#catholic lore

[animentality]

[oobertscoobert]

Fr Jud definitely broke the seal of confession in his testimony but that’s just me 🤷

[muzaktomyears]

The Beatles were in the studio and Al Aronowitz, the American writer from New York, was in town and in favour with everyone. Al, in London to write an article on The Beatles for the Saturday Evening Post, was a true fan and infinitely literate. He quoted me in his article and the quote stuck for ever, appearing in sermons, black-lists and God knows what else: ‘I am anti-Christ but they shock me, they are so anti-Christ...’ I was often called in on this quote, not by Brian or The Beatles but by my own conscience. If I did say it, I didn’t mean it; because not one of us - Brian, Beatles or I - was really anti-Christ. We were, however, uncommitted and this is what Al must have picked up on. His piece was nevertheless warm and generous, long and detailed, and established him as one of our gang. (He who is not for us is a Guinness...) The Saturday Evening Post was a wonderful magazine; it seemed impossible that it would not outlast The Beatles, but it didn’t. We’d conceptualized since our births what Christ represented; what he represented to us was a misrepresentation by the so-called religious leaders. The Christ they described to us was something we didn’t like, yet actually we turned out to be more into Christ than most of them put together. But what we were against, and always will be, was the bullshit. It’s as John Lennon said: ‘I’m sick and tired of hearing things about… all I want is the truth.’ Which reminds me of John Paul I and Cardinal Marcinkus. We were turning against the false representation. We weren’t turning against Christ (just against the Calvis and Gellis). There was such a shock wave after that when it was picked up on the wires. In fact it’s funny that it took so long for the Maureen Cleave article (‘We’re more popular than Christ’) to catch on because that was a forewarning of what was to come. In the wake of the bonfires and the burning of Beatle albums, it was hard to imagine that John Lennon with all his toughness and in all his power and glory and honesty could be reduced to a terrified wreck, a white sheet, having to apologize. Up in front of those people John was terrified. ‘It was taken out of context,’ he said, and we were there trying to support him. We were all dried up ourselves but were there for moral support.

Fifty Years Adrift, Derek Taylor (1984) - with italicised commentary written by George Harrison

[maxdibert]

I once sat in an Catholic Studies lecture where a professor argued in all seriousness that Snape, by the end, was the most moral person in the entire series. He based his case on this passage:

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%205:43-48&version=NIV

Snape’s the only character who comes close to ‘love thy enemy’, because he’s sacrificed his life and reputation in order to aid those who despise him or have failed him. Most of the other characters are fighting because the people they love are at risk. He shows genuine remorse, and genuinely seeks to do better. I don’t know that I wholly agreed with the professor, but it was a compelling case. If you’re a consequentialist, Snape did far far more good than evil. Saving lives > being a bitch to toads and their owners.

Having studied my entire basic education in a Catholic school, I can say that from a Christian-Catholic moral perspective—one based on repentance but especially on penance as key pillars for earning a place in Heaven and reaching God—Severus fits perfectly as the ultimate example of the stray sheep who returns to the flock. He is the prodigal son; he’s Saul of Tarsus, who persecuted and judged Christians but later became one of their most devoted followers.

From a purely Catholic viewpoint, Severus is the perfect acolyte because he embodies the teachings of Jesus, who always advocated for those who strayed from the path. In Catholic thought, there’s great reverence for those who make mistakes, choose the wrong path, but later find redemption. And it’s not just about changing one’s beliefs—it’s about taking a painful, thorn-filled path where suffering itself demonstrates one’s worthiness for the Kingdom of Heaven.

Severus doesn’t just repent; he imposes upon himself a life solely dedicated to atoning for his sins. He renounces any personal happiness or fulfillment in order to be considered worthy of returning to the “flock.” It’s a deeply Catholic figure, now that I think about it—something I hadn’t realized before, but it makes perfect sense. Maybe that’s why I find everything he does so justifiable? Probably because, even though I’m not a believer and never have been, I grew up in an environment where figures like Severus were held up as examples of unwavering willpower and strength of character.

Let’s not forget that Catholicism also praises humility and condemns arrogance. The humility of doing good deeds without seeking recognition is considered virtuous, while the arrogance of wanting to be seen as a hero is sinful. Jesus sacrifices himself on the cross under extreme torture—that’s the Catholic ideal of the martyr. Your sins are forgiven not only if you repent but also if you become penitent. Severus is the ultimate penitent figure, and I probably have a very biased view of this because of the environment in which I was raised.

I will always value the sheep that returns to the flock more than the one that never left, because the former is the one that needs help the most. That’s how I was taught—that Christ didn’t care for the rich or for those with intact morals; he sought out the poor, the accused, the sinners, because they were the ones who needed a guide.

The priests really brainwashed me, my God—but it definitely makes sense. You can take the girl out of the Catholic school, but you can’t take the Catholic school out of the girl.

[fedorahead]

[godsmostautisticbird]

Some Catholic Lore for your Enjoyment

Or: Why It’s Hilarious He Kicked It on Easter Monday

Each Easter Sunday after mass, the pope will step out onto this little balcony and perform this once in a year blessing called urbi et orbi. It roughly translates to city (meaning Rome) and world. This is A Big Deal for catholics. When I was a kid growing up in a deeply catholic area, we used to watch it live on TV. It was A Thing.

Anyway, for the head of an institution so utterly bathed in blood and cruelty as the catholic church, Francis was a pretty cool dude. Very liberal for a pope, significantly less fire and brimstone and bigotry than his predecessor. And he’s been sick for a couple months now, but seemingly took a turn for the better in the last weeks.

Which leads me to believe that a couple weeks ago, when he was faced with finally meeting his Boss in person, Francis took one look at the state of the world and went:

"I can't die yet! If I kick it this close to Easter, there might not be a new pope to urb the orb! And that orb really needs its urbing this year!!"

Upon which he proceeded to somehow hold on for another couple of weeks just long enough to cast a holy buff on the entire world and then promptly went eternally afk.

Legend.

Alternatively, he met JD Vance and immediately lost the will to live, which is equally funny.

[sobbing-space-trash]

That last post reminded me of something. Catholic Tumblr, were you guys also told that if the communion wafer sticks to the roof of your mouth, it means you're a sinner/have impure thoughts, when you were a kid?

[fr33ksncr33ps]

did y’all’s fascination with catholic aesthetics and lore start as a coping mechanism for religious tr/uma or did y’all just really like the Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge album