• April 4, 2012 /  Reflections

    Dear Bishop ab Domincanus

    Well, life never ceases to amaze sometimes and certainly does keep us busy. A blessing and a curse in many ways, but one which we bear quite willingly. I have taken to spending a little more of my time here at the Abbey, sometimes even neglecting the daily commute back to Church Square and home. The abbot’s bed has become a little less harsh, though I still perfer that of home to this.

    The Abbey is growing on me, I’ll confess. It has a sort of, quiet, austere charm to it all. The monks, though seemingly unable to laugh and only a few still possessing the ability to smile, are quite kind once you do get to know them. Excellent people, the thought brings a smile to me even now. One can wander the grounds for a long time and take in the cold fall air. I am sad that autumn is leaving us behind.. the cold fingers of winter now begin their steady onset. Yet, I think it all shall look quite nice with a blanket of snow and the pond with a good layer of ice.

    I like thinking of such things as the monks and snow on monastery grounds. Far preferable, I find, to some of the other thoughts of late. I cannot quite place it, but I feel so.. weary these days. Far more weary than I ever did as Cardinal. And in the midst of the weariness, I miss Julea all the more. I visit he grave from time to time, give the news of the city, talk about it all. It helps, though not quite enough lately. The questions of her death remain unanswered, hidden amongst the whispers and shadows of Lithmore. Part of me desires to confront the one man I have not confronted on the death. I wish to see His Majesty, but I am afraid of what might happen if I do. I mean, I’m not -stupid-, am I? But still, he is the one who I cannot face, not yet. Perhaps.. perhaps I should invite him to the Abbey, show him about our grounds. I might like that, I think. I shall write a letter.

    And then there is Lady le Storm. I worry for her sometimes, though have faith. She is young, does not realize all that she does. Yet.. I am sad for her. She must be so afraid beneath it all. Lithmore is different than Tubor, of that you can be sure, and she has so many new things to think about and attend to. To me, she’s become the troublesome, mildly annoying teenage daughter I’ll never have. She gives me grey hairs, yes, but I can’t help loving her like a father would a child. A lot of Lithmore seems to draw that sort of affection from me lately. Not a bad thing, I suppose.

    How are you faring, Bishop? I heard that the Spiritists have sprouted up again in Irisum, a pity. Send my regards to mother and father, ask them to have faith in me. They are in my prayers. Of course, you are as well and your good work. Please, I ask your prayers of me as well. Lord knows I need them.

    Sincerely,
    Fr. Piuso

  • March 31, 2012 /  Reflections

    Oh, it feels good to be on me feet again. I was not made to lie in a bed, hospital or otherwise, and my bones were itching to return to the city. And return I did.

    Seems not much changed in my absense, save the arrival of this noblewoman. Lien le Storm. She is an interesting soul, that much can be seen. Reminds me of Jules in someways, other ways no. They both have an aptitude for trouble, that is quite evident. She’s become something of a daughter to me, which is interesting. I like her, she’s nice enough. An interesting woman and a challenge to be honest. I do like challenges. Oh and her soul, it has many little things to work out, love not the least of which. That seems common.. love is either perverted to politics or to pleasure. Our greatest sin really, for is God not Love? The love of a priest to his flock, the love of a mother to child, of a husband to a wife, these are things which come from God and yet, its become a commodity in our culture. People use it for everything it is not for: forming alliances, justifying evils, hedonistic searches for happiness, so many things..

    And then there is the common men. I’ve been taking a lot of confessions lately, this is true. Gives one a lot of perspective, which is good. My theory with the last upholds. People are looking after God but in all the wrong places. They say they want to be happy, so they throw themselves to drugs, sex, parties, general debauchery. Its disturbing really. The soul of man cannot find peace save in God and all which is not God is dust. It is here for but a moment and then passes upon the winds of time. That which comes from God lasts into eternity. I am not saying life cannot be fun, but we have to have a base, a firm foundation, and the only one that shall do is the Lord and His Church. Such has been my advice of late, God grant that the souls that need it do hear.

  • March 15, 2012 /  Reflections

    Sunlight filters through the stunning stain glass of the Cathedral as I step in. All at once, it is familiar, warm. Home. Yet, it seems to be too large for home. Its expanse too great. Its air too cold.

    I remember the last time I was thinking of these things. I was an Acolyte with too much zeal for my own good. I’d passed all the tests with flying colors. This had been what I’d been moving to my entire life: Priesthood. Because of that, it’d be alright. I could not be more wrong.

    And here I am again, on the threshold of this movement yet again.  I feel so sure, yet so unsure.  Its the Cloth that I’ve always known, so why am I anxious.  I wore it many years, why is it now seeming so heavy.

