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The resultant concoction is an admixture of imagery, text, poetry, persuasion and the sense that all this nonsense just might have more truth in it than the most weighty of tomes, the most distinguished of discourses.
[Wassily Kandinsky, Lo spirituale nell’arte] The contrast of tonalities, loss of balance, dying “principles”, like the unexpected beat of a drum, weighty questions, aimless strife, lost impulses and longings, severed chains or ties, the antitheses and contradictions comprise the harmony of our day.
Frequently, work for school is not even the student’s main concern, as students are sometimes faced with weighty lives and choices.
Since a few purviews don't permit constraints on inferred guarantees, or impediments of obligation for weighty or coincidental harms, these confinements may not make a difference to you.
The implicit brand integration by Blackberry Limited could be regarded as effectual as it serves positive narrative congruence that goes well alongside the weighty theme of the series, which centers around bureaucratic conflicts and administrative security around the White House establishment.
(r 10) da__ Judge of the (four) regions is your weighty sworn name, the circumspect one, Illil of the [great] gods, who establishes the rules of the Abyss, gives allotments and food offerings to the [great] gods.
Having launched J. Crew Group’s Madewell and worked there as the head designer for nearly eight years, she also has a knack for injecting coolness into affordable basics. She faces a similar, if not more weighty, task at Lucky, which was founded 25 years ago and is now owned by private equity firm Leonard Green &
We assess those factors in light of the limited evidence put forward by both parties at this very preliminary stage and are mindful that our analysis of the hardships and public interest in this case involves particularly sensitive and weighty concerns on both sides.
We assess those factors in light of the limited evidence put forward by both parties at this very preliminary stage and are mindful that our analysis of the hardships and public interest in this case involves particularly sensitive and weighty concerns on both sides.
Maybe your male voice is weighty and sets out facts, while your female voice is light and playful, and concerns itself more with feelings.
When they do, the more weighty or stringent duty wins out.
In the beginning days of her rather weighty issue, Remilia was greeted with the arrival of a soft pr otrustion from her midsection, it's squishy roundn ess being easily visible through her frilly beige top that had failed in covering it's attempts to p eek forth from it's confines.
And yes, you can take on weighty feelings when praying.
In 1864 the Ecumenical Patriarchate Opens Syncretistic Dialogue With the Armenians, Presuming Their Mysteries To Be Valid DEDICATION. Kingʹs College, Cambridge, Festival of the Annunciation, 1866. MY DEAR HOPE,‐‐Permit me to inscribe to you the following pages, prepared under your roof, and bearing on a subject in which I know you to take a lively interest. They relate to the aspirations after Christian Unity expressed by an eminent Oriental Prelate, and bear very directly, as I have endeavoured to show, on the longing desire of many among ourselves after more intimate relations with the great Eastern Church. And it is surely a most remarkable and memorable combination, which presents to us a Gregory of Byzantium, Metropolitan of Chios, as mediator for the reconciliation to the Catholic Family of the Church founded by Gregory the Illuminator in the far East; and in that capacity‐‐unconsciously to himself‐‐helping forward a better mutual understanding between the Orthodox Church and that founded by the pious care of Gregory the Great in the then remotest West. If only the large‐hearted and intelligent charity exhibited by the Archbishop of Chios in the pages of his learned Treatise, were more widely diffused among us, the hindrances to Catholic Unity, which we have discussed together, insurmountable as they now appear, would speedily vanish away, and the idea of ʺone fold and one Shepherdʺ would no longer be regarded as an unattainable dream of a visionary and enthusiastic [iii/iv] imagination. The reviving faith of divided Christendom would then grasp the Divine promise, ʺthere shall be;ʺ and the kindling charity of Christian brotherhood would set itself in earnest to realize it, ʺbeing fully persuaded that what He hath promised, He is able also to perform.ʺ Yours most affectionately, GEORGE WILLIAMS. A. J. B. Beresford Hope, Esq., M.P., Bedgebury Park. N.B.