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Ministry Forum / Re: Non-priesthood track pastoral training
« Last post by Saxon on Yesterday at 01:50:02 PM »
The Jordanville (also ROCOR Chicago diocese) leads to a diploma.

So, yeah.

But what does this entitle you to do within the church? My former parish elevated a 22-year old, with absolutely no religious or theological training whatsoever (and who is 3/4 of the way through a Political Science degree), to deacon. If I have this, in addition to my Masters in Political Science...?
I think "entitles" is a strong word.  Nothing entitles us to do anything within the Church.  As for degrees...1 Corinthians 13.  :)

I think you've taken "entitle" out of context. I'm not demanding anything. I'm asking what I might be permitted to do in the church with these programs if I complete one.
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Prayer Forum / Re: For Mary who is afraid of cancer metastasis and...
« Last post by Cecilia_Dympna on Yesterday at 01:49:39 PM »
Prayers for Mary and her family
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Source link is enough to know it's silly.

It's probably the most widely read Traditionalist website out there.  The articles and comments there are generally representative of Catholic Traditionalism.
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Other Topics / Re: W.A.G.-word association game
« Last post by Ainnir on Yesterday at 01:39:08 PM »
pencil
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Ministry Forum / Re: Non-priesthood track pastoral training
« Last post by Ainnir on Yesterday at 01:37:50 PM »
The Jordanville (also ROCOR Chicago diocese) leads to a diploma.

So, yeah.

But what does this entitle you to do within the church? My former parish elevated a 22-year old, with absolutely no religious or theological training whatsoever (and who is 3/4 of the way through a Political Science degree), to deacon. If I have this, in addition to my Masters in Political Science...?
I think "entitles" is a strong word.  Nothing entitles us to do anything within the Church.  As for degrees...1 Corinthians 13.  :)
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Other Topics / Re: Favorite Poems
« Last post by Iconodule on Yesterday at 01:37:14 PM »
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.


Dulce et Decorum Est

Wilfred Owen

A recent episode of Radio War Nerd covered WWI poetry and they talked a bit about the context of this poem. Nowadays we think of this poem as a typical WWI poem, when in fact we know about it chiefly due to post-war anthologists. During the war, the really popular stuff was fully pro-war. Owen's first draft of "Dulce Et Decorum Est" had been dedicated to Jessie Pope, a really popular pro-war poetess. He later dropped the dedication because he felt it might seem bullying. Here's a famous example of Jessie's work, to which Owen was responding:

Who’s for the game, the biggest that’s played,
The red crashing game of a fight?
Who’ll grip and tackle the job unafraid?
And who thinks he’d rather sit tight?
Who’ll toe the line for the signal to ‘Go!’?
Who’ll give his country a hand?
Who wants a turn to himself in the show?
And who wants a seat in the stand?
Who knows it won’t be a picnic – not much-
Yet eagerly shoulders a gun?
Who would much rather come back with a crutch
Than lie low and be out of the fun?
Come along, lads –
But you’ll come on all right –
For there’s only one course to pursue,
Your country is up to her neck in a fight,
And she’s looking and calling for you.
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Other Topics / Re: Favorite Poems
« Last post by Iconodule on Yesterday at 01:26:25 PM »
Helen, by Odysseus Elytis

Summer was killed with the first drop of rain
Words that had given birth to starlight were drenched
All those words whose single goal was you.
Where will we stretch our hands now the weather no longer takes us into account?
On what will we rest our eyes now the distant horizons have been shipwrecked by the clouds
Now that your eyelashes have closed over our landscapes
And-as through the fog passed through us-
We are left alone, utterly alone, encircled by your dead images?

Forehead to windowpane we keep watch for the new sorrow
Death will not lay us low so long as You exist
So long as there exists a wind elsewhere to enjoy you fully
To clothe you from close by as our hope clothes you from far away
So long as there exists elsewhere
A green plain reaching beyond your laughter to the sun
Telling the sun secretly how we will meet again
No, it isn’t death we will confront
But the minutest autumnal raindrop
An obscure feeling
The smell of wet earth in our souls that grow continually farther apart.

And if your hand is not in our hands
If our blood is not in the veins of your dreams,
The light in the immaculate sky
And the unseen music inside us
Still bind us, sad wayfarer, to the world
It is the damp wind, the autumnal hour, the separation,
The elbow’s bitter prop on the memory
That awakens when night starts to cut us off from the light
Behind the square window facing towards grief
Revealing nothing
Because it has already become unseen music, flame in the fireplace, chime of the huge clock on the wall
Because it has already become
A poem, line succeeding line, sound keeping pace with the rain, tears and words--
words not like others but these too with a single goal: You.
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Other Topics / Re: Last thing you ate
« Last post by Asteriktos on Yesterday at 01:10:07 PM »
My first time trying authentic Korean food

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We should refer to it as what it is- the Ukraine Exarchate of the EP.
No it isn't.
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Reviews / Re: The most metaphysical orthodox books/texts
« Last post by WPM on Yesterday at 12:54:17 PM »
20th century philosophy
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