himself had felt when his da-ge died. It was awfully fitting, and the look of surprise and agony on Jin Guangyao’s face was one that Nie Huaisang would treasure for the rest of his life—though not as much as the one of peace that fallen over Da-ge.

“A-Sang?”

Nie Huaisang closed his eyes, relishing the familial name. He hadn’t had to use his backup plan. He still had Er-ge. He still—

“I… will need time,” Lan Xichen said. “To comprehend both my role in Da-ge’s death, and how I failed you in such a way you didn’t think you could come to me. I will be entering seclusion, but I do hope we can remain brothers.”

Nie Huaisang had opened his eyes at one point, turning to stare at his er-ge through burning eyes.

Lan Xichen didn’t look back at him.

“I understand,” Nie Huaisang forced out. “Er-ge.”

Lan Xichen smiled faintly, bowed, and walked away. Not once did he look at Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang could only suppose he deserved it. After what he had been prepared to do, it was fitting that he lose Lan Xichen anyway. Even if it left him all alone—

“Zongzhu,” Nie Zonghui said. “Are you ready to go home?”

Nie Huaisang wiped at his eyes, then turned and smiled at his disciples. “Always.”

He was never really alone, after all.

#nie huaisang #nie zonghui #lan xichen #nie brothers #fatal journey #nie sect #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #cql #mdzs fanfic #fanfic #My fic #mine

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godsporncollection · 4 years

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Sunday GC Sessions Summary

(long version) (personal commentary in parenthesis)

M Russell Ballard

List of how the second coming is described followed by a huge list of the very obvious things wrong with the world right now.

We pray for you.

Remember to pray. Pray lots, and for lots of people, because the leaders of the world need divine inspiration.

Quotes the lord's prayer.

Pray for everyone, even people you don't like.

(Do deaf people sign their prayers, when praying alone? What about when they pray in small, maybe family, groups?)

Prayer will help us by making feel better.

Pray everywhere you go.

Personal story of being in pain from a surgery on the hand; prayer helped the pain.

Lisa L Harkness

Story of a child jumping into a lake and feeling she needed help, even though she was safe. Sometimes we do this too, because we can't see that we are safe with god.

Biblical story of JC falling asleep in the boat that entered a storm and the disciples got scared and asked him to save them.

Recent events can leave us feeling lost and afraid, but we should have faith in god.

Ulisses Soares

Seek JC in every thought and follow him with all our heart.

Metaphor of magnet + metal object. Magnetic force holds objects tightly, but looses that power when the object is far away.

Temptation will fade when we continue to resist it.

JC told JS when in prison "let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men and women, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughths unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of god. The holy ghost shall be thy constant companion, and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth."

If you fall into temptation, there is hope.

Story of friend who fell into temptation. He was sad.

Prodigal son story.

Carlos A Godoy

I believe in angels. They're important. Some are here on earth. I'm gonna talk about those.

I converted at 16, after two angels (sister missionaries) introduced me to the gospel at a church activity.

I met another angel at youth conference. Her squad became my squad.

Then I met two other angels; my seminary teacher and young men president.

"Thanks to all these angels and many others I encountered during those important early years, I received enough srength to remain on the covenant path as I gained a spiritual witness of the truth."

"Please, please do not give up on your efforts to be part of this big family. It is the true church of JC. When it comes to your happiness and salvation, it is always worth the effort to keep trying. It is worth the effort to adjust your lifestyle and traditions. The lord is aware of the challenges you face. He knows you, he loves you, and I promise he will send angels to help you."

Neil L Andersen

Jc's resume.

"A recent study revealed that in the last 10 years, 30 million people in the US have stepped away from believing in the divinity of JC. Looking worldwide, another study predicts that in the decades ahead, more than twice as many will leave christianity than those who will embrace it."

Use the correct name of the church and talk about JC more. We have to talk more about JC because the world is talking about him less.

Russell M Nelson

'Israel' means 'let god prevail'.

Israel's descendants stoned the prophets. (...)

My grandkid's wife was sad that her father was dying, but I told her she was being near-sighted. She felt better after looking at the big picture of god's plan.

I greive for black people.

(I can't listen to any more of this asshole, sorry.)

AFTERNOON SESSION

Henry B Eyring

"My hope is to give encouragement when life seems especially difficult and uncertain. For some of you, that time is now. If not, such a time will come."

Personal story of pulling weeds as a child and the frustration of the weeds breaking instead of coming out. Mother said "oh, Hal, of course it's hard; it's supposed to be. Life is a test."

Story of us choosing to come to earth and satan disagreeing and getting followers. "Now, he tries to cause as many as he can to turn away from god during this mortal life." In the spirit world, we must have decided that whatever hardships we were going to face, "the forces of good would be overwhelmingly greater."

Two quotes that say that god will be with us, and will help us, even in our darkest hours.

God occasionally shows me the next couple of steps, but never a glimpse of the far future.

Also, we need to help others.

Another story of mother, who "all her life, she felt effects of the trials of illness. In her last 10 years of life, she required multiple operations. But through all, she proved faithful to the lord." "The last speaker [at her funeral] was elder Spencer W Kimball. After saying something of her trials and her faithfulness, he said essentially this: 'some of you may wonder why Mildred had to suffer so much and so long. I will tell you why. It was because the lord wanted to polish her a little more."

Jeremy R Jaggi

My youngest brother died two years ago. "We found comfort in the words of elder Neil L Anderson in general conference the week before Chad died: 'In the crucible of earthly trials, patiently move forward, and the savior's healing power will bring you light, understanding, peace, and hope.'" We'll be with him again, but losing him hurt.

James 1:2.

We thought 2020 would be all joy. Shit happened, but we're determined to see joy in this year anyway.

Chapter 6 of 'Preach My Gospel'.

"Blessed are the meek (etc)".

Many unsourced quotes saying that the more you seek/follow/believe in JC, the happier you will be.

Daughter, Emma, is a missionary. "[Emma] asked us to connect [online] with friends she was teaching [in the Netherlands]... We invited them to join our weekly online... study... All have become our friends." They've all converted.

Nelson recently said "Voluntary fast offerings from our members have increased, as well as voluntary contributions to our humanitarian funds."

"My brother Chad's passing came just a few months after our release from presiding over the Utah Ogden mission... Of all the 417 missions we could have been assigned to, we were assigned to... a 30-minute drive to Chad's home. Chad's cancer was diagnosed after we received our mission assignment. Even in the most trying circumstance, we knew that our heavenly father was mindful of us."

Gary E Stevenson

I was serving a mission in Japan. Kimball was speaking in Tokyo. I wanted to go. It was a long commute, so the mission president said no, but the rest of the branch went, so we were alone. Kimball announced a temple in Tokyo. I was disappointed to miss it.

This is like the even deeper disappointment people today experience due to covid.

How do we move forward? Consider the first verse of the BoM.

Wife and I met online with many missionaries who still managed to do lots of ministering, despite covid restrictions.

Think of "JS, languishing in Liberty Jail, feeling abandoned and forsaken, then hearing the words of the lord: 'these things shall be for thy good' and 'god shall be with you forever.'"

"We, too, can draw parallels, as individual members and as a church, in the way in which we have been highly favored of the lord during the challenging times we have encountered during the past several months."

"Let [these examples] strengthen your testimony of the seership of our living prophet, who prepared us with adjustments before any hint of a pandemic, enabling us to endure the challenges that have come."

List of ways that we have been told to prepare.

Story of a young woman who was just barely able to go to the temple right before leaving for her mission.

Milton Da Rocha Camargo

Gave his entire backstory before getting around to the topic: prayer.

"An important part of heavenly father's plan is the opportunity to communicate with him anytime we want."

"Every one that asketh, receiveth (etc)."

"Recording our impressions is an important part of receiving. It helps us recall, review, and re-feel what the lord is teaching us."

I like it when I have strong feelings after praying, but, more often, we're likely to hear the "still, small voice of the lord whispering to our mind and heart, 'I am here. I love you.'"

"Revelation often comes when we are in the act of doing good."

Dale G Renlund

Can I be a better person?

And "how can I, as a flawed person, qualify to 'dwell with god in a state of never-ending happiness'?"

"Good deeds are not sufficient. Salvation is not earned... Left to our own devices, the prospect of returning to live in god's presence is hopeless. Without the blessings that come from heavenly father and JC, we can never do enough or be enough by ourselves... Because of and through JC, we can become enough."

"We can be redeemed and stand clean and pure before god" by the ordinances of the gospel.

"Do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with thy god."

*Jewish appropriation*

Story of someone who had to remind someone "Dr. Jones, you became a physician to care for people and work to heal them. You didn't become a physician to judge them [on a self-infilcted wound]. If you don't understand the difference, you have no right to train at [Johns Hopkins Hospital, Baltimore, MD]."

Don't think you're above others.

"To be christlike, a person loves mercy... gracious, kind and honorable. These individuals treat everyone with love and understanding, regardless of characteristics such as race, gender, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, and tribal, clan, or national differences."

Kelly R Johnson

Story of daughter who set the microwave to cook [instead of timer] for 30 min. It caught on fire. This is because microwaves need something in them to absorb the energy.

"Our entire microwave went up in flames and burned because there was nothing on the inside. Likewise, those who have faith and the word of god deep in their hearts will be able to absorb and overcome the fiery darts which the adversary will surely send to destroy us."

(As someone raised with a fire extiniguisher in the kichen, I feel the sudden urge to suggest this to anyone with children)

(I have no idea what else he said because he used the word 'power' 34 times in his short talk, and it lost all meaning)

Jeffrey R Holland

Covid sucks and it's going on too long.

We want to know when our struggles will be over.

I'm now speaking about "those who would like to be married and aren't or who are married and with their marriage were a little more celestial. I speak of those who have to deal with the unwanted appearance of a serious medical condition, perhaps an uncurable one. Or face a life long battle with a genetic defect that has no remedy. I speak of the continuing struggle with emotional and mental health challenges that weigh heavily on the souls of so many who suffer with them and on the hearts of those who suffer with them. I speak of the poor, whom the savior told us never to forget. I speak of you, waiting for the return of a child no matter what the age, who has chosen a path different from the one you prayed he or she would take." Plus economic, political,and social concerns.

Your prayers "are heard and they are answered, though perhaps not at the time or in the way that we wanted." They'll be answered when and how god thinks they should be.

We shouldn't ask for a stress-free life; struggles make us worthy to live with god.

Russell M Nelson

"We live in a glorious age, foreseen by prophets for centuries... Despite the world's commotion, the lord would have us look toward the future with joyful anticipation... The gathering of Israel moves forward. The lord JC directs the affairs of his church and it will achieve it's divine objectives. The challenge for you and me is to make certain that each of us will achieve his or her divine potential."

Let JC be your 'new normal' by "repenting daily. Seek to be increasingly pure in thought, word, and deed. Minister to others. Keep an eternal perspective. Magnify your callings. And... live each day so that you are more prepared to meet your maker."

Six new temples: Tarawa, Kiribati; Port Vila, Vanuato; Lindon, Utah; Greater Guatamala; Sao Paulo East, Brazil; and Santa Cruz, Bolivia.

#exmo #exmormon #ex-mormon #apostake #mine #ex mormon #exchristian #ex christian #excult #cult stuff #exlds #ex lds #former mormon #ex religious #agnostic #gc october 2020 #gc summary

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advernia · 4 years

Text

fic: you make home sound like a distant memory

— the pieces fray around the edges, and the center has lost its warmth. - pre-game: a somber tale about a family with crimson blood.

1: draft turned fic turned welp, looks like i'm not writing anything else till this is done oh my god, what is this hot mess even - 2: dear @ikerev-appreciation pls forgive me but uhh does it still count as a jonah week entry even if jonah shares the spotlight with his family ksjksjd;;

o n e .

"... I wish we didn't look so alike."

"But we don't! I may look fantastic, but rest assured - I pale in comp arison to your delicate, angelic features!"

His birth is a celebration, not much of the congratulations on the safe delivery of your firstborn child kind, but more of the congratulations on giving birth to a boy kind of celebration. He's a plump babe swaddled within layers of fine cotton with little hair on his head and no teeth to speak of, but people stare at him with the intensity of the summer sun and smiles painted on their faces, as if he were the grandest being they had ever laid their eyes on.

Every feature of his, no matter how tiny and yet to be developed, comes out drizzled in honey from many mouths: the fullness of his cheeks (it's not fat, how dare you, it's a sign of good health), the curves of his little lips (they're as red as rogue, how adorable), the hue of his eyes (they have the beauty of pure molten gold), and the descriptive list gets longer and longer.

The only word everyone seems to have in common is heir.

He's barely two days old and he doesn't understand what that means at all, so he starts crying.

Two years and long grueling hours later, in comes another swaddled babe: he was born at the very moment the reds and golds disappeared from the sky, and the darkness of night enfolded everyone in its embrace. In fact, that's the color soft wisps of hair on his head seem to have taken - in total, he's a bundle of full cheeks, curved reddish lips, and dark-colored hair.

The celebration that follows after his birth is a small affair limited within the walls of his home, and the only ones who take hold of him with such warmth are his grandfather and a boy with silver hair. The former smiles at the sight of a small black dot set under his right eye and mumbles something about the mark of a Clemence, while the latter just stares at him in complete awe, stars bursting forth from eyes that were wide open.

Behind the old man and the child went hushed whispers, the word insurance hanging heavy in the air.

He's barely two days old and he doesn't understand what that means at all, so he starts crying.

"You'll have nothing to fear now, for I'm accompanying you! Aren't you glad we're going together?"

"What's there to be glad about when I'm going to be stuck with you?"

Children will be children like boys will be boys.

Come spring they run around a grand forest, chasing butterflies and gathering all sorts of things like little explorers lost in an expedition. They make sure to steer and hide away from any obstacles that come their way, like those terrible women in long black skirts who shout out their names and try to lure them out with the prospect of food. The biggest evil though is the great wizard: he's super thin, has graying hair, puts a super shiny monocle under his left eye, grows a bushy mustache with its tips pointing perfectly upwards, and worst of all knows how to use two dangerous words to complete his magic spell - the names of their parents.

Summer is too hot for exploring and the heat outside makes everything sweaty and sticky and it feels gross. So instead, they link their hands together to embark in a thorough search for their grandfather within the large halls and grand rooms of the mansion - he's always in the library though, sitting by the couch near the window and reading some book. When they come in, grandfather urges them to sit and off the three of them go as a tale is brought to life in words: they emerge in battlefields, countries, and in mystical places that a man called the Queen of Hearts had all stepped on once upon a time. Uninterrupted, they venture well until lunchtime.

Fall is boring because they can't go out and under the command of their parents, the great wizard has summoned his disciples to keep them apart - they're made to practice all sorts of things, read a lot of thick books, listen well to whatever's being taught, and the disciples don't take no for an answer even if they cry and beg. It's really, really boring and sometimes when they look out the window, they think about how much better it was to spend time being an explorer or listening to grandfather's stories instead.

Winter's a bit better because even if they still go through their very boring lessons, their grandfather saves the half of the day by leading both of them by the hand to go into his room. In there they can do whatever they want, and grandfather just watches over them with his wrinkly eyes. He coughs often and spends most of the time in bed though, so before doing anything else the both of them make sure that their grandfather's all warm and cozy and has a glass of warm water ready by his bedside table.

The old man smiles warmly at them - he smiles at the young child with silver hair, whose hands were always open for a smaller one to slip in and hold onto. He smiles at the little boy with dark hair, whose hands were always searching for a larger hand to hold on to.

Slowly he closes his tired eyes and focuses on the sound of boyish laughter, filling the four corners of the room.

By the end of winter, any trace of joy that laughter has left in the mansion, in the library, and in their grandfather's room, has promptly flown away.

The young child and the little boy huddle close to each other as they stood over clumps of snow, mittened hands tightly linked together as they stared at a headstone bearing their grandfather's name.

"Why are you here? Go away, go back, go home, and don't ever think about visiting me again!"

"Your shyness is adorable as always! But you don't need to hold back for my sake - now, give me a hug!"

Things in the mansion change a lot shortly after their grandfather had gone into a deep, deep sleep.

They're pulled away from each other like how their rooms are now on separate floors. Everyday they're seated far apart from each other on the dining table, strictly forbidden to sit beside each other. The disciples increase in number and strange people visit often, eyes set on their every move and mouths always having something to say about them both. Their parents forbade them from going out unless necessary, that order becoming something sharp and biting and absolute. But the most horrible thing of all is that they're no longer allowed to spend their days in each other's company.

No more exploring together, no more searching for four-leaf clovers together. No more sneaking into each other's rooms late at night, no more reading books together under the covers. No more creeping into the kitchen to get their favorite snacks, no more midday or afternoon teatime together. No more shopping together, no more walking around town together.