‐‐This Series of Tracts will be issued gratuitously to the Members of the Eastern Church Association; and may be procured by non‐Subscribers of Messrs. Rivington: London, Oxford, and Cambridge. Number I., on the ʺApostolical Succession in the Church of England. A Letter to a Russian Friend.ʺ By the Rev. William Stubbs, M.A., Librarian to His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, and Vicar of Navestock. Number II., on the ʺEssential Unity of the Church of Christ.ʺ Extracted from ʺAn Eireniconʺ by E. B. Pusey, D.D., Regius Professor of Hebrew, and Canon of Christ Church, Oxford, with the sanction of the Author. YEARNINGS AFTER UNITY IN THE EAST. AMONG the numerous indications of an earnest longing after the reunion of the estranged families of the Holy Church Catholic which the present age is witnessing, not one is fraught with more hopeful promise to the cause of the Christian faith than that attempt to reconcile the Armenian with the Greek Orthodox Church to which I wish to call attention in this Paper. Yet it is not merely, nor even mainly, on this account that I desire to bring these facts under notice; but chiefly because of their direct bearing upon the cause in which our interests and exertions are engaged,‐‐that, namely, of the restoration of friendly relations, and ultimately, if it please God, of inter‐ communion between ourselves and the Orthodox Church of the East. It will not, therefore, be necessary for my purpose to enter into any investigation of the causes that have so long alienated those two venerable and important communities of Eastern Christendom, the Gregorian Armenians, and the Orthodox Greeks. Still less could it subserve any good end to revive the discussion of the various points at issue between them for the past fourteen centuries of mutual crimination and recrimination, of misrepresentation and misunderstanding. Suffice it to say that now, at length, through the Divine mercy, more reasonable counsels would seem to be gaining the ascendant; the thick clouds of partiality and prejudice are vanishing away before the cheering beams of Christian love; the Sun of Righteousness has risen with healing in His wings over those two God‐fearing nations; and that prophetic Word is beginning to have its Evangelical accomplishment:‐‐ʺThe [5/6] envy also of Ephraim shall depart, and the adversaries of Judah shall be cut off: Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah shall not vex Ephraim.ʺ [Isa. xi. 13.] What the blessed results of such a reconciliation would be, can be estimated only by those who have witnessed, as I have, the lamentable consequences of the divisions of Christendom in the East. My convictions on this point, which I ventured to express twenty years ago, before any idea of such a reconciliation had been entertained, have been only confirmed by time. It would be like ʺlife from the deadʺ to the nations where the power of the Cross has been paralyzed for centuries by the shameful factions of Its natural champions. [Holy City, vol. ii., pp. 554‐556.] Chief among the living promoters of this much‐to‐be‐desired union is Gregory of Byzantium, the actual Metropolitan of Chios, whose weighty words it is the main object of this paper to introduce to the reader. It is now more than eighteen months ago that he commenced in the columns of the ʺByzantis,ʺ a Greek orthodox newspaper, published at Constantinople, the issue of a ʺTreatise on the Union of the Armenians with the Catholic Orthodox Church.ʺ This Treatise, commenced on the 1st of July, 1864, was continued in twenty numbers of the Journal, until October 24th of the same year, from which date it was interrupted until November 3rd, 1865, when it was resumed, and is still being continued in the same Journal. This most learned and valuable argument, historical and doctrinal, for the orthodoxy of the Armenian Church, so long suspected by the Greeks to be tainted with Monophysite heresy, is one of the most remarkable phenomena of modern times, as it is certainly one of the most able controversial works of this century. But it would be beside my present purpose to enter into a review of it in these pages. My purpose in referring to it is, to introduce a portion of the Work which is of the greatest practical importance to ourselves at the present juncture, when the possibility of the restoration of union between the Anglican Church and the Orthodox Eastern Church is occupying the attention of so many members of our [6/7] Communion, and has already so far attracted the attention of the Convocation of Canterbury, that a Committee of the Lower House was appointed in 1864, for the purpose of considering the subject, and has been reappointed in the new Convocation. At