“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” While this command does imply that we should not think about that which is opposite to the characteristics listed here, Paul gave this command in this way for a reason.
St. Mungo was born Kentigern, son of Princess Teneu of Lothian. He was the result of his mother being attacked by Owain mab Urien, for which her father, King Lot (also called Lleuddun) had Teneu thrown from a cliff. She miraculously survived and came to an area inhabited by a man called Saint Serf, and was cared for by him.
For those who do not know, the Goths and the Huns were two tribes living on the outskirts of the Roman Empire. The clash of these three cultures contributed greatly to the fall of Rome, and affected modern society in a few important ways. By the 4th century, the Roman Empire had grown so large that it had divided itself into two regions: the West and the East. Each had their own Emperor, and had developed their own subcultures though on paper they were still one empire.
Through trials, rigors and the initial skepticism of the brethren, Alfred persevered, joining the religious order known as the Congregation of the Holy Cross. As a novice, he learned to read (a skill he had not learned as a child) and memorized many portions of Scripture and of the writings of the saints. He received Holy Orders on August 22, 1872, taking the name Brother Andre. He was then assigned to serve as a porter at the College of Notre Dame, which he served admirably, despite ill-treatment by his superior. Once again, he persevered without the slightest complaint as he always had before.
Once upon a time, I was sitting in the car, reading and waiting for the spouse-person who was yakking with some other women after Mass. Suddenly, I noticed a little boy standing next to me at the window. He said, “You look like Father Brown.”
Jesus looked at me and said, “My children are out on the streets!” The warm air from His breath puffed against the silent chill and His words hung there for a minute like snowflakes suspended in the air.
Once upon a time in medieval Germany, a Knight named Kristof saw a glowing figure with a long white beard and wearing the garments of a Bishop. Somehow, Kristof knew in his heart that it was Saint Nicholas.
One of the most difficult things about being a Christian film critic (and a Christian film fan for that matter) is determining how badly a movie has to stray away from a biblical view of philosophy or ethics before it cannot be commendable to the Christian.
Many denominations claim that praying to the saints are sacrilegious as they are dead and only God can answer prayers. Yet we continue to ask others to pray for us. The concept is the same with the saints who, proven through miracles obtained by God, are very much alive and living with Him in Heaven.
I read over my own notes and looked at the evidence taken from Giuseppe’s house. I had a broken tablet of volcanic glass, a cylinder of smoke, a journal and a wicked sharp knife of unknown origin. Honestly, nothing here is of known origin, I thought.
Join us as we explore Gratitude, along with corresponding virtues Thanksgiving and Humility. In this issue you will find poetry, multiple examples of why thanksgiving is important, some thoughts on thoughts, a new story, a continuation of The Knights of Adonai, and more! Also, check out our photo contest entries…
I absentmindedly thumbed through the journal, noticing what looked to be a couple pages of simply random words. Not all of them were in English, many in a couple different languages. I recognized German, Latin, and Greek, but the scribbles did not make any sense to me. The strange wedge-shaped symbols clustered together down a page looked little more than geometric rubbish. However, even though I could not make it out as a written language, it must have been code or shorthand, for it had a clear pattern—maybe even the flow that many languages have.
Newsies, both in print and on the telescreens, seem unable to refer to anyone who has died as anything other than an icon. As a metaphor, this never worked well, anyway, as an icon is a two-dimensional painting or drawing—the Orthodox term is “written”—of a religious figure for inspiration. Obviously a human being, alive or dead, cannot be an icon in any meaningful sense…