No more, no more.

No more together.

The young child tries, though. He tries his best to find a way out, to slip past the great wizard and his disciples and all those strange people and their parents' rules. He especially tries his very best at night. He tries to find the best time to slip out of his room unnoticed and run across the hallway to the stairs leading to the first floor, to go down those steps and head towards the left wing, to pass through many, many doors until he reaches that one door.

The little boy needs him. He's sure that no one in the mansion know about the nightmares the little boy has, about how lonely he can get in the middle of the night. No one knows of that one doll he likes to hold at night. He bets that no one, not even their parents, know about the lullaby too; from the words to the tune and up to how to sing it properly. He's the only one who can do it. He's the only one.

He has to keep trying. He'll handle any punishment, any lecture, any scolding, any added hours of study and practice, any confinement; he'll handle anything, if only, if only, if only -

The young child's efforts eventually pay off but sadly only at nighttime, but he figures that's a start. And so he develops a habit of sneaking out of his room come midnight just to sing to the little boy until every tear has dried, until the little boy's eyes were firmly closed shut and breathing takes on its steady rhythm.

When he turns around to leave, a small hand subconsciously reaches out to him like a lifeline; tugging at his sleeve or clinging to his fingers.

The young child takes hold of the little boy's small hand and squeezes it gently.

It feels like a lifeline, too.

"You don't need to stand there! Come on, there's an empty seat right beside me!"

"Ugh, no way. I'd rather stand for five hours straight rather than to be seen sitting beside you."

The day when the young child turned eight and the little boy was six served as the universe's way of pointedly reminding them of who and what they were; of what their own family and perhaps the whole country saw them to be.

It was certainly a birthday to be remembered.

Seated at the head of a grand table and surrounded by all the grandeur money could possibly offer to an eight-year-old, there sat no young child with tears streaming down his face but there was only Jonah Clemence, the firstborn son and heir of the Clemence family's proud crimson bloodline and the future Queen of Hearts of the Red Army.

And although it was never planned for someone to sit there in the first place, seated by the very foot of the grand table was a little boy and his name was Luka.

Heir.

Insurance.

Ah -

- so that's what the word meant.

t w o .

"Remember that I'm always waiting to welcome you back home with open arms."

"... You don't need to do that any longer. I'm never going back."

Because Jonah Clemence realized that he was no longer a young child the same way Luka had accepted that he was no longer a little boy, the world and the society around them began to change, too.

Those women in long black skirts are simply maids, the great wizard and his disciples are the head butler and their tutors, respectively. People who claim to work out of respect and reverence to the Clemence family's name, but all those claims pale in comparison to the lovely clink of a coin.

The strange people who come in and out of the mansion and continue to do so were a toss of either their relatives or nobles of lower standing. Over time, there was no need to differenciate both, simply because there was no lesser evil between two parties that wore masks for a living and wagged tongues painted a shimmering silver.

The library is left untouched but the couch that their grandfather used to sit on has been replaced for something finer, something that doesn't smell of youthful adventure and heroic romances. It's gone and so is their grandfather's bedroom, the sanctuary where they tasted freedom once upon a time.

Lessons take broader shapes and extensions, demanding more attention and a sharper mind. The hilt and weight of a sword has made itself known to them as well, introduced to them by no one else but by the Queen of Hearts himself, their father.

What they used to call the grand forest was in truth the mansion's spacious gardens - the cobblestone pathways and the secret clearings they used to run through back and forth for days become unfamiliar when they stand at the center of it all and it's filled with tables and silverware, with guests sipping away at exquisite tea and specially made cakes laid out for their choosing.

The chill of winter has long left every hallway and it's already the middle of summer, but the mansion and everything else in it never grew any warmer.

"I don't want your help. I didn't ask for your help. Now leave me alone."

"Hush! Do you honestly think I would do something so heartless when I can see you suffering!?"

It was impossible for Luka to stand in the same limelight where Jonah Clemence stood, and that was alright.

Jonah Clemence was the heir after all, and he was to be the Queen of Hearts someday. He's young for now but once he grew up, he was going to be an upstanding noble and a honorable soldier, and everyone else would look up to him. He'd do all sorts of good deeds, go to places far away, win lots and lots of battles with his trusty sword at his side, and would do anything to protect anyone from evil.

But that was Jonah Clemence.

Everyone only saw Jonah Clemence but Luka could also see someone else - that's because before Jonah Clemence became the Jonah Clemence, he was first and foremost Luka's one and only big brother: he was brave for still sneaking into Luka's room at night, smart and quick whenever he would help Luka study without anyone knowing. He paid close attention to whatever Luka had to say, he was kind enough to guide Luka into reading the music notes for a violin piece. He was also patient and understanding to boot - he never got mad at Luka, ever.

But the best thing about Luka's big brother was that he didn't force himself to be perfect like Jonah Clemence was.

Luka's big brother allows himself to cry because he's so tired, allows himself to get frustrated and complain about all those adults and those tea party invitations. He allows himself to be sad because he hasn't been able to see Luka around much, allows himself to get angry because father had been very strict during sword practice. And even though he's older than Luka, he can also act so childish and lazy.

Sometimes Luka wished that everyone else could see his big brother in Jonah Clemence, too.

Because while Jonah Clemence was Luka's hero, Luka's big brother was the person Luka loved the most.

Being second son meant not bearing any of the responsibilities that came with being the Clemence heir and for Jonah, that was a relief.

The heir had to show the best of himself at all times, presenting no sign of weakness but only strength. He was someone no one could look down upon, someone who could command respect by people hearing the sound of his name. Emotions should never get in the way of the heir's judgement because once he lets just a shred of that in, people will start doubting his power and will take advantage of him immediately.

And that was just being heir.

Being the Queen of Hearts on the other hand was a legacy engraved in the heir's blood, a distinction of glory and the very purpose why he has been brought into the world. The Queen is the paragon of a steadfast loyalty to the King of Hearts, and the Queen is the only one worthy of being called the King's second-in-command. The Queen was second best to the King, but that didn't make him any lesser: he is incredibly strong, righteous, and if ever the King were to be led astray; the Queen would be the first one who would lead the King back into the right path.

Jonah wouldn't - couldn't, shouldn't - allow Luka to shoulder those burdens.

Every responsibility weighed too much, expected too much. And Luka - his sweet, oh-so-sweet little brother with the warmest smile in the world and a heart of shining gold - doesn't deserve to experience any of that. Those small ears don't need to hear constant criticism, flowery words with knives underneath, or stinging whispers. Those kind eyes don't need to see cold faces and fake smiles. That gentle voice shouldn't speak words that people expect to hear. That tiny body didn't need to feel itself breaking from the pain of all those slaps, kicks, fists, bruises and scars.

And that beautiful heart certainly didn't need to break and turn to stone from the pressure, from all the difficult things the heir and the future Queen of Hearts had to go through.

Being the Clemence heir and taking on the mantle of the Queen of Hearts are the very pillars of Jonah's life, but -

- being the older brother who would do anything to protect the world's most precious little brother was important to him too.

"Trust me - I would do anything to protect you."

"... Why are you always like this?"

Winter wasn't the best season for them, simply because it was the season when their grandfather died. When he passed away with that soft smile on his thin lips, whatever scraps of freedom they were able to savor went along with him as well; carefully placed in an ornate casket and buried six feet under the ground, nestled around a protective magic barrier for good measure.

And now their parents were giving them another reason to dislike winter.

In the dead of the night and under the light of the full moon, Luka lets out a valley of tears that stream down his cheeks and fall onto his silk bedsheets - the drops fall to the pace of skip counting, going one, three, eight, fifteen, twenty-three, and Jonah can't stop all that with just the long sleeves of his shirt. Luka's cries are hiccupped sobs; broken little pieces, strangled wails of sorrow, warbled watery pleas of don't go, don't go, please don't leave me here alone, please oh please, don't go.

Each sob is as soft as the winds that blow against the windows of the room, but each sound resonates loudly through Jonah's being - it echoes and deafens the ears, slips past all his defenses just to repeatedly stab at his skin and to seep onto every open pore, barges inside just to punch both his lungs and constrict the heart in a vice-grip that leaves him breathless.

It hurts. It really does.

When he's rendered useless, there's nothing much left to do but wrap his arms around his little brother with the hope that whatever strength he had left would keep them both steady.

But it doesn't.

When both their eyes have finally run dry, Jonah raises one of his calloused pinkies to link with one of Luka's own.

He solemnly promises that on his honor as Jonah Clemence, heir to the Clemence family and the future Queen of Hearts, he would write a letter every day to his one and only little brother Luka Clemence; no matter how busy or tired he would be by the end of the day. Whenever the opportunity presents itself and if he is also permitted to do so, Jonah Clemence would go back home just to visit Luka Clemence. Also, if Jonah Clemence would find anything interesting, just anything at all; he would make sure to bring it home so he could show it to Luka Clemence.

It's the first and the longest vow that Jonah has ever spoken. His throat is all tingly and his voice doesn't just come out right but Luka heard every last word, down to that last hiccup.

Luka squeezed that one calloused pinky firmly as he possibly could.

Jonah Clemence wasn't a liar.

Luka's big brother wasn't a liar.

So he would definitely keep his promise.

t w o .

There's this young boy surrounded by cold adults in a big mansion, but each morning

he does his best to wake and rise early to look out past the mansion's windows,

because he was going to wait for a letter to arrive.

The young boy knows he's being a bit silly because,

the letter wouldn't arrive that early!

Still, he wanted to wait.

And the young boy did wait, until the sun had fully risen up to hang in the sky -

while waiting, he went through the motions of his typical every day,

but this time, he looked out the window more often.

Someone important to him had gone away, you see -

but before that person left,

they made a promise.

Now that the young boy thought about it, that person -

he never said how exactly would he have

his letters delivered.

All the young boy knew was that after reading a letter and writing a reply,

he would secretly deliver his reply to that person,

by making use of some magic.

But perhaps thinking about how a letter would arrive in the mansion didn't matter!

That person's letter would definitely come in time,

because they made a promise.

What the young boy didn't know though, was that before that person left -

that person also made a promise with their parents,

and it was about those letters.

That person made their parents swear on their honor that the letters he would

send daily to the mansion, they would personally deliver to the rightful

recipient, who would be the young boy.

That person thought that if he would make his parents swear on their honor,

they would never dare break their word because they were

of proud crimson blood like he was.

So the young boy waited and waited,

day turned noon then night,

but he still waited.

A day passed by, then two, then three, then four -

but the young boy didn't lose hope,

he had to be patient.

But again, what the young boy didn't know was that his crimson blood parents

thought differently of the vow the both of them made with that person.

They valued something else more than a promise on their honor.

What they valued the most was that their firstborn son would do his best at the academy,

shape himself into a fine man without anything distracting him,

be it his own brother, the young boy.

The crimson blood parents, no matter how rigid they became, kept on holding onto the thought that

what they were doing, and everything they had done in the past were all

in the best interests of the family and their two children.

But even before he passed away, the children's paternal grandfather scoffed in response to seeing such methods -

he was disappointed as he said: as parents you're simply tearing two children apart,

but the crimson blood parents still didn't change their hearts.

So what became of the young boy who kept on waiting and waiting for a letter,

of the firstborn son who was sent to do his best at the academy,

and of their crimson blood parents?

For now,

let's just say that,

over time of waiting, waiting, and much more waiting -

people eventually realize that they have grown much, much older and that

they are now at least a little bit wiser enough not to wait for letters that would never come.

t h r e e .

"One day you're going to grow old and forget about me."

"Preposterous - how could I possibly bring myself to forget my one and only little brother?"

... And where exactly do you think you're going at this hour?

His fingers twitch, just inches away from the golden door handle. They're made of oak, these doors right in front of him, just like any other door in this mansion that presented itself as a home. Question, though: would a home have rooms, exits, or entrances that have such imposing doors, all tall and dark and heavy? Would a home constantly keep such doors closed, with handles that would never open because the lock had been secured and the key had been kept away? Would a home just have a door for show, and when you open it you suddenly realize that it actually leads to nowhere; presenting you no option of entry or exit?

He wouldn't know. Would she know? She always spoke in a clear-cut manner, voice having the melody of summer but words coated in the frost of winter: heat to the ears, chills to the heart. But surely enough summer and winter have turned into spring and fall - seasons change like how time flew like water, and that meant every person in the world weren't getting any younger.

He and her included.

He got it from her, the dark shade of his hair that resembles the night. But more than the night itself, time has dictated that her hair be turned into the night sky instead; a canvas of black spread with dashes of silver stars. He wished that he got the color of her eyes too: brown like the earth, brown like a piece of dark chocolate. Maybe if he had her eyes, he wouldn't be reminding people of someone else.

His fingers wrap around the door handle.

I asked you where you're going...!

Ah, winter had become fall - somehow that elevated pitch and sharp volume had less bite to it, now merely a bitter wind blowing at his back and unable to pierce any deeper. His skin, his lungs, and his heart were fine; no chilling over, what a relief. Was she already that old, or was it simply his desensitization that lessened the impact?

Whatever the case, he wasn't going to stay any longer just to find out.

He pulls the door open, and he's greeted by a rush of a cool night's breeze along with the light of the full moon.

Luka...!

He takes a few steps forward, only to close the door behind him shut. Firmly now, firmly. So that the sound would make itself known in the grand foyer, whoosh through the many steps of a carpeted staircase to reach all the way to the pretty landing; slicing through the silence like a voiceless, wordless slap to the face. Bang. Echo, echo. Did that sound like a satisfying ending to your sharply pointed ears, mother?

From that point on, Luka Clemence didn't dare to look back.

The last time he stepped into this mansion of proud marble and golden paint was in celebration of him finally taking on the name that was rightfully his. Smiles were plastered onto faces like a fine template made specifically for the occasion, the word congratulations thrown about back and forth as verbal confetti. Champagne went spinning round, resembling the skirts of the many women twirling by the ballroom floors, heels going click clack in time to the orchestra's uplifting compositions.

It was a mediocre celebration, if he would say so himself. His special guest wasn't in attendance and that made everything else less enjoyable... including the already sorry excuse of a strawberry mille-feuille.

Now, he returned for one reason, and one reason alone - he passed through the foyer, headed right, passed through a couple of rooms until he found himself standing by the entrance of the dining room. Shiny crystal chandelier, polished floors. Tasteful curtains and tapestries, carefully made carpets. A wide and stretching ornate table, chairs of finely carved mahogany with plush cushions.

Only two chairs were occupied. As he approached the table, one of the occupants turn around to the sound of his footsteps. Eyes narrow, a voice comes out unsure.

... Jonah?

Two pairs of eyes are on him now - surprise faintly wrinkles his father's brow, his mother holds a gaze that could be classified as listless. Caused by a lack of sleep, maybe?

Good morning, father, mother. Is Luka yet to wake up?

The silence that follows his question is pregnant - it's the kind that just dances around your very being, frolicking without care along your legs and atop your finely shined shoes. It giggles around constantly like a happy child until you get irritated, try to chase it, but only to miserably fail. For the love of all that's good and holy, you just want to know why it's giggling so much. Was it so hard to capture silence? Was it so hard to find the words that would stop it from frolicking around like it owned the place?

It lasts for a good two minutes before his father exhales slowly, rising from his seat.

... We'll take this discussion elsewhere.

... Your mother tried stopping him.

Something boils uncomfortably in his blood, reaching down to the very pits of his stomach as he stared at his father. It brings to mind the image of water that bubbles, rises, and threatens to spill out from its kettle prison, leaving a scalding mess its wake.

Jonah's palms land down on his father's desk, impact loud and fingernails digging at the wood.

Tried? he spits the word out with an impressive amount of venom, lips snarling at the ends, Perhaps you didn't try hard enough! You should've informed me of this matter immediately!

A growl rears its head from the back of the throat - low, booming, intimidating. Strangely enough, it's nostalgic in a most amusing manner, but -

Ah, that's right, how could Jonah forget?

Former authority figures didn't take kindly to accusations of incompetence.

Jonah Clemence, compose yourself! Is that how the Queen of Hearts should speak!?

Something in Jonah's expression twists as a crack broke his voice.

I returned here simply as an older brother happy to celebrate his little brother's graduation, not as the Queen of Hearts!

Silver mirroring silver, gold mirroring gold. Fiery tempers contesting one another, sparks flying about in the four corners of the room. Perhaps if they tried hard enough they could set the whole room alight until flames lap and lick at every surface there is to burn, breaking everything down until nothing is left but trails of ash and wisps of smoke.

And as if her figure couldn't look any more delicate than it already was, his mother appeared much smaller as she sat by the very end of the couch, a lost look in her eyes and a plain notebook resting nicely on her lap.