such a time, nothing could be more opportune than the opinion of a learned Prelate of the Orthodox Eastern Church on the means to be adopted with a view to restoration of intercommunion between two long‐estranged branches of the Christian family; and it cannot be wrong to regard this action, taken by the Metropolitan of Chios, as providential, in view of our aspirations after communion with Eastern Christendom. It is certainly most remarkable that a Greek Archbishop, having no knowledge, as would appear, of the recent progress of opinion in this country in favour of the re‐union of Christendom, should have furnished, with an entirely different view, precisely what was most wanted for the guidance of our own conduct in opening negotiations with the East. The Treatise is divided into Chapters, of which four were completed before the suspension of the work in 1864. Of these, Chapter I. is occupied with ʺthe Introduction and Progress of Christianity in Armenia.ʺ Chapter II. deals with ʺThe Schism of the Armenian Church, and its Dogmatical difference from the Orthodox.ʺ In the course of this discussion is introduced an account of the various attempts that have been made from time to time to bring about a reconciliation of the Orthodox and Armenian Churches; and long extracts are given from a Dialogue between Nerses IV., Catholicus of Armenia, and Lysias Theorianus, who was appointed by the Emperor Manuel Comnenus, on the part of the Orthodox, to confer with the Armenian Prelate on the subject of the restoration of communion. This Conference took place at Roum‐Kale in A.D. 1175; and the very charitable opening of the discussion is so highly creditable to both parties, and so valuable as a precedent in all like attempts, that I translate part of it, as narrated by the Greek interlocutor. The Catholicus,‐‐ʺHaving read the Imperial Letter, I understand it to be the will of the Emperor, and of the Holy Church of the Greeks, that if we will correct our errors, they are ready [7/8] to receive us as brethren. ʺWe desire, therefore, to be informed what are the points of Faith on which we have erred; and if we can be convicted canonically, with Scripture proof, we will fairly and willingly receive correction.ʺ Theorianus.‐‐ʺI beg your mighty Holiness to receive my remarks with your innate gentleness, and not to think my questions captious; but let this rule be observed in the interrogatories and answers on both sides:‐‐When we hear any thing which seems of unsound meaning, not forthwith to con‐elude that it is heretical; but to inquire carefully, and ascertain the force of the expression, and the mind of him who adopts it.ʺ The Catholicus.‐‐ʺYou say well. So be it.ʺ The third Chapter of the Treatise relates to ʺThe Phases and Variations of Worship among the Armenians.ʺ The fourth to ʺThe Ritualistic Observances and Customs of the Armenian Church.ʺ The fifth Chapter of the Treatise, with which the work was resumed in November last, is that which has the most immediate practical interest for us, as laying down principles directly applicable to our case. It discusses the question, ʺHow the Union of the two Churches may be arranged.ʺ Its importance demands that the general principles laid down in this admirable scheme should be given in full. ʺIn what Manner the Union of the two Churches may be effected. ʺFor the success of this much‐desired union two things are required: (1) The appointment of a Commission for the preliminary investigation and explanation of existing differences; and, (2) The adoption of certain concessions and accommodations, on the basis of the ancient precedents of the Catholic Church. ʺOf the Appointment of a Commission. ʺ1. The Commission to be appointed for the explanation of differences and the consideration of the preliminaries of Ecclesiastical Union, shall be mixed, being selected from the most enlightened Clergy of the two Churches. ʺ2. The members of the Commission to be chosen by each side shall be equal in number, considering the question on a perfectly equal footing, and in a spirit of brotherhood.  