#sacramental

[metamorphicmuse]

Sacrament for St. Valentine's Day

[apenitentialprayer]

Jesus did not just appear to be a human being, like He was a hologram; He was actually born of a woman, had flesh, and died. We believe that he had a human nature and a human will, and that these things were not just discarded at His death and Resurrection, but have been permanently grafted to God Himself in heaven. The second Person of the Trinity did not just become human for a few years and go back to heaven, but became a human being and is still a human being.

Think about that for a second; humanity (a physical, temporary, dependent entity) was permanently transformed to embody and reveal the Presence of God. Human flesh wasn't just a symbol of God, it didn't just point beyond itself to God, it was the actual bearer of God within itself.

Fr. Casey Cole, O.F.M. (Why I'm Catholic — And Always Will Be)

[bluemonkwrites]

[glassmuzzle]

Thinking about forcemasc a lot. The daintiest femme getting locked in a basement and chained to a support beam. They shave her head and bind her tits. They wipe off her makeup and cut her out of her girl clothes and force him to put on his new clothes at knifepoint. Now he's starting to look like a real man.

[signum-crucis]

The ancient statue of Christ Crucified being taken out of the Armenian Catholic Cathedral of Lviv, the historic capital of Galicia, now in western Ukraine, to be stored in a bunker for protection. The last time it was taken out was during WW2.

(Photo by Tim Le Berre, 5 March 2022)

[teatro-magico-solo-para-locos]

En el silencio el alma queda solo con Dios...

Católico

@teatro-magico-solo-para-locos

[random-xpressions]

I prefer literature that's bold, provocative and reckless. If reading words is all I'm interested in then I could even as well scroll through the Oxford dictionary. Words are meant to move mountains, split oceans, make skies fall upon you. I shouldn't have my eyes sift through pages without experiencing transformation, without becoming the very subject of alchemy. If it be possible, then I wish to be cut into two like a lumberjack would split a log of wood. Or if it be possible, then I want my skin to be peeled off like a butcher would do with the sheep. Or if it be possible, then words must crucify me, and leave me there hanging in mid air bleeding to death. I don't want words with any lesser effect...

Random Xpressions

[soracities]

“He had never had any feelings about the things of domestic life. In them he saw Lydia’s choices, and his admiration was not for the objects but for her. If all the furniture in the house were carried off by thieves,his only sorrow would be for Lydia. She had bought the mahogany table early in their marriage. She had money, and when each grandparent and parent died, she accumulated more. The table had traveled in moving vans back and forth across the nation. It had remained unmarked by children, and by officers and their wives from Hawaii to Virginia; it had stood amid family quarrels and silence and laughter, amid boisterous drinking and storytelling and flirtations, and here it was, in this house in the country north of Boston, without a scar. He had lived with it for decades, and now, lying helpless and in pain, he began to feel affection for the table. In the morning he opened his eyes to it; at night in the dark he looked at its shape in the pale light of the window as he waited for one drug to release him from pain and another to give him sleep.”

— Andre Dubus, “The Colonel’s Wife”, Dancing After Hours