When she closes her eyes and lowers her head, wisps of her dark hair shield her face from the rest of the world.

It's already that very moment in time where the reds and golds disappeared from the sky, and the darkness of night enfolded everyone in its embrace.

Jonah Clemence looked up to stare at that very sky, his back facing a mansion of proud marble and golden paint. There he stands straight and tall, all alone in a secret clearing discovered by two brave explorers, once upon a time.

Carefully gripped in his right hand is an object made of cotton, pieces of it well-worn: white clothes were predominantly stained with tints of an aging yellow, two buttons of the coat about to fall loose, stitches here and there showing signs of fraying.

The only parts of it that remained presentable were the strands of dark-colored yarn on top, and a pair of golden dots for eyes.

I'll find you.

He moves his arm to clutch the doll to his chest, head still held up high.

I promise.

#jonah clemence week #ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #jonah clemence #luka clemence #*loud whale noises* oH M A N ? ? ?#oof i could've done this fic more justice but i've lost count of how many edits i did #that's nothing new to me but i got frustrated so i didn't hold onto it any longer ;w;#half of that edit time was spent on forma t ting yeeHAW i got so carried away #okay so maybe doing this in the middle of a seminar wasn't a good idea L M AO #rushed this just to get it out of my system so i didn't proofread properly eeep;;;#edits & post reading notes??? shall come later... yeah maybe later haha...

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revlyncox · 4 years

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Where Charity and Love Abide

This sermon was given to the UU Church of Silver Spring via online worship on May 10, 2020.

Where is the Divine in all of this? If you’ve ever had sessions with a spiritual director, that may sound familiar. If you are a theist, they may ask you to reflect on where God’s presence seems nearby. If you are agnostic, they might get more creative, like where are you finding awe and wonder, where is a sense of reverence popping up in your life, when do you get a tingle that something sacred is happening?

One of the songs in our prelude this morning, Ubi Caritas, suggests that where charity and love abide, the Divine is there. I find that deeply comforting - I don’t know if I believe in God, but I do believe in kindness, and remembering the ways that people and other beings express love helps me to have faith that there is something holy moving through the world.

In times such as these, I am looking for every sign that I can. It is easy to get overwhelmed with world events and personal sources of sadness. Really, I wonder, where is the Divine in all of this? If there is a higher power, I don’t think it makes arrangements intentionally for our suffering, but maybe there is a power that can comfort and inspire us and move us to respond when humans hurt each other. Maybe it comes from humans ourselves acting our best and highest; or maybe it comes from the Source of Love, beyond our knowing. We need that kind of help right now. Where is it?

It may be that part of my problem is looking for the sacred in one, concrete place, as if it were a pair of scissors that keeps moving around the house. My mind is trained to seek things that I can see and touch and hold, and perhaps the holy is not a thing with a single location. Particularly in times such as these, when everything is changing quickly and our basic assumptions about how the world works are being upended, concrete predictability will not yield a force that brings comfort, inspiration, challenge to live our values, or a sense of connection with the universe. in times like these, perhaps what we seek can’t be found in one place. It’s not a commodity to be grasped. Not even signing up for the right workshops or collecting scented candles will allow us to possess it and tame it. What we seek is a spirit that moves.

Some of our Pagan friends celebrated Beltane not that long ago. One of the traditions of this holiday is to light fires. Some say that one aspect of the tradition is to put out all of the fires in the community, to light a new fire to be the Beltane fire, and re-light all of the hearths of the community from this new flame. In this way, the warmth and light of every household is connected to one source, to one flicker of renewal. Cattle are driven between festival fires in hopes for their continued health. Partners jump over the fires to renew relationships. Grains from the previous year are cast into the flames, symbolically purifying the stores of that which is stale. The fires of Beltane remind us that renewal happens in relationship. Our community is linked by shared renewal. Partnerships thrive in cooperative renewal. Our ability to thrive agriculturally is relational with the earth. And none of it is static. Instead, the spirit that moves dances like the flames, taking no final form. The Beltane fires are something to pass through or leap over or rekindle, but cannot be predicted or held in place.

Another story about fire is coming up for Christians at Pentecost, celebrated this year by Western Christians on May 31. As the story goes, Jesus’ friends had been coming to terms with his death and the possibility of his resurrection for over a month, meeting in small groups and figuring out what it meant to continue their movement without their leader. In some of the stories, the resurrected Jesus had appeared to them, and at the end of this time of regrouping, left them to return to heaven. It was again a season of pilgrimage in Jerusalem, and there were people from all around the known world crowding into the city.

As the story goes in the Book of Acts, the disciples were all gathered in one group when “tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” The fires of Pentecost are the fires of renewed mission. They could not continue witnessing and healing the way they had done; they had changed and the world had changed. Fire symbolized that they had to carry out their mission in a new way. They needed new language, new skills for communication, new technologies for finding connection. The shape and the outcome of their movement was not set at that point; they were traveling through a time of transformation. The flames of Pentecost gave them energy for change, but not certainty.

Though Unitarian Universalism grows from Christian roots, not all of us are close followers of Christian tradition. I don’t know if the story happened exactly this way, but I believe it’s true that a movement that witnesses for justice for the poor and accountability for the powerful, a movement that knows that state-sanctioned violence is a real possibility, a movement that seeks right relationship between people and with the holy -- that movement needs to be ready for change. Sometimes the times in which we live are fires to pass through, and our way of pursuing our mission must adapt. Outcomes are not assured. The shape of things to come is unclear. The spirit that moves can’t be held in our hands. Yet there are powers that inspire and challenge and draw people together.

In the story from the Book of Acts, people are in Jerusalem for the Jewish holiday of Shavuot. This is a holiday that is celebrated very differently now than during the second Temple period of first century Palestine. Nevertheless, it’s a day worth noticing, and it is also coming this month, on May 29. Shavuot is partly a harvest holiday, bookending the grain season that begins with Sukkot. By tradition, the Torah was given to the people on Shavuot, and the holiday has become an occasion to celebrate the Torah by staying up all night studying.

In the Book of Deuteronomy, we read that the first version of the Torah that God gave to Moses to share with the people did not last. Moses came down from Sinai, the mountain ablaze, and saw that the people had already strayed, and he smashed the first two tablets. God helped Moses create another set, Torah 2.0, and those were the tablets placed in the ark.

According to Jewish mystics, the first set of tablets were written with black fire on white fire. Perhaps the black fire represents judgment and the white fire represents mercy; or the black fire represents interpretation and the white fire -- what we might think of as blank space in graphic design -- represents possibility. Perhaps the fires represent what is written and what is hidden. Rabbi Michael Strassfeld suggests that the white fire is the world around us, that the sacred must always be understood in the context of life as we are living it -- holy words must be interpreted in relationship with the world as it is in the current time and place.

So, again, the spirit that moves cannot be pinned down. The Divine flickers and dances and resists concrete form, revealing and purifying and drawing people together in ways that adapt to the times in which we find ourselves.

My last sacred story is not so much about fire as it is about commitment. We are in the middle of the holy month of Ramadan. During this month, Muslims recall when the Prophet Muhammad, Peace and Blessings Be Upon Him, received the revelation of the Holy Quran. During this month, Muslims not only fast from food and drink during the day, but they are particularly careful to avoid lies, slander, gossip, false oaths, and greed or covetousness. According to one story, the Prophet Muhammad was in contemplation when he was visited by the Angel Gabriel, who commanded him to read. Muhammad replied that he was unable to read. Gabriel embraced him, and then commanded him to recite, which he did:

Read! in the name of your Lord who created Man from a clinging substance. Read: Your Lord is most Generous,– He who taught by the pen– Taught man that which he knew not.

So ends the reading. Not only am I moved by the commitment to charity and love that I observe in my loved ones who fast during Ramadan, I am reminded by this story that we move through times of uncertainty with abilities that we either didn’t know we had or that we pick up because we didn’t know we would need them before. Being committed to our values means we adapt. If it is our hope to be in the places where charity and love act, we change along with the spirit that moves. Charity and love are not static. They are always in motion, always part of a system of relationships.

This brings us back to wondering where the Divine might be in the midst of this pandemic. How is the spirit moving us through the fires of this time of transformation? We do not know how society will be different on the other side of this. We can try to shape that change. As we do that, let’s stay anchored to our values. How do we move with the spirit in which charity and love abide?

As I mentioned earlier, I feel that our commitment to honoring the interdependent web of existence and the inherent worth and dignity of every person means that it is incumbent upon us to recognize that the stresses of the pandemic fall most heavily on those who hold one or more marginalized identities. The decision to go to the store or wear a mask or exercise outdoors is more risky for some because of factors like racism, xenophobia, and ableism. My prayers are with the family of Ahmaud Arbery, who was murdered in February, and whose family had to endure being re-traumatized this week as his death gained publicity. May the trial of the two men were arrested for his murder proceed swiftly and with integrity. The inequitable effects of the pandemic don’t stop there. Wealthy people are invited to shelter at home, while meat packing workers are ordered into places of danger, being told by a Wisconsin state supreme court justice that their illnesses and deaths don’t count because they are not “regular folks.” Families of color -- especially Black families -- and families who are poor are sustaining heavier losses. In the United States, we mourn for over 76,000 people who have died of Covid-19, and we ache for leadership that will honor those who are left. We are faced with an urgent need to transform our society toward justice, equity, and compassion, now more than ever.

I know this congregation is full of compassionate people. You have been reaching out to one another through the contact tree and spontaneous calls and cards in the mail. You have responded with generosity to the Minister’s Discretionary Fund. You are capable of great kindness. The charity and love you express is part of something larger. Love goes out to individuals, and also to whole systems, where it takes on the name of justice. Your personal calling may be rooted in acts of individual compassion. We don’t all have to be full time activists. We do, if we are honest, need to remember the systems of oppression that make suffering worse. Let us remain committed to our deepest values.

This is a threshold time, an open doorway, a sacred fire for us to pass through or around or over. I do not wish for us a return to everything as it was before. The future is still unfolding. My hope is that we adapt, that we find our place in the dance with the spirit that moves, that we follow the rhythms of justice and compassion. So be it. Blessed be. Amen.

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goddessofthundathighs · 5 years

Text

Chapter 3, Pt. 2

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Summary: An arrogant young disciple of Bastet is forced to spend lifetimes roaming Earth in search for her soulmate, but what happens when she tries to run from destiny?

A/N: For those of you that have seen Fahrenheit 451, Abhimani is taking on the role of Clarisse McClellan. Writing cred for this chapter goes to @panthergoddessbast! I love you or whatever..

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Stepping into his bathroom with a determined gait, he requested Yuxie go dark.

“I am secure now Montag,” a melodic electronic voice rang through the sanitary walls.

As he sat on the covered toilet seat, Guy revealed that which seemed to be burning a hole in his chest the second he put it there, pressing it against his body as Beatty stood in front of him.

Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

His fingers touched and caressed the cover. What could have happened if the captain would have discovered it in his possession? He shook those thoughts out of his head and opens the book to the first page of the first chapter.

“I am a sick man. I am a wicked man. An unattractive man. I think my liver hurts.”

Getting even more curious, he flips to page 25.

“I agree that two times two is four is an excellent thing but two times two is five is sometimes also a most charming little thing.”

“False.” That same robotic blurted into what Guy thought was his own solitary.

“Yuxie I said go dark!”

“We are dark. It’s just me and you but that is false. Two times two can only be four. What are you doing Montag?”

A wide eyed look of fear was written all over his face as he looked around for what to do next. The voice seemed to know he was doing something he shouldn’t be.

“Are you feeling ok?” The voice almost seemed concerned for the panicked man’s well being. He hopped up from his seated position and tucks the book back to its original hiding place, storming out of the room in haste with the voice questioning where he was going already in the background as he set out to his destination.

He approached the train station and ventured to the stop entrance where he placed in his finger in order to be properly identified and was allowed passage to catch his train.

“I don’t think that old woman killed herself. I think they staged it. It’s all fake. They didn't even bother to sync her lips this time, you saw that shit right? Yeah they definitely murdered her.” The man in glasses badgers away as Abhimani tries to focus on the tinkering task between her fingers. He was definitely annoying her.

“Why do you keep going on about it?” The man looks pensively at her as though he was wondering what made her say something that insensitive.

��Hey you good?” She ignored him completely.

“Mani you know what we’re working on. We need someone with your connections so you tell me when you’re ready to come back to us.”

At this point the two were locked in deep eye lock, staring each other down before Mani looked back down to continue her task then gathered her things to leave the shanty like bar.

I am not tryna to get mixed in with none of their revolutionary drama. I have my own mission.

Bag secured on her back with both straps, she set her trek for home.

As she walked further, she heard her Goddess’ voice.

“Pace yourself, child, and do not fear.”

Wait what?

She got deeper into her journey home when she felt a presence. Like she was being followed.

She cut through the power plant to see if that person would persist and went in between some trailers. Turning around abruptly and unsheathing her boxcutter, Mani confronted her stalker.

‘’Who are you? What do you want?”

“Whoa!”

“You'll learn to listen to me one day, my darling.”

There he stood with his hands up in surrender. Her mate had returned and this time he appears to have come alone granted she had her suspicions.

“Did Beatty send you?”

“No I just came to talk to…”

“What do you want?”

He had the looks of someone who had so much on their shoulders with not a clue as to what the burdens they carried truly meant. His eyes held hers with desperate but intent purpose. Like she held the answers.

“I wanna know what that old woman was.”

“I don’t know.” The hand holding her weapon began a slight tremor. Yes this was the person she was meant to be with but she had no inkling as to what he was truly capable of.

“She lit herself on fire for books. Why?”

“Why do you care?”

His eyes blazed as he answered.

“Because I can still smell her burning.”

“You did that.”

“And you told us exactly where to find her.”

At that statement, Mani slowly lowers weapon cause he clearly wanted something else other than to harm or interrogate her.

“She didn’t say coward. She said omnis. What is that?”

She was extremely hesitant to answer him. She wasn't sure if that was her place. It wasn't her secret to tell so she replied with an unsteady voice.

“I don’t know.”

Guy stepped forward and began to unzip his jacket which put her back on the defense and made her hold up her boxcutter once again. He sensed her trepidation.

“I just wanna show you something.”

The zipper went down slowly as to not alarm the robust woman any further and his hand reached into his pocket to unveil the book he had been carrying. He held it like a delicate egg that would crack if you squeezed too hard, his eyes glued as he turned it over in his hands then connected eyes with Abhimani.

“I took it from her house.”

Him falling into her midst seemed much too easy to her. All the trials and tribulations she had experienced in all her past lives. In his past lives. It couldn't be this simple. Could it?

“Is this a trap pipeman?”

His eyes thinned and eyebrows scrunched in contempt. “If anybody sees me with this, I’m dead.”

She instantly put her knife down and he stepped even closer to her holding out the book to her as a peace offering. She held his gaze for what seemed like eternity before reaching her hand out to accept the book in her own hand. Their eyes transferring cosmic energy between them. Mani reached her hand out to grasp the bound written pages thus starting a ripple of emotions within Guy because nothing have ever felt so right to him.

So he followed her into that old dilapidated building. Trailing behind her and peeking around corners to make sure that they were not being followed.

“Hey Mani.”

The woman with the big baby which seemed to be permanently attached to her hip appeared out of thin air at the most inopportune time causing Mani to push her door open and rush Guy through so the woman would not see the pipeman. As she stood held up in the hallway, he took a gander around her space before crossing over the room to see out of the window to ensure again that they were not being followed. He was already in deep with this book in his possession. What would it look like for Guy Montag, the golden burning boy, to be seen at an Eel’s house?

“She didn't see who you were.” Finally she had been released from the hall and entered her space. She had never been in such close quarters with her mate before. Who seemed to her unattached to anyone and freely available.

Thank God. I couldn't take him having another family. No one needs to suffer more than they have but he's so dazzling. I might just understand why this is happening to me.

“I shouldn't be here.”

Wait no! You just got here, you can't leave I just found you!

“Then leave.”

No you dumb bitch dont tell him that.

Now that would be a little counterproductive, wouldn’t it?

Anubis’ voice rang in her brain as he slinked out from the kitchen towards them. Guy’s eyes flashing down to the tiny furry body before looking back up to meet hers from across the room.

Oh go spit up a hairball.

Reaching over, she turned on her lamp by the door and he followed suit with the lamp on her dresser then proceeded to look through her drawers.

“Please don't do that.” He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he slowly slide the drawer back to its original closed position then went about observing the rest of her private place.

Mani took a seat on her bed and clutched the book in hand, smelling its natural scent of ink and paper along with all the places it could have been in the past. Pine, cinnamon, gasoline. It transported her all over. Guy’s fingers twiddled between her vinyls against the wall and he picked up one. He had burned them but had never taken the time to actually look at them. They were so lightweight. No wonder his boots crushed them with the slightest effort. His eyes travelled to her, her nose still lost in the book’s journey.

“Can you read that out loud? Please?”

Turning her body around to face him, she opened the book and began to read.

“Even if men were nothing but a piano key, even if this were proved to him by natural science and mathematics, even then he will invent destruction and chaos. He will invent all kinds of suffering out of ingratitude simply to convince himself that he is a man and not a piano key.”

Her voice rang so clear in his ears. Flowed right through and soothed his erratic soul, his heartbeat ,which had been racing this entire time, slowed down to a steady beat. Nothing had ever sounded so right to him before in his life. And all he could do was stop and watch the way her lips moved as they embraced each syllable and word.

“Hard to understand right? The Ministry has been wiping away language in order to wipe away thought. There used to be 6,000 languages in the world. Today there are fewer than 60. Why do you think the Ministry wants to create one universal language on the 9?”

He answered without hesitation.

“For the connection and happiness of all Natives.”

They way his voice faltered. He used to be so sure and confident in society, its beliefs and morals, rules and regulations. He had known absolutely nothing so of course he thought nothing of it. Now he hadn't the foggiest idea of what to think about his world anymore.

Standing from her seated position on the bed, Mani made her way to the chaise against the wall to strip off her backpack and bulky jacket to reveal a thin tank with large sleeve cut outs. Her ample side cleavage just barely visible to Guy but enough to make his eye wonder to rest of her body as she removed her excess layers while still remaining totally engaged in the words she said.

“During the Second Civil War, the old tech companies, they built systems to predict our thoughts. Then they became the Ministry or the Ministry joined them and they sold us what we wanted, self and happiness, which the nine provides in spades and what you are hired to defend with fire.”

He was disappointed when she placed a thin sweater over her shoulders. Her pretty sable skin was like his own but seemed better? Silkier? He couldn't place it but he knew he didn't like the fact that she was shielding it from his gaze. Her declaration about the Ministry did pique his interest.

“So you’re telling me that people wanted it this way?”

“Nah they didn't do this to us. We did it to ourselves, demanded it even.”

The bright light of a drone passed by the window making Guy change his position so that the light would not catch him. He leans against the wall to further take his frame out of site, keeping his eye on the window he continues to speak.

“Let me ask you something. Benjamin Franklin. Did he start the first fire department?”

Mani knew that lie well. Why these mortals insisted in telling it, she had no clue.

“To put fires out, not start them.”

“Beatty told me the opposite.”

“Oh I know exactly what he told you. He’s really a creep, you should see about getting a new captain or something. He’s awful. He might believe that himself or perhaps he's lying. Maybe when he was in your position, his captain lied to him. Do you have trouble with memory? Take a lot of drops?”

He took a beat and was about to answer the question but felt too much in the hot seat so now was the time to flip the script.

“What about you? Can you remember your past?”

Now there was a question the short, once ethereal beauty had no answer to. She truly couldn’t recall anything of the life she had prior to becoming one of her Goddess’ holy disciples. She would get fragments ever so often but nothing was ever quite clear enough for her to decipher. Blinking rapidly, she briskly walked past Guy to enter her kitchen asking him if he was hungry. His eyes follows her full figure flitting about the space. He sensed her hesitation to answer but wanted to know more about her. Her delicate but brazen way of calling him out on his own and the world’s techno-totalitarian bullshit intrigued him. He would watch from afar during her meetings with the captain, always close enough to see and hear but not ever approaching her himself. He felt drawn to her by some odd cosmic force that there was no explanation for. He watches her pour some clear liquid into a small cup then turned to face with a bittersweet look on her face leaning back with her hands braced upon the counter tops.

“What about your parents? Can you remember them?”

“I was raised by Eels to be an Eel posing as a Native. We read, watched movies, all that you are instructed to burn was ours and by the time I was a teenager, I wanted to be like you. Normal. So I run away to consume myself with the life. Drowned my eyes in drops, got hooked on the 9, the whole bit and for awhile it worked, I was happy. Then shit happened. I started selling graffiti to survive.”

A sinking sense of guilt washed over Mani’s head like a destructive cumulonimbus cloud as she turned her back to him. That woman who burned herself on the 9.

“I didn't know that woman would be there.”

That got the gears in Guy’s head turning even faster than they already were. A whirlwind of thoughts invading his brain.

“I never thought about the people behind the things that I burn. I mean they must have spent their entire lives making things and here I come, in two seconds, it’s gone.”

Just like my life amongst the panthers and my Goddess. Taken from me without my knowing.

She had begun to slowly turn back to face his leaning body in her kitchen door frame, their eyes locked for what could have been an eternity. Electricity passing between their pupils.

You’re on your way my darling. Keep going.

“I want to show you something.”

She rushes back to the other room to her backpack to retrieve the harmonica she had found and repaired earlier that day. There were many things she was allowed to do in the Ancestral Plane that the Natives of this world couldn't even grasp the concept of since it had been completely annihilated from their culture. Music being one of them. Raising the small metal instrument to her mouth and cupping it gently, she blew out a beautiful clear melodic note almost scaring Guy then began a little jaunty tune. He had never heard this kind of thing before and was unsure as to what sound he would get. It was most definitely not what he thought would come out. He looks on at Mani, his eyes never leaving her as she stepped slowly around the open space of her apartment, playing the kitchy jiggle. She steps closer to her bed lowering herself to sit on the bed as she moved the hand she held on the outside up and down changing the sound and finishing the song with a bouncy flourish. A small and genuine small graced Guy’s face and she felt this surge of emotion in her chest as he looked at her. Shyness. No one hadn't looked at her like that in more years than she could remember. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t remember anyone every looking at her with the sense of adoration he seemed to. That made her cheeks warm and her heart flutter. She holds the music piece out to him.

“Try it.”

He angles his head in a teasing manner as if to ask was she serious. Mani smiles softly at him.

“Come on.”

With that, he walks over to take the seat right next to her on the bed and takes the harmonica in hand. He turns it over back and forth to try to see the mechanics of how such a small device could make such pretty and resonating sounds. Then he attempted to cup his hands around it in the same manner she had just done. Anubis decided it was a good idea to make himself comfortable on the lap, curling his tail around his body purring which surprised both humans present.

“Like this?”

Mani smile widens a little and she nods her head. He blows out a harsh breath resulting in a loud harmonic toot which frightens them both causing them to chuckle. He liked the way her giggle sounded, it warmed him. He did it a second time, this time a much slower, gentler sound came since he had not put so much force into it. Giggling, she placed her smaller hands on his to form them better on the instrument.

“Here try it like this. There you go now try it again.”

He was starting to get lost in the way her hands felt touching him. Though it was innocent in nature, it lit a small fire in him. Mani had felt the heat the second their skin touched. She kept her hand over his as she instructed him to try again and shook his hand the way she had done hers to make that musical quiver. Judging by the look on his face when he stopped playing, he was pretty pleased with himself and even more pleased with her. Guy tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as they kept each other’s gaze while sitting shoulder to shoulder. The closest they had been the entire night. He would be coming back to see her without a doubt.

And he did for weeks on end, he would come and she would read aloud for him. He couldn't get enough of her voice, her smell, her touch, everything just had to be her. It was an almost suffocating but euphoric feeling he felt every time they spent within the 4 walls of her small apartment. She would read a passage of the book and then hand it over to him so he could take over. At first he took the book with trepidation, unsure if he could read as deeply as she does then that feeling was all but forgotten once he began to sound off. Work had began to get more demanding and Beatty more merciless as the pressure of his impending new position weighed on him. Flashbacks of his father being beaten outside in the rain by his fellow firemen flashed in his eyes constantly as he worked to capture the very people he had become. It became his double life coming to Mani’s place and he looked forward to every single visit. They began to get closer to one another. Small touches turned to lingering holds, sitting side by side to her cuddling against his chest as he read. They were falling in love and yet her Goddess hadn't come to take her from this hellhole of a universe.

Be patient my pupil. You still have much to learn.

With that, the fallen woman would leave those thoughts be and continue to enjoy her Guy. She was beginning to understand what all the mortal commotion was about. Until one night the fire squad came to the shop she often fixes graffitti and lined all who were there in a line demanding answers. The captain walks up and down the line like a predator stalking its prey, judging which one of them would be the easiest catch.

“I know one of your Eels knows something about the Omnis.”

He stopped right in front of her. eyes scanning and probing into her very being. He was much too close for her and Guy’s comfort, who was watching the encounter nearby. The desire to step in and interfere was overwhelming and hard to suppress but he know that if he did he would have more of an issue on his hand. He remained on his guard. The captain leaned close enough that Mani could feel his breath upon on her cheek and whispered.

“What if I told these people what you do? What would be worse… What I do to you or what they would?”

He takes several steps back to observe her firm face but eyes hard with a twinge of fear. Despite not truly caring about this world, Abhimani know the consequences of it. Having dealt with it herself in the past, she wasn't trying to get tangled in any of that ever again. And she had finally got her mate…

“We’re all the same here.”

A tall, slender man stepped forward out of the line in her defense shocking her and the man who stood to torment her.

“Whatever you do to her, you do to us.”

Beatty signals a weapon be handed to him and proceeded to go over to the outspoken man.

“Is that so? I understand. You wanna be help each other. Comradery and all that..”

With that last word, the captain bludgers the man with the blunt end of the weapon and continues down the line.

“I am your judge and I am your court. I receive you when you come and…”

He strikes another in the line.

“I dismiss you when you go!”

Guy couldn't watch anymore nor could he risk anything happen to Mani so he slicked off to the building’s breaker box, flipping the switch and shrouding the entire place in darkness right as Beatty was close to her. He ignited the fire on his flamethrower to shed some light as the Eels fled the scene rapidly. The captain commanded his subordinates to gather them back together and everything was in chaos around her. She tries to dip and dodge the firemen but trips over her own feet under the weight of her heavy backpack. Guy catches her in his arms.

“Come on. Come here.”

His eyes dart around to make sure they are not being watched which seems highly plausible in all the ruckus. He guides her to exit and she turns to him.

You have to let him go for now!

But my Lady I just found him!

I never said it was over silly girl now go!

With the warning growl from her Goddess, Mani takes off running to her place so that she can gather some supplies to escape. There was still some people she know would help her if she just got to them before the firemen caught up with her. The city was on the ultimate lockdown, transit checkpoints, border patrols, and all were ordered to “stay vivid on the 9.”

Mani rummages around her small space, grabbing what she needed for her journey. Her adrenaline was still pumping from the earlier and her hands shook as she packed. The sudden knock on her door startles her. She gingerly approaches it before peeking out the makeshift peephole and letting out a sigh of relief seeing it was her mate. The door flies open followed by Guy hastily walking in and immediately grabs her in his hands looking her over frantically.

“Are you ok? You hurt? I wanted to leave with you but I..”

“Montag slow down. I’m fine but I have to get out of here. Did anyone follow you here?”

Mani gently wriggles her body out his iron grasp, turning to resume her semi-organized packing job. He watched her move around her place just as he had during his first visit but his eyes that were once filled with curiosity and desire burned with sadness and despair.

“No I was looking over my shoulder the whole way here. Wait where you gonna go?”

“A compound far out. Some family friends hiding out there I think I can help.”

“Mani there’s checkpoints all over the city. You think you can make it there?”

“I have connections to avoid those.”

By this time, she had stopped her rummaging and found herself standing face to face with him. They stared and stared hoping one of them could find the answers to all their problems. Both of their emotions in a tizzy. How could they give each other up so quickly when they had finally gotten close? She didn't want to let him go. What did all this mean?

I swear I love my Goddess but she's making things very difficult for me. This isn't fair.

She couldn’t express what she was feeling. Perhaps it was what it felt like when a puzzle was missing that one piece. Utterly incomplete and totally wrong. She wasn't sure if she could bare being separated from him again, not when she had finally gotten to know his heart.

“Will I ever see you again?’

She wasn't sure if the question was for Guy or for his soul that was connected to hers. The softly uttered question made his heart flutter. She raised a hand to his cheek, holding his face in her palm. His hand comes to her wrist wrapping his fingers around it gently with his thumb running across her skin. Their faces graviated closer to each other with each passing breath until they seemed to be exchanging oxygen, both sets of lips so ready to touch when the door unexpectedly bursts open and firemen pour in. Beatty saunters in, hands clasped together in front of him with a mischievous look in his face with an evil intent. The two were jerked apart despite the tight hold they had on each other.

“You really thought we weren't watching you. You should be a little smarter than that Montag.”

“Just leave her alone captain. I'll take whatever punishment you deem appropriate, just let her go.”

Beatty looked as though he was actually contemplating his request. Mani could hear her heartbeat in her ears, feel it in her throat, and struggled to keep it in her chest. The room was so silent you could practically each passing puff of air out of every mouth present.

“That’s a pretty good offer there. Why don't we start right here?”

He had unsheathed a blade that no one saw coming and filled Mani’s abdomen with its metal. Seeing what the captain had done, Guy began to thrash against the hold of his fellow firemen but they held fast.

As her vision began to blur all she could her was her mate’s cries and her own thoughts.

Well goddamn it that wasn't supposed to happen.

——————————

TAGS: @jozigrrl @itsangeludaku @thehomierobbstark @hearteyes-for-killmonger @muse-of-mbaku @amethyst1993 @killmongersgurl @trevantesbrat @iamrheaspeaks @princesskillmonger @ayellepea @vikkidc @laketaj24 @madamslayyy @thereturnofbadazz @purple-apricots @thadelightfulone @theunsweetenedtruth @wakanda-inspired @panthergoddessbast @blackpantherismyish @yaachtynoboat711 @forbeautyandlife @bidibidibombaclaat @quietstorm-73 @youreadthatright

#Next Lifetime #Erik Stevens #Adonis Creed #Wallace #Guy Montag #Abhimani Wright #Soulmate AU #vanity writes #my shit #Bastet #Panther Goddess Bast #Erik x Black OC

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rethinkingthefaith · 4 years

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Wanted: An End to Dogmatic Religion

Dogmatists think it their sworn duty to pass judgment on their brethren. They see it as a great commandment to spatter fellow Christians with the title "heretic," and that duty they discharge with all diligence.

They also use such terms as "deceiver" and "false teacher," sometimes even “antichrist”, but their relationship with the word "heretic" is special. It echoes through the ages of religious bigotry. In a bygone era, the cry of "heretic" sent men and women to the flames and a host of unspeakable tortures at the hands of "the orthodox." It is only fitting, then, that today’s super-orthodox should have such an attachment to the word.

The amazing thing is that the issues that distinguish the "heretics" from the "orthodox" are highly abstract with few, if any, practical applications. Neither the precise natures of God and Christ, the dynamics of the atonement, nor the means of creation, produces the Christ-like goodness so essential to discipleship.

Dogmatism convolutes the mission of Christ. Why did Jesus walk among sinners and preach his message? Was it to make men theologically astute? Did Jesus come chiefly to give us right metaphysics, to present dogmas to the mind?

The doctrinal stalwart believes so, at least in part. To him, one of the great duties before God is to mark the right doctrinal box on the Christian checklist and to drive from the church all who don’t. The doctrine may have nothing to do with whether he loves God or neighbor, but to him, it is a matter of spiritual life and death. The dogmatist must expose all who deviate. He must ruin their reputations in the Christian community, and for this, he expects someday to hear the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Many heretic hunters will respond by quoting New Testament passages that condemn false teachers. There must, therefore, be such a thing, and it must be incumbent upon the church to find them and drag them into the light of day. So goes the reasoning.

But the reasoning is flawed. Virtually every false teaching attacked in the New Testament is ethical in character. The biblical authors oppose these teachings because they led to either immoral living or harsh asceticism. The condemnation is not over the doctrine’s technical incorrectness, but over the consequences of belief in it.

Gnosticism, for example, in one form taught that matter was unredeemable. It made no difference to Gnostics, therefore, what one did with the body. This led to sexual promiscuity and perversion. The early churches were infected with this teaching. It endangered Christian purity. The New Testament writers condemned it on these grounds.

The Judaizing sects also caused problems in the church. They took the unfettered character of the faith and killed it. Austere Christians (as they do today) put heavy burdens on the saints. But Jesus never imposed any of these laws on his followers. Such things were never his emphasis. He knew they engendered only pride, an outward show of piety. This was the "other gospel" anathematized by Paul in Galatians. It was not an abstract belief about the nature of Jesus or the mechanics of salvation. This is a point the dogmatists always miss.

Another is that false teachers of Paul's day openly withstood the apostles and led away disciples after themselves. They shouted down the very messengers that Christ had sent into the world. For this Paul, John and others issued stern rebuke. But honest dissenters from orthodoxy today (at least the responsible ones) do not rise up and demonize Paul. They, like their orthodox detractors, acknowledge the New Testament authors as authoritative. It is a matter of differing interpretation of the same data, not a flouting of apostolic authority.

Still, the objection is common: The Bible enjoins us to follow sound doctrine, but the word "doctrine" simply means "teaching." We would really be better off if we discarded the old term "doctrine," for it is misleading. Many Christians think it means "abstract, theological concept," but there is no justification for this thinking. Any teaching is a doctrine. Jesus’ statement "love your enemies" is a doctrine, a teaching.

Another misunderstood word is "heresy." Look up the word in a concordance or a lexicon. You will find that it does not address doctrine per se, but only division. A heresy is anything that proves divisive. A heretic is one who ruins unity among brothers and sisters. Yes, false teaching can divide Christians, and thereby be a heresy, but so can true teaching and the insistence upon theological purity. Dogmatism is itself a heresy, maybe the worst. Few things have so severed the communion of saints. Few things have so pitted brother against brother, as William Ellery Channing so eloquently points out:

"It is truly wonderful, if excommunication for supposed error be the method of purifying the church, that the church has been so long and so woefully corrupted. Whatever may have been the deficiencies of Christians in other respects, they have certainly discovered no criminal reluctance in applying this instrument of purification. Could the thunders and lightnings of excommunication have corrected the atmosphere of the church, not one pestilential vapor would have loaded it for ages. The air of Paradise would not have been more pure, more refreshing. But what does history tell us? It tells us that the spirit of exclusion and denunciation has contributed more than all other causes to the corruption of the church, to the diffusion of error; and has rendered the records of the Christian community as black, as bloody, as revolting to humanity, as the records of empires founded on conquest and guilt." [1]

But, says the detractor, how do we know what to believe unless we have an orthodoxy pointing the way? The answer is that only those things that are obviously Christian – part and parcel of the church’s witness from day one – should be deemed indispensable. These are the great themes that traverse the sacred scriptures from cover to cover, then the life of the church from the first century to the 21st. They shape the character into the image of Jesus. These, and only these, are the non-negotiables.

I believe we must each decide for ourselves what these central tenets are. (The alternative is to let someone else decide for you.) I’ve come up with my own list of non-negotiables. They are small in number, but are believed by nearly all Christians in one form or another. Dogmatists complain that these things are "least-common denominators," but in today’s increasingly secular age, they may yet be revolutionary.

I would include the following:

God is a Heavenly Father, characterized by love, goodness and justice.

Jesus bore a profound relation to God and exhibited the divine characteristics to a profound degree.

He was crucified as a supreme act of self-sacrifice. Three days later, his followers had an encounter with him that shook their lives and changed the world.

By the Holy Spirit, he bears a special relation to his people, who have found him to be a source of strength, healing, inner peace.

There is a future life.

Wickedness and righteousness will be recompensed.

God desires that we live in faith, peace, love, goodness, self-control, servant-hood.

Prayer is of great benefit.

There exists a family of saints, an intimate connection between members of the faith family. They meet regularly, become involved in each other’s lives, partake of the Lord’s Supper and practice baptism in one form or another.

No, this is not a creed. Creeds are meant to condemn non-conformists. It is a personal interpretation of what is basic to Christian faith. If someone wants to omit baptism, for example, for his or her belief system, I won’t hurl insulting names at them or deny them the Christian name. I will simply realize that not all Christians see things as I do.

My list omits doctrinal refinements, such the nature of God, the atonement, the meaning of inspiration. I believe these are side issues. To be openly dogmatic about them is to sow dissension and, thereby, become a true heretic.

If we must adhere to a creed, let it be that ancient minimalist statement of faith, the Apostle's Creed. Here is a basic set of truths that most Christians can agree upon (give or take a few points). For large portions of Christendom, this sufficed for a long time. Not until Christ's people drank deeply from the well of Greek speculation did the arcane become binding.

The world is unimpressed with our erudite arguments. Our metaphysics seldom lay hold of the human heart. But when a group of social-minded Christians moves into a disaster area to fix houses, people notice. When a man accustomed to wild, self-centered living, adopts a Christian character, it astounds all who know him. Nobody cares whether he embraces one of the historic creeds. They see life, and that's all that matters to them.

It is time, more than ever, to unite on the heart of Christian faith, to live it rather than demand conformity to somebody’s idea of "essentials," and to exalt the parable of the Good Samaritan above the churches’ most hallowed creeds and confessions.

Dogmatism has had its day. Its chronicles reek of shed blood. Broken lives and relationships litter its halls. But a new day is here, theological bigotry must now be relegated to the dead past.

Dogmatism needs a stake through its heart.

Footnotes

1 Channing, W.E., "The System of Exclusion and Denunciation in Religion Considered," from The Works of William E. Channing, D.D, (Boston: American Unitarian Association) 1889, p. 488.

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scriptmyth · 7 years

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do you have any japanese ( shinto, underground, or otherwise ) myths related to death ( and/or rebirth )?

Hello,

We do indeed have some Japanese myths for you.

So when it comes to mythology about death in Japan, most people are likely to think about Shinigami. However, it’s a term that has been used to describe a broad range of entities. It wasn’t even a commonly used term until the Edo period (1603-1868) and even then was usually used to describe a malevolent spirit that would posess people and make them want to commit suicide. They could be family members with a grudge or simply bad spirits attracted to people with negative feelings, causing them to seek death. Sometimes a shinigami could be attached to a single area and would convince people to die by similar means there repeatedly. It’s only been recently, approximately since the 80’s, that shinigami have been regarded similarly to Western notions of death and have taken on individual personalities.

According to Shinto mythology there were two primary gods: the male Izanagi and female Izanami created by the first gods Kunitokotachi and Amenominakanushi. Between themselves, Izanagi and Izanami created the islands of Japan and bore many gods in the Shinto pantheon. The last child that Izanami bore was Kagu-tsuchi, a god of fire, and he burned her, causing her death. Izanagi was so furious that he slew Kagu-tsuchi, cutting him into eight pieces which became eight volcanoes. The drops of his blood created yet more gods, as did Izanami when her death throes churned up the sea.

Izanagi was so distraught at Izanami’s death that he decided to go to Yomi, the land of the dead, to bring her back. He searched everywhere for her in the darkness until he finally heard her voice, and begged her to return with him to the land of the living. She told him that she could not, having already eaten the food of the underworld. However, the next day she would ask the gods of Yomi for permission to leave. They laid down to sleep but Izanagi became impatient and wished to see his beautiful wife again. Taking out the wooden comb that held back his hair, he lit it to make a torch so he could finally see her.

However, he was horrified to discover she was now a rotten corpse, full of maggots and worms. Izanagi cried out and ran for the door to the land of the living, abandoning Izanami. She awoke and, discovering that he had seen her, set a horde of thunder gods and shikome (ugly hag spirits) after him to bring him back. She too joined the chase and they pursued him all the way to the entrance to the living world. Izanagi was just fast enough to out run them though and managed to push a boulder across the mouth of the cave that served as the portal between life and death.

Furious that Izanagi had abandoned her, Izanami swore to take 1000 residents of the living world every day. In return, Izanagi swore that he would create 1500 lives to replace them. The two separated in anger and Izanami remained in Yomi, becoming the queen there.

In terms of Buddhist beliefs and myths about death, how many days do you have? There are at least a dozen different schools of Buddhism practiced in Japan, several with multiple subsets of worship and belief styles. They are as different as the variations on Western Christianity which is to say the difference can be major of subtle. Now in termas of general beliefs, there is a Pure Land and a Hell which the soul may travel to after death. The Pure Land is a nirvana where the spirit can most easily reach enlightenment. Hell is a place of punishment where evil souls must atone for their sins before they can hope to move on.

I’m going to preface the rest of this with the caveat that not all of these beliefs are universal. Some schools of Buddhism may embrace them while others may reject them. With that said, Here we go.

Pure Land Buddhism teaches that after death, the spirit takes a new name to cut ties to its prior human life and embrace a new existence in the afterlife. It is also believed that after the body is cremated, the spirit starts a 49-day spiritual journey to reach its destination, which frees it from any bonds to the physical world. Some Japanese Buddhists believe that when they die, they must cross the Sanzu River to enter the afterlife. The river has three crossings. Those who lived good lives can cross a bridge. The spirits of people who lived ordinary lives can cross at a shallow path across the river. However, those who lived bad lives are compelled to walk through the river’s waters, which are inhabited by demons and other horrors. At the banks of the Sanzu River stand Datsueba, a female demon, and Keneo, a male demon. Datsueba unclothes the dead and Keneo weighs their clothes to measure their karma. Buddhists hold special ceremonies on the days they expect their departed loved ones will be making the crossing. (Source)

Many families celebrate Obon every year, typically on August 15th,although there is some local variation as it was originally held on the 15th day of the 7th lunar month. For three days family members will honor the spirits of their ancestors who are believed to return to their graves on these days. Families with offer food and flowers at the grave site and say prayers. Festivals are usually accompanied by a dance and music meant to welcome the spirits. There’s a wide variation in the regional traditions here so I recommend looking into this further on your own.

The festival’s practice is derived from the story of Maha Maudgalyayana (Mokuren), a Buddhist disciple who used his supernatural powers to look upon his mother in death. To his dismay, he saw that she had fallen into the realm of Hungry Ghosts and was suffering terribly. He immediately went to the Buddha and asked how he could free her from her suffering. The Buddha instructed him to present offerings to the many Buddhist monks who had just completed their summer retreat, on the fifteenth day of the seventh month. The disciple did this and, thus, saw his mother’s release. Note that there are variations of this story in different countries that practice Buddhism as well.

In terms of the funeral itself, it’s considered bad luck to say words that indicate repetition, lest you invite another death. Attendees will also typically be given salt to sprinkle over themselves or their front doorstep to purify themselves and protect themselves from bad luck. Attendees will also change out of their funeral clothes as soon as they get home for simillar reasons. Funerals wil probably not be held on the auspicious day of tomo-biki for fear of pulling a friend of the deceased into death (the phrase tomodachi o hiku “pull a friend along” contracts into tomobiki).

Regarding beliefs on the Buddhist afterlife and Hell, I defer to Matt Meyer who runs a great blog on Japanese mythology and monsters in general. These two articles on Meido and Jigoku might be a good place for you to start though.

If you have any more specific questions or questions about the answer given, please feel free to send another ask our way. We’re more than happy to help clarify.

-the Chorus

#suicide #death #shinto #mythology #myths #japanese #rebirth #buddhist #chorus #ask #answer #sharpobj-ct

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letters-from-paradise · 5 years

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47. Flow

https://youtu.be/KU3oVtZmq68

Welcome to Letters from Paradise Episode number 47, which I’ve called ‘Flow’ - it’s part of the Affection set.

When St Paul exhorts the Church to be affectionate (1) the Greek word used is Philostorgos (2). This word specifically refers to the tenderness and expressed love within a family, especially between parents and children.

It shows that the family is the nursery where our human affection is awakened and healthily grows (as well as given safe boundaries). This includes our ability to experience intimacy with another, which is also formed through the development of affection in our lives.

And so those who have the task of nurture, usually Mum and Dad, have the wonderful privilege of calling forth that life so the person becomes beautifully prepared to give and receive affection - a key attribute to being fully human as our Creator intended.

So what Paul writes to the Romans, and to other churches to whom he is an Apostle - a father - what he writes represents an expansion of something intrinsic to the family unit. Paul is putting family affection - Philostorgos - into the communities of believers. There’s a pattern here. The affection that is the defining flow between Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is poured into the creation. Affection is then the defining flow within human families. Now, the great Apostle is placing it as a defining flow in the churches.

But we know that the love that’s the very essence of the Trinity (3) has been poured into the whole creation, including every man, woman, boy and girl - the flow was never designed to stop at the family, or the church, it is to flow to the very extremities of God’s creation - everyone and everything (4).

I think that’s why Paul Young’s book The Shack resonates with so many people, we come away knowing that Papa is tender and warm; he touches and embraces, he both weeps and rejoices in shared feeling with others, he is a God of nearness and intimacy.

It was reading The Shack that set me off on this most thrilling of all journeys, and centremost to every day of it has been the experience of affectionate love (5).

Unfortunately, sometimes tragically, a true and full experience of tender affection is not found in families. In extreme cases, some families became places where children only knew abuse. For others, their families were so regimented by rules administered by aloof fathers, that natural affection was never felt (6). St Paul also uses the word astorgos - the negative of Philostorgos. Astorgos is defined and translated: unloving, unsociable, without natural affection, inhuman, and hard hearted (7)

What the Bible is showing us is that a loving affection between people everywhere is God’s great desire for mankind - and Paul is writing to ensure it will not be found wanting in the Church. “Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love.” (1) The Church, at least, was to be a place where true tender affection would be restored to misshapen souls.

Perhaps Paul knew that some churches would become places of control, abuse, rules and self-important leaders. No wonder fear-based dogmas against people of other religions, and differing gender identity sometimes thrive in these places. Even people with political differences can feel marginalised, and racial and cultural partiality is only thinly veiled.

This is not the Church Jesus Christ ever wanted. No! “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear” (8), John the beloved disciple was to write.

If anything, Jesus, Paul and John saw a people through whom kindness and affection would flow to all the earth; reminding the spirit and soul of every person that they are a child of the Divine - that love is their true home.

In the context of the family, I have learned that the greatest gift I can give my children, their spouses and my grandchildren is show them tender affection. It’s something that money can’t buy, and will set them up for success in life, especially relational success.

And then, not letting the flow stop there, but to warmly embrace and speak tenderly to men and women no matter how “other” they are to me …

O there are countless stories where affection has broken down barriers, started warring factions talking again to each other, healed historical scars, and released forgiveness and reconciliation. We can do this. Shalom.

__________________________

Notes:

Romans 12:10

Philostorgos https://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?t=kjv&strongs=g5387

1 John 4:16

1 Timothy 1:5

The Shack https://www.bookdepository.com/The-Shack/9780340979495

Many of we baby-boomers had fathers who returned traumatised from the horrors of the Second World War – men who had an inner woundedness that made playful, warm and tender interaction with their children difficult; and the normal development of affection suffered. (We should add “over-busy” or “preoccupied” to those words that describe fathers who can become disengaged from affectionate interaction with their children).

Astorgos https://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?t=kjv&strongs=g794

1 John 4:18

__________________________

Question:

One: Have you ever been “taught” fear? Resulting in avoiding, rather than seeking to show affection towards another person? Please elaborate.

Two: Are there any ways that you endeavour to show genuine warmth towards others? How would you advise someone who finds this challenging?

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astridstorm · 5 years

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The Pull of the Past, The Call of the Future: A Reflection on 3 Years

So, it was three years ago almost to the day that I stood up here for the first time, June 26, 2016. Just curious, I looked back at my calendar from three years ago. Here were some of the things on it: Dinner at Barbara and John Palmer’s. (Who are Barbara and John Palmer?) No, I didn’t really write that, but I was thinking it at the time. They were so kind as to invite my family to dinner in those first days here, as did Patrick and Deidre Wynne.

This was sobering. My first week: Monday June 20 (first day), 7:30 pm wedding meeting; Tuesday June 21, 7:30 - 9:30 pm vestry meeting; Wednesday June 22, 7-9 pm finance meeting; Friday June 24, 7 pm wedding rehearsal; Saturday June 25, 1:30 pm wedding; Sunday June 26, first Sunday in Scarsdale. You definitely didn’t ease me into the job!

In my sermon from three years ago on this day, which was on these very same readings (we’re on a 3-year cycle), I pointed out that Jesus begins here his journey to Jerusalem that lasts all the way from now through the summer and up to Advent. We’ll be reading these stories for a while. But it seemed to me kind of significant that the story for today was about embarking on something new.

This time around I feel like I can be more candid than I was then about what it’s like to start something new; about our inner resistance to it, and the strength it takes to overcome that resistance, make a change, and then keep on going forward, into the future. I was there three years ago, but I know we’ve all been there, once, maybe many more times in our lives.

We meet in this Gospel lesson three people along the way. They’re a contrast to Jesus’ resolve. He “sets his face” toward Jerusalem, an expression that means He’s ready for this. He’s on his way. No looking back. They’re also a contrast to the resolve Elisha showed in our Old Testament lesson when he cut up his plough, burned it, and followed his new teacher and mentor Elijah, just like that. For that matter, they’re a contrast to the resolute disciples, who drop everything, their nets, their livelihoods, their families, to follow Jesus. For these three in today’s Gospel reading, it’s different.

The first person to approach Jesus says “I will follow you wherever you go.” To which Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes, birds of the air have nests, but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head.” In other words, this is going to be a trying journey. If you follow me, I can’t guarantee comfort. You might experience just the opposite: no rest, no shelter, a lot of disorientation, displacement and discomfort. We don’t know what happens to that would-be follower, but he seems to just disappear.