ʺ3. No inquiry shall be made concerning the validity of the Orders and of the Baptism of the Armenians; because all doubt on this point is a contradiction to the design of negotiations with a view to the union and reconciliation of Christian brethren, inasmuch as such negotiations of necessity presuppose the acknowledgment of these, as being incontrovertibly fundamental elements of Christianity: and consequently all doubt upon this point renders the appointment of a Commission impracticable; for how can we confer with men who are supposed to be without a priesthood and unbaptized, in other words, with heathens, and consult with them on a footing of equality and brotherhood concerning the doctrines of the Christian faith? ʺ4. Since nothing is more easily excited than national jealousy, therefore, for the removal of all suspicion (by which the whole object of the negotiations may be defeated) of a secret attempt either to Hellenize the Armenian Church or to Armenianize the Hellenic Church, it is necessary that it should be agreed that neither of the two Churches claims to impose its own Ecclesiastical discipline, or its own usages and customs, upon the other; but, on the contrary, should be ready to waive or even to abandon these, so far as they shall be proved contrary to Catholic tradition, and to admit the customs of the other, no longer as Hellenic or Armenian, but as Oecumenical, as being in manifest agreement with the Apostolical Constitutions, the decrees of Oecumenical Synods, and the teaching of the Holy Fathers. ʺ5. Since the negotiations themselves will be a continuation of those held at Roum Kale and Tarsus in 1179, it is requisite that in the proceedings of the
KIDS IN SATAN’S SERVICE Justin Wheatley In Which We’re in the House of God It was on a Sunday morning, in the second row pew of the Church of God, when I knew I wanted to go to Hell. I feel no God in my bones, but I know if He were to exist, he would have to answer committing the mortal sin of forcing young children into his myriad houses of worship. Thirteen years later and I can still feel the fits of heavylidded yawns prying open my jaw every thirty seconds, and I can still see the backward glances at the clock at the back of the sanctuary, just high enough on the wall to (I swear) discourage small children such as myself from paying it too much sinful attention. This was casino psychology. I’m now convinced that it was a form of hypnotic trance that I would fall under. The syrupthick doldrums, the standing still of time. It was a cruel ritual, fit not for any child with the promise of a weekend noontime kicking and pricking in their unscraped, OshKosh B’Goshed legs. There’s the natural buildup that comes before Sunday servicethe inertia of not wanting to go dear God mom please. It was the opposite of suspense. And then after that the Dress Up, in which you decide to rebel and wear your tiny scuffed Chuck Taylors and hope dear God mom please don’t notice. Then she notices and you have to change into your nice church shoes right this second, Justin. We didn’t have money, but I can imagine our church clothes cost us at least three Sundays’ worth of collection plates. My tie was a clipon, but let me tell you, it was a nice clipon. After the Dress Up is the Drive There. The Drive There is mercifully short, as the church is only a couple blocks away. Then there’s the Greeting in the front parking lot of the church. Here you meet with the other Sunday school kids, already anxious, pulling at your clipon tie as if its imaginary grip is too tight around your collar. You kick some gravel around, maybe throw it at the side of the church when no one is looking, because hey man, screw this. You gather into the sanctuary with the other churchgoers. They’re an elderly bunch, save for that attractive young couple sticking out like two spicy thumbs. Then you wait thirty minutes until Sunday School is called into attendance. Such is the Dance of the Dutiful. Rinse and repeat. Reaffirming my deepseated belief that Tom Petty is some sort of mellowedout pop prophet, the waiting was the hardest part of Sunday service. I’m not going to say that I approach the notion of Sunday school as some sort of oasis in the beige desert of organized religion. It’s not often that I agree with the commonly held notion that children are an awful race of persons, because they aren’t. But even at that young age, my peers in youth did nothing for me. I say this not with pride, but with sad bafflement. Was it the glassy stares the Massy brothers would develop when one tried to talk to them? Was it the whitish flecks of dead skin that salted Kevin Dodd’s shoulders, pants, and any tabletop in front of him? Was it the revolving cast of fat women that “taught” the class, on average named Linda, all seemingly doomed to wear the same Dillards floral print dress? I could go on, and each time the answer would be a resounding, bitter ‘yes’. However, to say that Sunday church services in the sanctuary was the most unbearably dull situation that I’ve ever experienced would be a cosmic understatement. While Sunday school was a test of tolerance, services in the sanctuary were a test of character, determination, and the human will.There’s no describing the mental anguish the lack of stimuli during a Church of God