They did the same at my church on Holy Thursday. Several parishioners had their feet washed by Father Chris in the annual ceremony.
I don't know what vile and demented people would post about this but I have come to the conclusion that they are beyond redemption.
Humility and grace.
I pray to get more of it everyday. I fall short. Terribly short. But I have to try none the less.
28 comments:
Amen. Well said.
Does the Pope screen the feet ahead of time to find out if any of them belong to someone who is vile, sad, demented or nasty?
I'm good with "well said" up to this point: I don't know what vile and demented people would post about this but I have come to the conclusion that they are beyond redemption.
Foot washing is foot washing. The picture is beautiful regardless of what might be said; it sends its own message.
Maundy
I like the knobby feet and open door in this picture with Judas minus a halo and wearing a glower.
I am not into feet. You never know what you are getting when a foot appears.
Hi Mamam!
tits.
I am not into feet. You never know what you are getting when a foot appears.
Hi Titus! It's easier to know what one is getting when an ass appears, but this about the feet made me laugh.
Dick Morris approves of this thread.
I love the symbolism of washing someone's feet. It's so loving. That is a really precious photo.
Michael Haz, you were missed!
@Darcy - Thanks! And ditto!
Dick Morris approves of this thread.
LOL
Poor Morris, he's always tummling (from the yiddish tummler: one who makes a racket, but a racket with a purpose, to drum up business or put over a scheme). The poor guy's always sweating and I want to say to him "Relax, Dick, you've made it, made it big" but I know that internally he'll be running scared, terrified that his latest con will fall flat, till the last breath he takes.
My hubby asked me what Easter represented...in religious terms.
I had to look it up.
I thought it honored the bunny. Much to my surprise it meant some sort of resurrection.
I am clueless about organized religion. The organized part makes me cringe. No organizations or clubs or associtions for me. Except when Mamam and I catfish and exchange dick pics.
And he railed at me for not knowing the meaning of Eather, considering that I attended catholic mass and CDC all through my formative fag young years.
I believe it was because I was more concerned with cock.
tits.
@Titus: If not cultural awareness, exactly what skill did get you into Harvard? Fellatio?
Titus went to Harvard??
Didn't you just post about it?
Titus, you are obviously over qualified to write for the New York Times. You missed your calling.
The NYT had to post a retraction when it misstated what Easter was about (they did not go the bunny explanation, but misunderstood the resurrection and the later ascension into heaven).
Beautiful photo. And the Maundy Thursday service is a hauntingly beautiful, deeply moving one.
It's interesting to me, Titus, that your hubby comes across as the curious one in this latest story, while you present as the incurious, dissociated dolt fixated on sexual gratification.
This latest bunny tale doesn't run parallel to the one you've been telling over at TOP about sitting with your parents through Catholic mass as a child. (Nor does it recognize your personal experience with resurrection, realized through your father's miraculous return from the very brink of death after tears of sympathy were milked from those who'd received that story as real.)
Children don't miss much when it comes to graphics and other sensory input; and Catholic services are loaded with opportunities for right brain involvement through the 5 senses to support themes centered around the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is difficult for me to believe a child could attend such services (and CDC) end up as clueless as Titus purports to be.
Up until puberty, when more hormones are released, most healthy, non-abused children are not primarily focused on cock, regardless of their sexual orientation.
While I accept this to be a "things are not as they seem kind of place" with everyone allowed their own voice, it's hard for me to understand why someone would get frothed up about the vile, sad, demented and nasty in someone else's yard, when this kind of loaf lies in their own.
From my point of view, the true stories and riffing that follow are the best part TY. That's where I rest my Amen.
Gratitude. I'm learning, or maybe re-learning a lot about gratitude.
"No really, you don't need to do that for me."
"Listen, I don't mind at all. What I do is like a drop of water in the ocean of all that has been done for me."
Humility and grace. A Yankee fan. Truly opposing concepts.
Jason Taylor is on CNN in a show discussing current events, ironic right? He is dumb as a box of rocks but like it matters. I want to chizz on his shaved head.
But God is he fucking beautiful. Skin, shaved head, body, teeth. I would be honored to go into the lou after he pinches a loaf in order to smell his shit. I would be thrilled at him farting in my face. I would love to pick out his turds from the toilet and freeze them for internity.
That is how absolutely beautiful that man is.
I also sense he has sucked dick in his life.
Humility and grace. A Yankee fan. Truly opposing concepts.
Chirbit: We're All Yankees Now
Just for you, chickelit, because this is even better than the horse sound that cracks me up...An Origami of Amens
Urban Dictionary defines a Yankee fan as:
Typically found still living in his mom's home in Jersey even at middle age, an utterly unaccomplished individual that derives his self-worth exclusively from sports teams in the New York/New Jersey area, and in particular the achievements of the New York Yankees.
The Yankees have been hated for almost a 100 years. Tradition.
Hey Trooper a "what if" question. What if the Dodgers had stayed in Brooklyn, would you be a Dodger fan or a Yankee fan? And "What if" we could time travel you back to 50s, Giants, Dodgers or Yankees?
I would have been a Yankee fan I think. You see my Dad and all my uncles were Mets fans and I just had to be contary.
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