    I was Cardinal, then nothing, now Priest. Funny how it all comes full circle. This time though, it shall be better. This time, I shall stay the course. This time, I know what must be done.

  • March 14, 2012 /  Reflections

    Undoubtedly, the whispers have been heard. They are true, most at least, I am sad to say. Much of this time, I have been thinking on if I should say anything to it to the King. The man is one who I have, admittedly, been wanting to speak to yet, wholly cautious of any encouter. Suffice to say, I believe he was utterly wrong in this case. Indeed, this I believe, that Julea had sin, yes. But that sin was not enough for her death. I’ve been asked, why I stoped her Pyre. It is because, I believe, to send her to it would have been sacrelige. We have the Pyre as a last and purely final resort. To send a soul not needing it to the flame taints the flame, a sin which shall be answered for. This was not simply my decision, as I stated, the clergy and prelates agreed. Indeed, there were but two advisors who disagreed: His Majesty and Her Holy Honor. I prayed, Dav spoke, I followed.

    And yet, there was sin later. I’ll freely confess it, as I did in the cellula, I fell to sin. It has been a wholly.. humbling experience. Often, we who sit so high in the Church forget that beneath all the robes, we are but men. Our souls are no more strengthened than the man who walks down the street. Our virtue is no inherently greater. Our hearts are not somehow protected by greats walls. Indeed, its these things that we must always remember, for two reasons. Firstly, to keep ourselves always aware and on the look out, but also to improve who we are as Priests, to remember that we are just as much a sinner as the man on the otherside of the confessional. We’re afraid to admit it, I think. As are the people.

    I offer no excuses for my actions. They were my sins, borne of human error. They are my fault, my fault, my most grievous fault. Yet, can I say I regret? I’m not sure.. I am penitent, yes. I admit the wrong. I admit that I am sorry. But, when it comes to it, I look and see that what I did, in some ways, was going to pass eventually. Once I admitted to myself my heart, I think it would not allow itself resolved. I’ve come out the wiser. One of the greater powers of Heaven is not to keep us from sin, but to transform sin to virtue. I think, in an odd way, I found a chastity in my lust. A fuller understanding of the celibacy I shall retake from its prior violation. Come the end, I love Julea Sanguine and she loved me. -That- needs no penance. -That- was not a wrong. I but wish it could have come to a better conclusion. That I had had the strength to allow myself to make the right decision sooner and left the clergy before I tried to run after and explore that love. My sin, truly, was disgracing the Church. It is for that which I wear my new brand. Its for Jules’s death that I wear the scars of my heart.

    Come the end of this, we all have lessons to learn. Forgiveness not being the least. Julea Sanguine should not have died that night. She was not treasonous. All I can say now is that I know she is in Heaven, I shall meet her there one day. I pray for His Majesty’s soul, for understanding on his part for something I frankly believe he did not understand and yet acted on nonetheless. He is a man too, I hope he never forgets that. For just as I have sinned, so shall he. He’ll have to be ready to face his conscience once he does.

    Now, I take my final penance. The cloth shall again be mine, though now properly consecrated to atonement. I’ll take whatever burden the Mother Church sees fit.. its only proper. I again am a servant, the servitude I violated. In the end, I’ll be the better for this, God be willing.

  • March 11, 2012 /  Reflections, Soundtrack

    This world is dark, Jules.

    Its full of evil, full of hurt.

    Men wander, like shades, seeking happiness.

    Seeking but a moment of love.

    I found it in you, my love.

    I was happy, if but for a moment.

    And now, dear.

    We pass into the dark.

    Don’t be afraid.

    I’m close behind.

    http://youtu.be/j6XZsau7CSk
     

  • March 3, 2012 /  Quotes and Logs, Reflections

    “His power is infinite, and if I lean on Him it will be mine; His wisdom is infinite, and if I look to Him for counsel I shall not be deceived; His goodness is infinite, and if my trust is stayed on Him I shall not be abandoned. Hope unites me to my God and Him to me. Although I know I am not sufficient for the burden, my strength is in Him. For the salvation of others I must bear weariness, face dangers, suffer offences, confront storms, fight against evil. He is my Hope.” – St. Pope Pius X

    Consider, my brethren, Saint Celeste. An odd request, you all may think, to think on this child-martyr of ours. She is an oddity in the Faith of this Church, an inexplicable figure amongst the high and mighty saints and lords of Heaven, the likes of Saint Aelwyn and Dav. These were mighty men, great politicians and statesmen. These were men of honor, of strength. They bore with them the great swords of Faith, the strong blades of Truth. And with them, the executed the will of God without question. Their memories be blessed and may we all look to them as examples in our own lives. Yet, I’ve not called you here to consider St. Aelwyn and Dav. I’ve not called you here to as what is easy, to think on a bravery which though uncommon, can be said to come naturally to us men. No, my friends, I’ve called you here on a wholly different purpose. On one which indeed may be all the harder than asking you to fight for your Faith: the task of dying for it.