service brought upon my young soul. My mother’s side, my browner half, they were all Catholic. Why couldn’t I be Catholic? They had better parties, and better food. Their communions were more fun, even if their grape juice tasted awful. And during Mass, you were never left to your own devices. There were recitations, there was lots of kneeling, there was call and response like some sort of divine stage banter at a really quiet jazz show. In the Church of God you may find a page of a coloring book stuffed into the hymnal slot of the pew in front of you, creased and ripped and scribbled upon, leftovers from the previous Sunday’s young occupant like halfeaten rations mercifully left behind in a foxhole. But this never happened. And even when it did, you’d be no doubt left with a truly awful Lisa Frank page, all jumping ponies and flying unicorns, ready to be ravaged with Tickle Me Pinks and Atomic Tangerines. (The “nontoxic” guarantee on a box of Crayolas never seemed like such a smirking taunt until you’re left in church with bad coloring books and worst colors.) I recall my grandmother being the sole provider of diversions as she gave in to my nonverbal pleas and handed me handfuls of TicTacs, Altoids, and/or sticks of Big Red chewing gum. This respite was, of course, fleeting, just as dust in the wind, or flavor in a stick of her occasional Big Red. They say those in the most desperate times of need will turn to the Bible and find solace in its pages. This couldn’t have been any truer. In my times of need, without any other stimulus to cajole my eyes into staying open, I turned to the Good Book and found sanctuary. Like all good books, it’s the first chapter and the last chapter that deliver the most important information. So I started at the Beginning, and then skipped to the End. The gist was: In the Beginning there was suffering, in the End there will be even more suffering. Made sense. Despite some minor glitches and discrepancies, it was nice of God to direct the Bible’s various authors, editors, and interpreters into chronologically ordering that musty King James edition sunk weighty into my hands. The Bible could’ve easily confused its readership and gone for a more arthouse approach, maybe bookending the inbetweens with two parallel accounts of the apocalyptic showdown, thus signifying the fundamentally circular nature of the eternity concept, or something. Real Joycean shit. But such is not the case. We get Genesis, with God breathing life into the Universe, and we get Revelation, with God annihilating the Earth with fire, dragons, and a horn section (presumably called The Funk of Ages). Here, at Revelation, is where my childhood fascinations landed. Is this boring? Here’s a digression. I once had an idea for a short story. The main character is a young boy in a wheelchair. He goes to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, he hears strange, resonant clops outside the door. He peeks under. Pacing right outside the door are a pair of deepreddish hooves. They are cloven, and they stomp with anger and purpose. They are the Devil’s. For the boy, the story is: Now what? Oh, and somehow the wheelchair played a part in the story. See, I can’t help it, but I’ve always had a lot of affection for, and fascination with, the Satan character. He’s so much more interesting than that pissy Yahweh, or his touchyfeely son, Jesus. We understand Satan, we sympathize with Satan. I know that even the most hardcore evangelical Christian has stopped, looked down at the space between their feet, and thought a nasty, vile thought that only that Infernal Boiler Keeper would understand. I almost pity those who grew up without a Satan figure in their non/religious upbringing. He’s the only fun character in an otherwise selfimportant, overbloated swordandsandals epic. He’s the ultimate bad guy, and the sad part is that the only reason he’s condemned to that role is because he experiences those human emotions that we’ve since had forgiven. It’s not as if he’s Snidely Whiplashing young Bathshebas to the train tracks. He’s simply succumbing to the temptations that his Creator provided him. Free will is a bitch. Why can’t God cut the guy a break? What grudge needs so much keeping that it manages to create a diametrically opposing supervillain for the superdeity grudgee? It’s Pride, which is, as we all know, what sent Satan tumbling down through those Ptolemaic chambers in the first place. I never ended up writing that story. But really, don’t you think Satan was probably relieved to leave the Kingdom of God? How vanilla can things get before you need a little Rocky Road to put some kick into your life? Speaking metaphysically, of