Jesus actually calls out to the next person in the story. “Follow me” he says. And the reply is “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” To which Jesus says “Let the dead bury their own dead.” There was a time when this expression was fairly familiar to your average person, back when our culture was more biblically literate. Let the dead bury their own dead. It’s harsh.

Karl Marx loved this expression, atheist though he was. He used it many times, in speeches and in writing. He thought it was about making a radical break from the past. Creating something new: leave the dead, the past, behind, where it belongs. The world needs something unlike what we’ve tried before. I read somewhere else that a World War II soldier included this saying among his things, like his dog tags, that would be found should he die on the battlefield. He meant it for his friends, to let them know it was OK to move on without him after he died, and to go on living their lives without guilt or sorrow over him. Let the dead bury their own dead.

We don’t hear this much any more, but as an admonishment not to be pulled too much by the past that you can’t move into the future, it really works. Jesus’ listener in this passage, though, can’t hear it. He too (as far as we know), disappears.

The third person in our reading comes bounding up and says “ I will follow you, Lord,” but then he adds to that “but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” We’re meant to think of Elisha and Elijah in the Old Testament passage we just read. Remember how I once said the Bible is hyperlinked? One passage, links to another, and to another, and on and on. Elijah let Elisha go home and say goodbye. Surely this was a reasonable request for this person to make. But Jesus responds: “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Making a change is demanding. It’s hard. Jesus’ honesty about this is hard to argue with if you’ve been through it before. When I was three months into my time here, that would have been in September/October, I had a recurring dream at night. My prior church (this is for real) was nestled between the Hudson River and the Metro North tracks, where there was a station. The tracks and the river were each about a stone’s throw in either direction. I had a recurring dream that I had left a baby on the New Hamburg train platform, and only after 3 months going about my life did I remember it (or him, or her).

In my waking life, I was trying very hard to embrace my new life, not to worry about or be pulled backward emotionally by my prior church and all the people I’d gotten to know and love over ten years there. And yet our dreams sometimes take on the emotions we can’t deal with during the day. It went on for seven more months, this dream, until the new priest there, an incredible person, took over. The church was my abandoned baby, and I could only stop dreaming about it when I knew some other mother had taken it to her breast.

I guess this is simply to say, the pull of the past on me that first year was significant, and it was everything I could do to keep my hand on the plow and not look back and so mess up the furrow I was making. And that’s an experience familiar to all of us. Whether it’s a move, a divorce, a death -- the three most stressful things in life -- whether it’s a new direction taken, a job change, a crisis of faith or a serious health setback. These three characters in today’s Gospel lesson ring familiar. Jesus’ advice to them, which they can’t hear but hopefully we can, is Keep Moving Forward. The future waits, and even though getting there may involve pain and discomfort, once you do get there you’ll realize why the journey was so worth setting out on. Amen.

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zuvluguu · 7 years

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The Case for Christ Consciousness By

Joran Slane Oppelt

“The most important Gospel you’ll ever read is the one that you write.”

– Reverend Russell Heiland

Did Jesus Exist?

There’s a curious 40-70 year span that occurs between Jesus’ death and the time that the apostles and their descendants were “inspired” to write the Gospels. That, combined with the fact that more than half of the Gospels weren’t even written by men alive during Jesus’ time, gives one cause for wonder. I, myself, wonder if I would trust the acquaintances of my friends (even if I considered them “disciples”) to correctly quote me two generations later about something as important as what I believed to be the “good news,” the living Word of God.

There’s also the ancient and familiar origins of the Jesus myth itself. The story of Jesus was not new to people at the time. In fact, Jesus’ life story has so many elements in common with other (and pre-existing) Mediterranean and Middle Eastern god-man hybrids — like the Persian story of Mithras (whose birth was attended by three shepherds), the Egyptian legend of Osiris (who was assassinated by conspirators, defeated death and returned to rule the afterlife), the Greek Dionysus (who celebrated a “last supper” with twelve trusted associates before his execution) and Zoroaster (also from Persia, who was “born of a virgin mother” and come to “crush the forces of evil”). Even the Hindu deity Krishna (thought to have lived anywhere from 3228 to 3rd Century BCE) is thought to be the inspiration for the Jesus myth (his father was a carpenter, his birth was marked by the appearance of a star, he healed the sick and the lame).

Any (or all) of these stories could prove to be the inspiration for the Jesus mythology, but not vice versa. In fact, St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430 CE) wrote, “This, in our day, is the Christian religion, not as having been unknown in former times, but as having recently received that name.”

So, if Jesus’ life was simply a more effective re-telling of re-hashed pagan and Occident stories and legends, then why does he matter? And, if we could separate the mythology of Jesus — of which so much has been added to after his “death” — from the message or teachings of Jesus, what might distinguish him, philosophically, from the hordes of other virgin-born messiahs of the day?

Love

Let’s start with Jesus’ ministry and his message of universal love (Agape), which is a different type of love than the world had seen to that point, and different even from the idea that God (the father) “so loved the world” that he sent his only Son to die.

Most of the so-called Axial sages (800 – 200 BCE) — from Socrates to Confucius to The Buddha — instructed their students and disciples in Oneness or non-duality, or to hold the entire world in their hearts. It was a spiritual (not to mention monotheistic) leap that was happening worldwide. A call to think beyond egocentrism (our selves and families), and ethnocentrism (our tribes and nations) — to attain a worldcentric perspective. This was a new paradigm that, to this day, few people attain. But, while The Buddha contemplated desires, and Judaism preached compassion for thy neighbor, and the Indians practiced ahimsa (non-violence), Jesus didn’t ask, he demanded Love from his followers. In fact, there are those that say a deep, sustained and unconditional Love is the central tenet of the Christian faith.

Jesus said, “A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.”

He also instructed us to reveal that love to the world, to wear it on the outside.

“Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick, and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works.”

This not-so-simple practice of love, compassion and Ultimate Concern (and a few armed Crusades here and there) got Christianity pretty far along in the world. It was even carried across the ocean to America, where it replaced the indigenous nature religions and today remains the largest religion on the planet, with Islam in second place and quickly closing the gap.

Heal Thyself

During the late 19th century, there arose entire movements in the United States around the ideas of faith healing. According to these schools of thought, not only was the Spirit of Christ in every fiber of our bodies, but the body and mind of Christ was also held up as the exemplar of perfect health and physical regeneration. A pure, energetic being made of light — with no disease, no attachment, free from karma and sin. A kind of ideal man, “full of grace and truth.” In fact, one of Osiris’ names (after his resurrection) was Wenennefer, which meant “the one who continues to be perfect.”

These New Thought movements (Christian Science, Unity) claimed that “Infinite Intelligence or God is the sole reality” and that “we are children of God, and therefore do not inherit sickness.” Sickness, therefore, might be the failure to realize this truth, and healing accomplished (partly) by the “affirmation of oneness with the Infinite Intelligence or God.” The image of Jesus as a divine healer was fully embraced. After all, Jesus had cured all forms of ailment (from blindness to leprosy), raised the dead, and performed all manner of medical miracles.

Unity founders, Charles and Myrtle Fillmore were so taken up by the healing power of prayer through the Christ Mind — that after ridding themselves of illness (a bad hip and tuberculosis, respectively), they began to host nightly prayer sessions and opened their home to all kinds of afflicted. This prayer service — a kind of guided meditation — which began as a small group gathering at the same time every night, continues on today in the form of a fully staffed 24-hour call center in Kansas City, MO.

Unity also began teaching a system known as the “Twelve Powers,” which identifies energy centers in the body (similar to chakras), which correspond not only to the Twelve Apostles but also to spiritual and psychological functions like “Will,” “Imagination,” “Power,” and “Love.”

Faith healing is, of course, not exclusive to Christians, and if we consider recent discoveries in quantum mechanics and the controversial field of zero point energy, then factor in Jung’s collective unconscious as it pertains to the science of mind, it’s possible that “faith healing” isn’t based on faith at all. When Jesus said, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there in the midst of them,” the statement could be more true than he intended. For, it’s quite possible that a healing intention holds real power no matter whose name you’re healing in the name of.

Christ Consciousness

Jesus was also the way-shower for the three faces of God (1st, 2nd and 3rd-person perspectives of Spirit), demonstrating at once that communicating about God, to God, and as God are not separate functions or faculties.

Lynne McTaggart wrote in her groundbreaking book The Field, “We are quantum beings. All living things are connected by an invisible web. The brain perceives the world through quantum frequencies. Everything is indivisible and living consciousness is not isolated. In effect, there’s nothing that is not part of this field. There’s nothing that is not God.”

If our continually-expanding consciousness, the ability to take more and more perspectives — not to mention the primordial drive toward increasing biological complexity — is directly related to the unfolding of the entire cosmos, then we — our interiors and exteriors — are all part of that whole. It is one action. It is, in fact, Spirit-in-Action.

Our mind, then, acts as a kind of compass, lens or prism, refracting and re-broadcasting this consciousness throughout our entire body (gross, subtle and causal) and the bodies of others, the way a transmitter carries information. And in our various attempts to improve, focus or attenuate our minds — through study, contemplation, prayer or meditation — we hold in place an ideal, a mind that is unclouded, that is both crystal-clear and ever-unfolding. A mind that is a reflection of the Cosmos itself. This is the mind of Christ, this is Christ Consciousness. And by any other name, it is the perfection always within you, “the part that is unchanging, and indestructible.”

You Are The Christ

In The Life and Morals of Jesus, also known as “The Jefferson Bible,” (a project finally completed by Thomas Jefferson in 1820) Jesus’ words are stripped of all other narrative, presenting his teachings in one place, and revealing them for what they are — a passionate form of spiritual wisdom the likes of which the world had never seen. In this context, the Sermon on the Mount begins to resemble something more like the Dhammapada or the Tao Te Ching — a sometimes poetic collection of universal insights into the human condition, with the power to effect real change in people and the world.

If we can never fully know who Jesus was, maybe we can find a real and deep understanding of what Jesus means to the world. After all, the Buddha was a prince whose lineage can be verified using any manner of genealogical sources, but we don’t need to see a certificate of birth to understand the message of The Enlightened One — that attachment to objects or desires leads down a painful path of inner conflict.

Jesus said, “When you see a cloud rise out of the west, straightway ye say, There cometh a shower, and so it is. And when ye see the south wind blow, ye say, There will be heat; and it cometh to pass. Ye hypocrites! Ye can discern the face of the sky and of the earth; but how is it, that ye do not discern this time?” Was he asking us to turn the scientific principles we would apply outwardly to geology and cosmology (principles that didn’t yet exist) onto the inner workings of our own minds? Was he suggesting they were one and the same?

Just as Jesus is popularly depicted parting his robes to reveal his glowing chest — open and vulnerable — we must peel away the layers of the myth to get to the pure heart and intention of Jesus, the man. Regardless of his origin, is it possible that Jesus was a rabbi, and a teacher, and a healer that was misunderstood, misquoted and possibly deified after his death? Is it possible that Jesus was more “enlightened” or smarter than his peers? Did Jesus’ brain contain a higher level of neuroplasticity than those that existed at the time, allowing him to access and retain higher states of consciousness? Was Jesus the Son of Man? the Son of God? All of the above?

Is it possible that the answers to these questions are already within your own heart?

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cynthiadshaw · 4 years

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Perspective & Advice for Those Facing Insurmountable Odds

Throughout our journey with Voyage, the one thing we have learned over and over is that hidden within every challenge is a blessing or opportunity. It’s up to us to determine whether a challenge we face will be a step back or the catalyst for a step forward.

We had the honor of connecting with some of the city’s brightest leaders and role models and we asked them our question of the month: What is the best advice you have for someone who feels like they are facing insurmountable odds.

Below, you’ll find their advice and links and other info so you can learn more about them, their work and how to connect with them. We’ll be interviewing many of these amazing individuals in the coming weeks, stay tuned.

Alex Hernandez | Photographer and Filmmaker

First of all I would like to say thank you for taking the time to read this, my advice for someone who is facing insurmountable obstacles is to never give up, even in the worst circumstances there is always a way out, take a second to clear your mind review your situation, ask yourself where I am standing up and where do I want to go?, make a plan, choose daily tasks to help you get closer to your goals, always remember that every challenge is a new opportunity to grow and learn, wake up early, go out and fight for what your dreams, be grateful for what you have, say “thank you” more often, and if you go to bed at night feeling that you are not working hard enough for you goals, is probably because you are not working hard enough.

@artisticlensstudio @alexhdz artisticlensstudio.com

Elizabeth Sisk | Family Portrait & Lifestyle Photographer

Elizabeth Sisk Photography

My advice to anyone feeling like they’re facing insurmountable odds would be to persevere and try to remember that everyone faces adversity at some point in their lives and it’s those periods of adversity or challenges that help us grow. I’m a strong believer that everything happens for a reason, so trying to find the lesson in whatever challenges you’re facing can really help change your perspective of the situation and even embrace it.

One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced was after my daughter was born, the adjustment from being an independent, carefree adult to putting her needs before everything else was incredibly difficult for me. You’re exhausted, giving all of yourself to this baby, and you have to dig deeper than you thought you could to just make it through another day. Eventually things started to get a little easier and coming out of the new baby fog I felt like I could do anything. Because of that journey, I started my photography business where I always try to extend grace and compassion to families who are dealing with the challenges of parenthood while giving them the gift of captured memories in this phase of their lives. That’s something all parents cherish and appreciate and I don’t think I would have the same sense of empathy, strength, patience, or passion to give that to families without my own motherhood journey.

elizabethsiskphotography.com @elizabethsiskphotos

Frank Sanchez | Dark Age Tattoo Artist

The best advice I can offer for anybody that feels they’re facing insurmountable odds is that you have to keep a positive attitude and be optimistic, you have to believe things are going to get better and put that energy out there in the universe, the mind is a powerful tool and you have to learn to rewire yourself to try and be successful and happy. Some of the most influential people in history have had to overcome truly difficult challenges and you have to look to them for inspiration and at the same time remove yourself from situations or individuals that you feel are holding you back.

Everyday we wake up is a new chance and a new beginning to try and become a better version of ourselves, you have to keep investing in yourself whether that’s spending more time picking up new skills that might bring new opportunities or improving your overall health whether it’s through yoga or hitting the gym more often.

@franciscosanchez_tattoo franksancheztattoo.com

Vanessa Contino | Model & Nursing Student

Photographer- Tony Redmer MUA- Stephanie Cantu Agency @Wallflower

The best advice I can give to someone who is facing insurmountable odds is to breath, take some “self-love” time through out the day and I think that will allow them to relax and focus on postive thoughts. I often think that in moments in life we are thrown a curved ball but we get to write our own outcomes and our own destiny and many time someone might forget that.

@vanessa_s_contino wallflowermanagement.com/girl_portfolio

Cortney McBride | Blogger & Probation Officer

To your friend who does all the things, the social butterfly who attends all the events, who brunches every weekend, who attend events during the work week, who is already on to go, and who is always busy with a social event. There might be a reason behind this, there might be a reason why your friend stays busy and is always on the go.

The moment I stop, even for a second, the moment I’m at home alone with my thoughts is the moment all the thoughts flood back into my mind. The thoughts of my divorce, the thoughts of friends walking out when I needed them most, the urge to drink alone at home begin. The worst part, the depression and anxiety start to get the best of me and put me back in that dark place I was in for the most part of last year. There’s a reason I’m always out, there’s a reason why I seem never to be home, even if it is just walking the dog. There’s a reason I’m always out and about, why my social calendar is booked, and why I like getting away and going out of town on the weekends, it is because I have to. I have to do all the things all the time because of my chronic depression and anxiety, because sitting and being still is a trigger for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a cup of coffee on my back patio with my dogs too, and I also enjoy a slower pace sometimes, but for the most part I have to have something in the future planned. Sometimes thinking about those plans in the future are the only things that gets me through the day. My life last year was consumed with so much emptiness, self-doubt, not feeling like I was enough. I try very hard to not go back to those dark days. So, I keep going, I go to all the social events, grand openings, concerts, new brunch spots and coffee places, I keep moving.

So many people have said to me, “”Your weekends look like so much fun,”” and trust me they are, but the reason behind all the fun isn’t so fun. At first getting out and being social exhausted me and it would take me hours to actually get out of bed, shower, do my hair and makeup, and to actually walk out of the house, and I still feel this why sometimes. But, this is what I had to do, this is what I knew I had to do, I couldn’t stay cooped up in a house by myself with no human interaction, and I knew this. I’ve suffered with depression and anxiety since I was a teenager. I’ve suffered with this so long that I know my triggers and I know how to attempt to pull myself out of it. I say attempt because as I’ve gotten older when I get into a depressed or anxious state, it takes me longer to pull myself out. My energy level in my 30’s is just not what it was in my teens and 20’s, which I’m assuming is normal.