    Saint Celeste, as you know, was a child and she bore that one thing which it seems so many of us, indeed Cardinals an Priests included, have lost, that is, innocence. Saint Celeste had no memory of the blade, the ways of war were wholly unknown her. Of all the great, wonderful, and terrible things of the Urth, St. Celeste knew but one, God. And with that knowledge, she went unto a vocation not unlike that of Saint Aelwyn or Dav, yet entire worlds apart. She went to death.

    St. Celeste remainds us of, what I think, is thing we struggle the most with as people. She reminds us of our mortality, that common thing which many over the years have tried to cheat, but which we all have failed. I do not believe there are many among us today who couls speak with perfect honesty and say that they are at peace with the prospect of death. All our lives, we spend evading it in one form or another. We are driven by the hunger to live, to somehow carve out a niche in this world which is unerasable. We are driven mad by our desire to create a lasting existence, one which remains past the brief blink of an eye which is our time here. Yet, with Saint Celeste, we are reminded it is all for not. Where others dream of deaths surrounded by glory. Where others seek a passing which is to be remembered, one passed down in the tales of bards and the writings of scholars, Celeste sought holiness. She did not desire the world see her. She slipped from it and disappeared into the deep forests that surround the Spring. She ran from the world and fled into the arms of God. And there, she died. She died not with a blade in her hand or on her feet in battle. She died not with the fervor of a warrior in her heart or the strength of a soldier. She but fell to her knees, took up a rose, a flower which she meant to empart unto the Spring to which she had dedicated her life. she closed her eyes and with little but the last breath of a prayer, she accepted death. She accepted mortality.

    When I began my Cardinalate, I saw myself as to stand in the shoes of St. Aelwyn. I saw the world as a battlefield where the enemies of the Faith prowled like wolves to destroy the innocents. I saw the Urth as a dark wilderness full of dangers and snares and I looked to St. Aelwyn as an example of how one must take such things on. I took up his sword. I told myself that I should serve the Chalice by it, like he did. That it would be the mighty reckoning for sin that was needed if we ever were to be free of it. I left St. Celeste and I took up the war banner of the armies of Heaven. I can say now, that as I stand here, that though I joined a good and mighty company. One which many of you are destined to join and that the members of should always be remebered for their bravery and sanctity, I had chosen not the path carved out for me by the Lord. My predecessors have been great politicians and statesmen. They have been examples of the greatness a Cardinal can achieve. I look to them with great admiration, but also with the realization that I cannot be as they were. I, to be frank, play a horrible game of chess. Yet, what does that game of chess matter? For what do I play it? For when I pass this life, as I one day shall, for what do what to be remembered? Do I wish to be remembered for myself? Do I want for my name the mighty title of ‘Saint’ or the great ceremonies of the Church? Nay, indeed I would deplore such for myself. For when I pass from this world, I do not desire these things. Indeed, I desire that I be forgotten. For nothing which I do here today, have done in days past, or shall do in the days come has proceeded from myself, but from God. Nothing good which shall come of my moment here on Urth shall have been the product of my own ingenuity or cleverness, of my political savvy or careful play. No, it shall have come from Heaven. For, in the end, what things of this Urth shall last the winds time save that which is grounded in holiness? We, friends, are dust. All that we do is dust. And unto dust all these things shall return. Yet, when we take up prayer. When we take up the path which we have been given. We need not fear. Death is not my enemy. He is powerless against me for he cannot take from me anything which has not already been given. My mission is to toil for the salvation of souls, and death cannot take salvation from any man. Though time shall wear at my body and at all human memory of my existence. Though years from now, I may be at the very best a footnote in an ancient book of history, I shall not have lost. For, if I live my life as I now resolve to. If I now throw myself into the fullest service of God, what shall come of me that I desire to remain is that everyone here may recieve the bliss of heaven. I give my name as ransom for your souls. I give my strength as payment. My comfort as trade. I desire that I die poor of all honors, a pauper of all things but holiness.

    Some among you may call me a fool for this. There shall undoubtedly be whispers in courts of the mad Cardinal who commited for himself a death to all political success. Very well, for if what do now is folly, I desire not wisdom. Indeed, the wisdom of God makes all men fools. I’d gladly be fool for God.

    I’ll not wear my sword again. Instead, I’ll carry my rose.

  • March 1, 2012 /  Reflections

    Of all the things I’ve done in this life, I feel most like a Priest when I hear confessions.  The cellula is dim, I sit behind the grate. No longer am I ‘Your Holiness’ I am ‘Father’.  Lithmore trickles in, the rich and the poor, the humble and proud, strong and weak.  It helps us to see, I think, that despite what we may think , we truly are not that different.  Each of us has a face, each of us has a soul, and each of us sins.  I listen to their whispers, their tears, in the dark. And I speak softly, not with mine own words, but as God’s mouthpiece.

    Beyond that confessional, who I am is flawed.  I am the Cardinal and try as I might, I am but a man.  Yet behind that grate, I’m able to be what God wills me to be.  I am a Priest, a holy Priest, and despite any of my human weakness, I am there, stripped of my sin, to be a guide. A light in the darkness moving forward to say ‘Come! Follow me and when you do, be not afraid!”  Its that moment when all the mistakes of this life fall away to its successes, that my weakness, which is so evident to me, fades away.

    In the confessional, I find the path to Heaven. Beyond it, I follow along faithfully.

  • February 25, 2012 /  Reflections

    These hours have been a blur, as if the world has passed me by in an instant. Yet, each second seems like an eternity now.. and my face is beginning to show it.  I sit on this Cathedra, wear the robes, and look out upon so many faces everyday. I’ve seen demons, I’ve seen mages, I’ve looked sin in the face and defeated it time and time again. Yet, no day has been so hard as today.

     

    And to think it began with something so innocent, morning prayer, time with the Acolytes, Synod work, Synod work, Synod work.. and then I was off for the little bit of rest I deserved, a chance to masquerade as someone else if only for a moment. And yet, there I was, faced with that conflict which has rent me so much of late.. there I was, again dancing on a dream. And we shared that one moment, that brief second in time..

     

    And even as I drew that breath, even as I slipped away, anguished, confused.. I felt oddly pleasant as if, somehow, somewhere, life would resolve itself. The Lord would console me. Somehow, it would work for the best, somehow..

     

    My soul is heavy and I’ve seen pain. I knew not how much it would hurt to see you there. Yet, I had to. God, You know how much I hate that place.

     

    And here I am. All the conflicts of this life, of this office, seem now to come crashing down. The Cathedral itself offers no solace now. I kneel at the altar and for a moment, I feel safe.. but it passes, I must venture out. Oh, how life can go from a stable structure to broken ruins so quickly.

     

    God shall save you, He’ll keep your soul and renew it.. no matter what comes.

    Yet, I cannot know if He’ll give me the same. I pray He does.

     

    O Lord, why do I feel so alone? Are You not here?

    I wear this crown of thorns

    Upon my liar’s chair

    Full of broken thoughts

    I cannot repair

    And you can have it all,

    My empire of dirt,

    I will let you down,

    I will make you hurt.

    If I could start again

    A million miles away

    I would keep myself

    I would find a way.

  • February 23, 2012 /  Reflections

    Its cold in the Cathedral at night.
    Very cold.

    The stain glass windows, once bright and alive with the dancing sunlight, have gone dark
    and silent.

    And yet, here I am.
    I kneel at the icy stone rail
    Before me, lit by the flickering specters of its candles
    Is the altar
    The altar I swore to serve upon
    And vowed to uphold.
    Its all that’s in view now
    Even the chalice above it is shrouded
    And behind me are even darker shadows
    They seem all the more sinister now

    Ashes to ashes
    Dust to dust
    In my heart a fire burns
    But what is its fuel?
    And does it provide warmth?

    O Lord, what am I doing?

  • February 19, 2012 /  Reflections

    A fulfilling vocation, the Priesthood. The Lord has chosen for himself men and women from across the realm. It seems difficult for some, the celibacy. However, they fail to see, the love that they show for their spouse, for their children, it is the Lord’s will for some that it expand and encompass all peoples by His grace. It is a happy life, one that is full of endless reward. Some may look down on it because of celibacy, but truly, its so much more… The celibacy is there to ensure that we can love as we are able. And from it, we find freedom and joy. I – I know what it can feel like to be in love.. However, for those of us who have been chosen, there is little place for us but at the altar. And at the end of the day, despite what I may feel, I know its true for me… and I believe that its true for you. And I tell myself a prayer which has echoed in my heart since my earliest days: “I shall go to the Altar of Dav..”

    Hearing that, I feel comforted and warm, as if in the arms of a kind father. I know I’ve made the right choice, despite what heartache I may feel at times. I know that despite what may come, even martyrdom, I shall have walked down the right path. In the darkness, prayer has been my light and before me I’ve kept always the image of a God so great. No matter what comes, I shall run into His arms as I’ve so desired. As the sun sets, there is no doubt, there is no fear. Only Love and its Origin.