tearing bread apart and handing it to someone else is so… spiritual and intimate
lets give this bread
jesus of nazareth made this post
8th Century CE Rock Cut Graves and St. Patrick’s Chapel, Heysham, Lancashire, 6.8.18.
This rocky headland possesses distinctive rock cut graves and the ruins of an 8th century chapel that was extended in the 10th century. A hogback stone in the nearby church suggests this was a site visited by Vikings or at least influenced by them.
Demons have faith, but they tremble.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, from “The Possessed,” written c. January 1872 (via violentwavesofemotion)
I thank God for brining me a very cute kitten on a cold night. It’s been 12 years with him.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
Hot take: It’s okay to emphasize that Catholicism isn’t only the “smells and bells,” but if I were to have abandoned all the external signs of my faith because my relationship with Christ was failing, I would no longer be Catholic.
Call it fake or superficial if you’d like, but when I’m struggling, I’ve learned to cling for dear life to those things I can still see, touch, and smell. Medals, veils, crucifixes, candles, incense, etc., are not God. But they are tangible reminders of what I have now, what I am striving for, and what I would lose if I walked away.
I don’t wear a crucifix because I think I’m done striving for holiness, or because I think I have a perfect relationship with God. I wear a crucifix because sometimes it’s all I have.
Podgórski Cemetery in Kraków, Poland on the evening of All Saints Day.
Read more about the origins of the custom in Poland here: Dziady / Zaduszki / Pominki.
Photos © Krzysztof Kalinowski / LoveKraków.pl
bennu rising 