course. I don’t like to perpetuate cliches, but here’s one: All the most interesting people throughout history probably made it down to Hell. In Heaven, everything is too fine. I’m not saying that I would want to make company with Hitler or Ted Bundy, but I am secretly thinking it. Really, I’m not so spiritually bankrupt as to admire those monsters from the past. I despise mass murderers, bank collectors, and daytime TV producers as much as the next caucasian male. But let’s all take a deep, honest breath here and consider just how boring Heaven would be. Who wants to drink lukewarm drip coffee with Billy Graham while the late members of Stryper wail painful power ballads over that fluffy white PA system? Pardon my English, but shiiiit. And since we’re being honest, let me clarifyboredom is not the primary reason I’d take Hell over Heaven. The real reason is that I would like to make smalltalk with the evil bastards of the past. I would like to pick Attila the Hun’s brain, or comb through Nietzsche's moustache. But all the same, I don’t want to spend eternity bored out of my mind. Satan, once subservient, once the brightest star, he only wanted to rule Heaven, a desire presumably brought about by the sheerest of boredom. And I knew his pain. Encased in buttons and cornstarch, standing for seven, eight, nine minutes to mouth the words to the same dozen hymns with the same four melodies, keeping my eyes closed for the opening prayer, the halftime prayer, the closing prayer, keeping my eyes open for the recycled sermon and the phonedin open mic testimonies from the slowest and quietest and most elderly members of the congregationI knew Heaven, and it was Hell. And sitting in the second row pew in that Church of God, I would pull out my copy of the Bible, stiff from disuse, and I would read and reread Revelation. Even the Bible’s more adventurous excursionsJob with his Leviathan, Ezekiel with his wheels within wheelshad nothing on Revelation’s bad trip apocalypse. Suffering through the laws of the Old Testament and the parables of the New Testament was worth it, if only for the terrifying wrath of the sevenheaded dragon, or the shimmering pangs of protolust that stabbed in my belly when I read about the (heehee) Whore of Babylon. The psychedelic fire and brimstone had no choice but to enthrall budding senses of story and fiction. As I read through that epic document of Hell and Heaven on Earth, of Satan’s futile struggle to regain control of the world for which he had, and forever will, serve as supreme antagonist, I knew whose side I was on. I knew I had no control over my attendance of the Church of God, at least not until I was old enough to explain to my parents why exactly I had trouble with the discrepant injustices in our religious beliefs. I knew that I would have to endure many more sweaty Oklahoma summers in the basement of the church, trying not to spill my undersugared cherry KoolAid as I made my way through dozens of farty senior citizens in hopes of catching the potluck buffet before the plate of deviled eggs was vultured clean by their papery, blueveined talons. And I knew, above all else, that writing “Hail Satan” in Sharpie on the stall wall of the upstairs mens room was as necessary as it was hilarious.
It’s been like trying to get through the sound barrier, just to get the EV accepted as an option, with a lot of the company effectively being like a heavy weight - drag - so that instead of the vehicle gliding in the slipstream with a well thought out company sales and marketing strategy, instead of it being able to harness and embrace the excitement and creativity of this new vehicle and use that to energise the company and staff, to pull together the collective company energy, for it to be a flagship, for people to be proud of it and want to be associated with it which it could have been, it’s been a long uphill battle with a large part of the company acting as a weighty drag and thereby some of the creativity the vehicle has the potential to generate has been capped, lost, diffused and sometimes used negatively at the people involved with the project.
In the beginning days of her rather weighty issue, Remilia was greeted with the arrival of a soft protrustion from her midsection, it's squishy roundness being easily visible through her frilly beige top that had failed in covering it's attempts to peek forth from it's confines.
But championing change isn’t without its challenges — take the cause of sow gestation crates, an emotionally weighty issue and current hot button in the grocery retail industry.
(Verse 28) The rebuke of the Prophet was much more weighty to them than any words of his own would have been;