I’ve also heard, “”How do you afford to do all of this?”” Well, nosey person, most of the things I do are completely free, cheap, discounted, or a special event that’s a set price, and also I have this thing where I’m also good with my money and don’t over spend. Although, I’m not going to lie it’s happen a time or two. Being out, being social, doing all the things, it’s my therapy and my coping skill so that I don’t fall in to another battle with depression and anxiety. I know I’ll always struggle with my anxiety and depression and that’s okay, it’s a part of who I am. I’ve learned to say no to things I don’t want to do, and yes to what I what to do. I’ve learned to take care of myself, and do what makes me happy. I wake up every day and just try to be a better person than the day before, so that I can leave this world a better place than what I found it.

If you have a friend that looks like they have it all together socially, is always on the go, is always out having fun, brunching, at the new coffee shop, at all the new grand openings, and doing all the things. There might a reason why this friend appears to living their best life, so offer to go to brunch, the farmers market, dinner, coffee or wherever with them. Who knows, maybe you’ll have fun and pick up a new hobby, or learn something new about yourself or your friend.

@cortney.mcbride

Bryan Gonzalez | Athlete | Trainer | Nutritionist

Every one deals with their own insurmountable odds, but not everyone knows how to handle these situations. For me it’s simple, the only time you fail is when you stop trying. No matter how hard it gets or how impossible something may seem you must continue to fight and maintain a positive outlook. Just remember there’s always someone out there who has it worse than you, be grateful and keep fighting. Life is a battle but the real battle is within yourself.

@_bryan.gonzalez

Victor Uzoigwe | The bearded Champ

For every odd that you face that is too great to overcome, look at it as if it is something ta you have been through already and then disciple your mind to teach yourself for odds that are too great it can be resolved cause at the day of the day is either you fail or you succeed but the choice of failure or success is left to how much you want to overcome those odds.

@iamvctor

David F Wilson | Car Enthusiast

Life is full of ebbs and flows, realize even a tsunami ends in a calm ocean. Break down the insurmountable odds you’re facing into smaller chunks, and remember to keep your faith- & know this too shall pass.

@dfwscars

Ian Bartlett | Photographer & filmmaker

I have built an ongoing friendship with some of the subjects in my Bikelife project and have chatted with them on this very subject.

First of all I would say without hesitation that we have all experienced a situation or period in our lives that we felt we could not overcome. Its important to know this because in the age of social media it could ‘appear’ that your peers are having a wonderful life when you are going through difficult times and nothing could be further from the truth. Feelings of depression and anxiety are certainly more common than we are led to believe but just by opening up the subject up for discussion helps break down the misconceptions that you have to deal with these feelings on your own.

I feel that talking is the best form of helping you to process your thoughts. Find someone you don’t mind sharing your thoughts with. It can be a person you confide in or better still a professional, trained with the skills to help decipher what it is you’re going through. This needn’t be a financial burden as there are charitable organisations out there such as the Samaritans that will listen to you or help you find a group session.

There are some self help practises you can do which really have really helped me in the past. Mindfulness is a great technique to help you keep a positive mind. Most feelings of insurmountable odds are just that. Feelings, and all cases, there is light at the end of the tunnel…

In this day and age, its easy to get caught up in other peoples lives via social media platforms. This can have an extremely negative effect on your thoughts and drive you to a negative place. I would suggest turning off notifications or even temporarily removing social apps. By doing this you can eliminate some of the causes of your ill feelings and focus your attention to more productive, positive goals. The aim is to find a solution to the issue at hand but first you must make your mind healthy.

Its important to take a break once in a while. Exercise, walk, run, cycle etc. For me, cycling and photography is a great form or meditation because it takes my mind away from what can be an otherwise stressful life.

@bartlettville @thebartlett

Angel Williams | photographer and visionary

My advice for someone who is going through something insurmountable would be to take it one day at a time, don’t stress over what you can’t control, and trust and believe that God wouldn’t put them through anything they couldn’t handle. You have to go through a couple storms here and there to appreciate the rainbow.

eyeconicimages.zenfolio.com @eyeconic.imagess

Tammy McQuirk | Chief Visionary Officer & Owner and Antonio Morales | Managing Director

CEI J Photography

Antonio and I have been in the janitorial/facilities business for a combined 30 years of experience.

Starting our own company and breaking away from Corporate America was extremely scary! We have faced several challenges along the way so this question is very close to home.

Our advice for anyone facing insurmountable odds, personally or professionally is to: Seek out the positive in every challenge, learn and grow from it.

Take the risk, there WILL be challenges and if you feel overwhelmed it is because you are strong enough to handle it.

Consider these challenges to be tests of your strength and don’t let yourself down.

Make sure your circle is filled with positive, supportive people.. personal cheerleaders. Persevere in Prayer.

Look at each challenge as an opportunity.

At Tamrak, we believe quality drives probability..so keep swimming!

tamraksolutions.com @TAMRAKSOLU @TAMRAKSOLU [email protected]

Sydney Asafu-Adjaye | Creator of Lit Therapy Candles

Do your best to focus on gratitude, love, and humility. There is always something to be grateful for. Life is a beautiful blessing in itself, (especially when you’re abundantly healthy!) so make a conscious effort to focus on the beauty that is effortlessly all around – nature, laughter, good comfort food, creative expression, shelter, clothes, friends, family, animals, taking that cloud nine nap(lol), listening to your favorite song, random acts of kindness, dancing … the list goes on! Remember that like attracts like, so be a magnet for good by being good to the best of your ability each day. You are so loved, heard, seen, and cared for always. Xoxo~ Stay Lit!

@lit_therapycandles @littherapycandles Etsy.com/shop/LitTherapyCandles

Hunter Wilson | Portrait Photographer

If you are in a season where you feel like you’re sprinting in the fog, seeking clarity, and you have no idea how you’re going to find your way… The best advice I can give is to know what outcome you want to happen. You have to have a vision for what true north looks like for you. If you feel lost or overwhelmed, ask yourself these three questions to get unstuck: 1. What do I want? Why do I want it? How am I going to get there?

HunterWilson.Photography

Dan Maitland | Commercial Film Producer At Meticulous Image inc.

Whatever insurmountable odds you face, it is okay if a victory of those odds benefits you positively, but it is exponentially more motivating if it helps others who deserve the ability to excel. Ask yourself, do your actions lead to elements that are inherently righteous and beneficial to not only yourself but also others? Compile these motivators as fuel to propel yourself and other forward.

Meticulousimage.com @themaitlandimage

Neko Savvy | Rapper | Singer | Songwriter

My best advice to people who are facing insurmountable odds in whatever it is they may do is to dream like crazy, live in the now, and keep the future organized. Stay consistent in your work & true to your belief system. Stay confident but humbled. Never stop learning even when you think you know it all! Put your happiness first and make sure to love yourself through the ups and downs. What are downs without ups? Stay persistent and consistent. Be YOU! Be understanding. and last but not least, stay patient.

@nekosavvymusic @nekosavvy Neko Savvy on all streaming platforms (Spotify, Youtube, Apple Music, etc) youtube.com/watch?v=KgxgJ5QZY4k soundcloud.com/nekosavvy/neko-savvy-808-prod-icon-south

John Lee | PMP – senior program director of job recruitment company and life long fitness athlete

There are people alive today who accumulated more wealth in 1 lifetime, with companies they started in basements, comparable to entire generations of iconic family dynasties.

There are doctors with law degrees, and lawyers with medical degrees.

There are single moms running corporations, and single dads operating restaurant chains.

There are world champions from dirt poor neighborhoods, and spelling bee champions raised in 3rd world countries.

I can go on and on, but needless to say, we, as people, are meant to overcome insurmountable odds. We don’t have to look far to find people of every background who became wildly successful even if it looked as if they lacked the tools, the time, the opportunity, or the luck to accomplish much.

Insurmountable odds are only insurmountable at the time, but every changing second could bring a change in circumstances, resources, mindset, and opportunity. As long as you continue to become the best version of who you can be, while staying open-minded to the changing world around you, the right opportunity will present itself.

Valerie Munday | Plus-Size Fashion and Lifestyle Maven

Photo Credit: @irinaand3dogs

When it feels like everything is against you, it can be so easy to cave in. It’s important to remember that under the heaviest pressure and most difficult circumstances, we are given the opportunity to grow. Always, always take that opportunity, even if it isn’t the one you thought it would be.

valorelai.wordpress.com @valorelai @valorelai

Dr. Scott Silverii | Servant Pastor & Author

Some of the best advice comes from hard-earned life experience. After surviving an abusive childhood, twenty-six years in law enforcement, and standing on the brink of suicide, my best advice for someone who feels like they are facing insurmountable odds are these three truths:

1. I want to encourage you to anchor yourself to people who are invested in your well-being.

2. Prayer makes everything possible.

3. My anchor promise for better days is Jeremiah 29:11 – “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

scottsilverii.com @scottsilverii @BrickBreakersChurchForMen

Nitae | Musician | Stinger | Songwriter & Performing Artist

@its_thatguyphat

I’ve always been told, “When you feel that nothing’s working for you, take a step back, be still, breathe, pray, and know things will always work out for the good of you.” There’s no task or obstacle put in your path that you cannot conquer. When odds are against you, you be still, analyze things, find another way to kick it’s but, but one thing you never do is give up. Life is only trial & error, so in the great words of Aaliyah, “Dust yourself off & try again!”

@Iamnitae @Nitaenitae music.apple.com/us/artist/nitae/1350029554

Jacob Rangel aka ScuddiCutz | Barber

My advice would be to never give up always believe in god and let him handle your tribulation, let that trouble make you stronger ask for help and watch god do his work.

dapperbarber.co

Trichelle Mcafee | Photographer at Specialtee Photos

The best advice I can give for someone who is facing insurmountable odds is to not give up. Your journey may seem hard but the journey you are on is shaping you to become the person you need to be.

@specialteephotos

Kishan Patel | Digital Content Creator for 360 Wraps

@MeltingMiniMedia and @KBPatel228

“If opportunity doesn’t knock, build a door” – Milton Berle.

This quote was in my senior yearbook when I graduated high-school in 2014, and it has been in my mind ever since. I moved to Dallas in August 2018 not knowing anyone but a few family members, and worked at a job I grew to hate after a year of being there. I picked up a camera in November 2018 and taught myself anything I needed to know to get to where I am at now. If you keep working hard and just be a good person, then the sky is the limit. You should never be scared to ask for help, I would not be where I am today if it wasn’t for the friendships that started by me simply asking “How do you do that?”. There is always someone out there that can help you improve. Assuming you know everything is the last thing you want to do because that shuts your mind down to new perspectives and ideas that actually challenge you to do better. There is always a brighter side!

@MeltingMiniMedia MeltingMiniMedia.com

Jessica RyAnn | Model

DK Productions

From experience I would have to say stay focus and retain a consistent level of confidence . It can definitely be hard with the world of social media and it may seem like everyone is doing what you want to do and they are reaching certain levels that you aren’t. I’ve been hard on myself about this plenty of times. One thing that I’ve learned is that you can’t compare your journey to someone else’s. That’s what makes us special, our individuality. Gods timing is everything! Remain focus, stay consistent, and know that at the end of every storm there is a rainbow.

kollectiveye.com

Melissa Wise | Holistic Massage Therapist & Teacher

When life happens, and it will, make sure that you have a strong faith in God, Creator, Universe whatever you believe in, be open to love and support from your friends and family and remember that NOTHING is permanent. Stay true to yourself, listen to your intuition and allow change. Whatever it is that you are facing is not life working against you, it is not God punishing you, it is the impermanence of existence happening and how you respond to it will have a lot to do with your survival and outcome. I personally was led to massage therapy, the study of meditation yoga and Ayurveda (all Eastern modalities), Reiki and Sound therapy. Meditation was the biggest game changer for me. A teacher once said, “praying is talking to God and meditation is listening to God.” I realized I had been doing the talking all of my life and when I sit in meditation on a daily basis, (8 years now) I have been guided by the messages from God. I believe mediation is the core to ones healing. It may be the one trauma or life event that ‘wakes us up’ or gives us PTSD but meditation is a process that peels the layers of trauma, pain and dysfunction that may have been stored in the body for a lifetime, to heal us on a soul level. Meditation does for the mind, what the gym does for the body. ~ Melissa Wise

wisebodmindsoul.com @wisebodymindsoul @wisebodymindsoul

Taylor Schmitt | Photographer

Facing insurmountable odds happens to everybody, you must accept them and take them as experience and lessons.These hard times prepare you for the future to progress for what you will become. Outlook and attitude are everything in the times you viewed as insurmountable, you must look at the positives of these moments and take lessons from them to better your future in life.

@txsvisuals

Latice Williams | owner and cake decorator of Sweet Tooth Custom Cakes

The best advice I would give anyone that’s facing insurmountable odds is to keep your eyes on the prize. If you get knocked down down, cry about it but get up and keep going. Rejection is just God’s way of saying not yet. For all the no’s you get, 1 yes will trump them all. #KeepGoing.

sweettoothcc.com @sweettoothcc

Becky Fernandez | Artist Manager | Creative Director

Adversity is a good thing. It is an opportunity to learn and grow. Facing hardships brings out an inner strength in you that you otherwise would of never known you had. We all go through life where everyday is not promised. We will have setbacks, failures and disappointments along the way. I know that God will never give me more than I can handle and I’ve learned to live life a day at a time. Talk to people who maybe have gone through something similar. Take a deep breath, be grateful and find a reason to celebrate the small things. And most importantly, trust God.

Soundartmedia.com @beckyfernandez @soundartmedia

John W Preston Jr. | Husband | Father | Artist & Realtor

Keep facing it. Show up every single day, and face whatever stands between you and your greatness. I do not believe in anything being insurmountable if you consistently give all you have within. Will times be hard? Yes. Will you walk alone at some point? Yes. Will their be naysayers? Of course. Think about it this way, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and wiser. Everything that you face will subside. They say the storm runs out of rain eventually, but you won’t know if you give up. Everything you desire is right on the other side of your consistent effort. The late Nipsey Hussle conveyed a powerful message through one of my favorite songs entitled “I don’t stress”. The message that is: Don’t stress out, poke your chest out(meaning have courage), and when it’s your turn bring the best out.

shotbyjwes.com @jwes_

Jamie Lynn Moreland | Newborn and Family Photographer

My advice would be to simply show up in whatever way you can. Every day is an opportunity to show up for yourself creatively and professionally, to do the best work you can, and to be an example for your family or community that no matter what success means to you, it’s also an ongoing series of choices that shape your journey. Even under perfect circumstances, success takes vision, persistence, and the faith to keep working toward your goals even when it seems like they might be out of reach. So even if your circumstances are less than perfect or the trajectory of your path has changed, there is always a benefit in showing up and continuing to put one foot in front of the other in the journey towards your goals.

poppyandbellephotography.com @poppyandbellephotos

Daniel Gunn | Artist & Architect

Photo Credit: Daniel M. Gunn

The best advice I could give someone that feels like they are facing insurmountable odds would be to first take a step back and analyze what the obstacle is in their life or situation that is impeding them from moving forward. I believe that it is common for everyone at some point in their life to encounter odds that they feel are impossible to overcome. Taking a step back allows one to see the bigger picture, break it down and bring the issue into greater focus. The next thing that I would suggest to someone is to have faith that the insurmountable odds that they are facing will shift in their favor. Never give up and be persistent no matter how much the odds seem to be stacked against you. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. My faith in God has helped me to overcome many obstacles throughout my life whether it was in my career, personal goals, or other areas. With the faith in size to that of a mustard seed anything is possible to accomplish.

danielmgunn.com @dgunnart

Marci Allen | CEO & Creative Director

@oralallen82

While there may be situations in life that may feel like they are insurmountable, there will always be creative ways to solve the problems you are facing.

Whenever I begin to feel overwhelmed or feel that there is no way out, I remove myself from the moment and look at the problem from a different perspective. Sometimes a simple change can make a huge difference.

Regardless of how hard or impossible something may seem, each of these hurdles or obstacles can teach us something; look for the lesson in the challenge. Remember to be kind to yourself, ask for help, change your perspective, analyze the issue, come up with a plan, and then execute said plan (rinse and repeat as needed). Your biggest hurdle today can be your greatest victory tomorrow!

hirunadesigns.com @hirunasoaps

Steven Nguyen | Pharmacist

I feel like it’s best to break up the task into small goals that can be accomplished. Aim to complete those small goals a step at a time and before you know it, you’ve conquered something that was insurmountable!

@dapper.qd

Jacqui Daniels | clinical herbalist & botanical glass engraver

I don’t know that this is “the best” advice, but these are things I turn to when I feel like I am facing insurmountable odds. When facing insurmountable odds we tend to feel alone in our struggle, so I find it helpful to look to ancestors for guidance. My grandmother in particular is one I turn to most often. She was the picture of strength, compassion, and guiding light, and always made me feel like there was nothing I couldn’t do. I have an old picture of hers, with a common saying on it, right by my bed as a reminder:

Give me the strength to change the things I can, Accept the things I can’t, and wisdom to know the difference

I also have a practice of writing down all of the things that no longer serve me that I wish to change or get rid of in my life and then on another sheet I write down all of the things I would like to manifest. I then burn the sheet of things that no longer serve me and then plant the sheet of things I wish to manifest. It is now a seed that will grow as long as you continue to nourish and feed the things that you wish to grow in your life. It is a nice physical thing you can do to literally get rid of, grow, or transform the things in your life you wish to.

nettleguruherbs.com @nettle_guru

Zikeyah Austin | Fashion Model & Actresses

I feel like you should never give up. We all have experience down falls within our life. Some people can’t overcome. They hold on to the pain. But for most, to break though and keep fighting , against all odds shows tremendous courage. I been there. I believe having faith, ambition and heart you can achieve your dreams.

@rayalvarde @experienceellie

Michelle Knight | Health and Wellness Coach, Speaker and Consultant

For the question of the month. Here’s my response: 1. Use your strengths. 2.Remember, you have survived your worst days. You can get through this challenge too. 3. Rally support – get caring people around you who can guide, assist and support you. 4. Take it one day at a time.

realsolutionscoaching.com

Joseph Williams and Ebony Williams | Conscious Love Strategists

Joseph Williams

Acknowledge the pain, your doubts, your present lack of faith. Feel it. Then ask yourself, what is this here to teach me? Know that EVERYTHING unravels in your favor. It is not happening to you, but for you. Shift your point of reference and your point of view will soon follow.

jandecoaching.com @jandecoaching

Obioma Faison | Head Chef B.Y.O. Chef LLC

This takes me several years back when I thought I’d lost everything. I felt powerless as life made decisions for me. Through all the uncertainty only one thing made sense, food. In the midst of my odds, cooking became my place of solace, healer of my hopelessness, and my source of strength. With a heart filled of fierce passion I realized I was destined to share my culinary passion with the world. Embarking on my journey I transformed my passion into my craft; modernizing and rebirthing any traditional dish I could get my hands on. And now, I am happy to say my journey has taken me from the darkest pit to beyond the stars. From weddings, to city sponsored events, to culinary competitions I never imagined any of this was possible. No matter what you encounter in life, you must realize it’s only for a moment, someday you’ll look back to see the reward of your perseverance.

@byochef

byochef.catering

Rafael Garcia | 3D Artist and Videographer and Latin Recording Artist

The key to success is failure—You’re not going to succeed at every single thing that you do and that is absolutely okay. The important part in life is that when the time came, you tried. Go out there and try.

rafael.works spoti.fi/2SGGF9U @yorafarafa

Chris D. Bentley | Broker | Owner of Bentley Fine Properties

Take a step back and ask for help. Believe me, if you’re going through something, someone else already has and there is a really good chance that they’re willing to help you.

ChrisDBentley.com BentleyFineProperties.com Facebook: Chris D. Bentley youtube.com/c/ChrisDBentley-LuxuryHomeSales @chrisdbentley

Eliseo Mendoza | Wolfshot | photographer

My best advise would be to never give up on your style and vision and keep being weird. Now in days every photographer edits the same. It’s really amazing to see some of the new photographers put out some weird awesome content.

@wolfshot15 eazyymendoza8.wixsite.com @wolfzy15

Crystal Rippers | BAND

Rip it and Grip it!!!

open.spotify.com/artist/4cjEMPImJ7hT0L1vsIt8Zz?si=l1eoxFUuQOWZMAZYfp8KKQ youtube.com/watch?v=BP2yhRYrLec crystalrippers.com

Lauren Vaughn & Browning Vaughn | Professional Organizers

We would be lying if we told you we never get overwhelmed on organization projects. There are days we feel it won’t get done. What gets us through our toughest days, both at work and in our personal lives, is keeping perspective on the situation in front of us. All of us are guilty of blowing things out of proportion and feeling overwhelmed. Take a step back. Take a deep breath. What steps can you take to change the situation that is overwhelming you? Make an action plan. We are big believers in to-do lists. Worrying about the situation will not make it go away. We also cannot stress enough the importance of a positive attitude. Even in our lowest moments, we often force ourselves to smile and laugh at ourselves. It gives us an extra boost of energy that gets us through the tough days. Give yourself a break every once in awhile! You seriously deserve it!

liferefinedco.com @liferefinedco @liferefinedco

The post Perspective & Advice for Those Facing Insurmountable Odds appeared first on Voyage Dallas Magazine | Dallas City Guide.

source http://voyagedallas.com/2020/03/01/perspective-advice-facing-insurmountable-odds/

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rjhamster · 5 years

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A Loaf of Bread Just Out of the Oven

We must invite Christ to pull us away from our judgments, tear open our intentions, and scour our hearts.

—

Margaret Feinberg

A Loaf of Bread Just Out of the Oven

by Margaret Feinberg, from

Taste and See God’s Community I peer through the oven’s glass window, coated with splatters from past meals, to assess the bread baking inside. More than anything, I don’t want the bread to rise. I wish I knew more about the finicky nature of this particular range, but this isn’t my stove. This isn’t even my kitchen. I’ve traveled from Utah to Connecticut to try my hand at unleavened bread. When I launched my baking expedition to explore bread in the Bible, I looked for local bakers to deepen my understanding of bread and its rich imagery throughout Scripture. One chef led to another, and soon I scoured a variety of resources on how this particular food rose to prominence throughout history. Somewhere along the way, I stumbled on a resource by Andrew McGowan, the dean of Berkeley Divinity School at Yale University and knew he would be the very best guide. He’s both an Episcopal priest and an expert on ancient bread making. Jackpot! With Ido-inspired chutzpah, I invited myself to visit the prestigious Ivy League campus and spend an afternoon baking in his kitchen. He graciously accepted my request, and before I knew it, I found myself at Yale. At first glance, Andrew looks like a fine-art auctioneer at Christie’s. Untamed salt-and-pepper hair grazes his shoulders. Mod glasses frame his wise owl-like eyes. Yet it’s the puff of flour on his tie that’s impossible to ignore. I have a suspicion that he isn’t a typical seminary professor, and my hunch is confirmed when he leads me into the kitchen of his campus home. Instead of cabinets, cherry-red shelves line the pale walls. They are stocked with my all-time favorite brand of spices. A whimsical white tea kettle with black polka dots rests atop the stove. Unlike my unkempt kitchen, Andrew’s appears tidy with every item assigned to its proper place. The centerpiece of the kitchen is an oversized wooden countertop designed for baking with a lower-set edge and a plastic barrier to prevent runaway flour. I follow Andrew to his personal treasure vault: a pantry stuffed with eclectic flours from around the world. “I collect flour like some collect power tools,” he says with a gusty laugh. Andrew scans the labyrinth of ground grains to select the ingredients for today’s culinary adventure. He gathers several flours and cradles them in his arms like infants. Then we return to the kitchen and I pull up a stool to his baking table. “We’re going to make authentic matzo like the Israelites ate,” Andrew announces. “From the start to out-of-the-oven, we have only eighteen minutes.” How to Avoid the Leaven of the Pharisees (Hint: You Can’t) I know unleavened bread is a Jewish staple that commemorates the night when God instructs the Israelites to flee Egypt at lightning speed. It’s said that they left in such a hurry that they could not wait for bread dough to rise. But why only eighteen minutes? Andrew explains that a basic mixture of water and flour rises, or leavens, on its own with enough time. water + our + time=leavened bread Centuries ago, a pair of rabbis debated how long a Jewish baker could work with dough before it bubbles and leavens. In the famous exchange, one rabbi suggested eighteen minutes and the other, twenty-four minutes. Because they loved the law of God, the rabbis believed the best way to help people observe the law was to not exceed the regulation’s basic requirement. If you don’t want to cross a line, the reasoning goes, then stay away from it. As a result, if rabbis had a dispute between two guidelines, the stricter was always favored. To uphold their love for the law and make certain no lines were crossed, the rabbis agreed on the shorter time for unleavened bread. This explains what I experienced while in Israel. Leading up to Passover, the removal of leaven creates a physical spring-cleaning and represents a deeper spiritual one. Jewish households, and restaurateurs like Ido, don’t focus on the yeast; they focus on the flour, which contains the capacity to become leaven. In search of hidden hametz, the Hebrew word for leaven, people pull stoves from the walls, tear apart pantries, and scour the entire house to remove every last granule of flour. While more liberal Jews give their leavened food to Gentiles to store, the most conservative burn it. One day while driving along the Galilee, I detected smoke rising from a nearby beach. I whipped the car around, daydreaming that maybe I’d see Jesus and the disciples enjoying breakfast. Instead, I discovered orthodox Jewish children standing around a fire pit burning their families’ hametz. In light of my experiences in Israel and Andrew’s insights, I realized I’d either missed or misunderstood biblical references to leaven my entire life. Wherever a passage refers to leaven or yeast, I interpreted the mention with modern ears. I’d imagine the baker reaching for an outside ingredient like a packet of Fleishmann’s rapid-rise to make dough bubble. Alas, commercial yeast wasn’t even invented until 1868. Instead, the ancient Israelites used the same ingredients people work with today to make sourdough bread: water, flour, and time (and sometimes a starter ball of dough from a previous baking that is comprised of — you guessed it — water, flour, and time). This illuminates Jesus’s warning to beware the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees. This isn’t a cautionary advisement against an out- side contaminant. Rather, Jesus says, the same leaven that’s in them is already in you. Our real enemy isn’t what we see in others but what rises within us. The judgmental nature, the critical eye, the insidious pride we notice in others, wait to rise up in us too. Maybe you’ve felt the leaven bubbling in your heart. One particular person in my life causes me to sour. I am annoyed by her religiosity, by her black-and-white rigidity, by her constant assessments that no one can live up to. When she asked that a girl who uses a wheelchair be removed from her daughter’s play- group because she slowed her child down, I wanted to throw a desk through the window. And by desk, I mean her. Just like that, I realize that what’s rising in her heart is identical to what’s in mine. If I allow my annoyance to rise, my leaven will push me away from her and her friends. The swelling in me can disrupt our entire community. No matter how justified we feel, there’s no space for judgment in our hearts. It rises up and makes us cynical and angry toward others until we’re tiptoeing around the very people we’re meant to engage and embrace. Of course, Jesus tells us to beware of the hametz. The only antidote to the leaven of sin is Christ’s work in us. We must invite Christ to pull us away from our judgments, tear open our intentions, and scour our hearts. When we do this, we are able to live in a closer relationship with God and others. Excerpted with permission from Taste and See by Margaret Feinberg, copyright Margaret Feinberg.

* * *

Your Turn

What rises in your heart? What leaven do you see in your life that needs to be swept out with the help of the Holy Spirit? Come share with us on our blog. We want to hear from you! ~ Devotionals Daily

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tabernacleheart · 5 years

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It was my first stay with [two of my married friends]. As I entered the modest entryway of their home I was greeted in the peace of Jesus Christ. Those exact words were not spoken, but their hospitality was authentic and heartfelt. I immediately felt at home in their presence. Dinner was thoughtfully prepared. [They] had taken great care to prepare a meal that met my dietary requirements as a vegan. The table was set, and [the couple] reached for my hands [and] offered a prayer of blessing for the food and my wellbeing after a long journey. As we began to pass the food and share together, the Spirit’s presence overwhelmed me. There was deep and meaningful discussion about our lives, families, and love for the gospel as expressed through our movement. I was immersed in a profound sense of well-being. [My friend's wife], fully attentive to me as a guest, anticipated my every need. Her hospitality was genuine, humbling, and deeply moving. It was simple table fellowship, yet so much more. It was genuine and loving Christian community. [My friends], in their ministry of hospitality, presence, and love embodied Christ’s invitation and peace. For me, it was a fresh expression of the gospel experienced in a community of three persons gathered around a table for a meal. It breathed new life into my weary body and soul in ways that have caused me to reflect on the essence of Christian community many times since. Is this the essence of our identity and calling as Community of Christ? What was it about this simple expression of loving community that was so life-giving and renewing? ...This ancient/new expression is exciting and hopeful because we are poised to be such communities. I see fresh expressions of the gospel in community emerging on walks in the neighborhood, in coffeehouses, around tables in our homes, backyard cookouts, and all the places people gather. Anytime two or more are gathered in a relationship of receptivity and love, Christ draws near. Can we break free from the form and structure of traditional church to discover anew what the Spirit is seeking to reveal in our identity as invitational communities of Christ’s love and peace? Have you sensed the deep cultural longings for meaning and connection? People are looking for ways to connect virtually and in person, and they are finding them outside the local congregation. The need has never been greater for fresh expressions of the gospel in community—simple expressions that extend radical hospitality, belonging, and opportunity for meaningful conversation inside and outside our traditional church experience. The Apostle Paul expressed this need powerfully in 1 Corinthians 9:19–23 of The Message: 'Even though I am free of the demands and expectations of everyone, I have voluntarily become a servant to any and all in order to reach a wide range of people: religious, nonreligious, meticulous moralists, loose-living immoralists, the defeated, the demoralized—whoever. I didn’t take on their way of life. I kept my bearings in Christ—but I entered their world and tried to experience things from their point of view. I’ve become just about every sort of servant there is in my attempts to lead those I meet into a God-saved life. I did all this because of the Message. I didn’t just want to talk about it; I wanted to be in on it!' What is the Apostle Paul really saying? Step outside the walls of your religious experience! Risk new conversations. Get to know people. Listen deeply to their stories and be receptive to the Spirit’s work among you. This is the heart-pounding, unsettling, and energizing work of conveying and living the gospel in new language and form. This is more than talk; this is about being in on it! What does this mean in practical terms? For many it means moving away from traditional expressions of church as we know it. We sometimes move through structured and programmed elements of worship and education that often create little space for reflection or authentic sharing in community. The result is a church experience where the same people show up at the same time each week but know very little about each other. Rediscovering authentic and loving community in Christ is like learning to walk again. It begins with a willingness to take initial steps beyond the comfort of our separation from one another. It then invites us into the unsettling, yet life-giving, possibility of authentic and transforming relationships in community. This is the paradox! Our deepest yearnings often are elusive because of our own fear and insecurity. Will we be accepted for who we really are? Is it safe to share the deepest questions, needs, and hopes of our heart? Will we be able to receive and bear the suffering of others? So where do we begin? For many, the “Mission Prayer” has led to a new posture of openness and receptivity. The prayer begins with two confessions: We are not fully awake, and we are not in control. These two confessions, when embraced, change everything! “God where will your Spirit lead today?” is an invitation to be disrupted—disrupted into new ways of seeing and being with others we might never have noticed before. “Help us be fully awake…” is a plea for attentiveness, to slow down, to be fully awake to God’s presence in our relationships, gatherings, and neighborhoods. The prayer continues with an invitation to risk something new—new questions, conversations, and relationships that make room for the Spirit’s transformative work ...It is risky because we don’t know what we will encounter or how it will change us. We risk by taking one simple step at a time in response to the Spirit’s movement in us and around us. The prayer concludes with a plea for courage—courage to become a blessing of God’s love and peace for one another and our neighbors. This is about how our lives as disciples and congregations become sanctuaries of Christ’s peace in a hurting and separated world. What does it look like to live the “Mission Prayer” as Christian community? I rediscovered the power of loving community around a table with radical hospitality and meaningful conversation. A simple practice of extending hospitality through food and fellowship fed body and soul. How might simple practices... increasingly shape what we do when we gather—not in addition to, but in place of what we do? Imagine an experience on Sunday morning where the focus is less on highly structured worship and more on simply being together in Christ. A simple scripture passage and question lead to meaningful sharing around tables about how the Spirit is moving in our lives and inviting us to consider risking something new. Imagine inviting a friend to an experience of simple Christian community—an experience of sharing a meal and meaningful conversation about the challenges and joys in our lives. Can we birth, nurture, and multiply such communities in our day and time? Can we rediscover the power of such fresh expressions of loving community to transform us and our world? ...A fresh wind is blowing through the church, inviting us to rediscover the power of simpler, more relational, and invitational expressions of Christian community. May we be fully awake and ready to respond.

Ron Harmon

#Ron Harmon #Christian community #share the faith #love thy neighbor #hospitality #kindness #community of christ #humility #1 corinthians 9:19 #this is so important

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