Dear Friends,We are sorry to report that the response to our fundraising appeal sent a few days ago has been dismal. A few donations came in during the first hours after the e-mail went out, but the trickle has quickly dried up.
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Dear Friends,We are sorry to report that the response to our fundraising appeal sent a few days ago has been dismal. A few donations came in during the first hours after the e-mail went out, but the trickle has quickly dried up.
Visit source:
“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21 Dear Readers,How many billions, with a “b,” were spent during the last election?
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“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21 Dear Readers,How many billions, with a “b,” were spent during the last election? Whether your candidates won or lost, please consider the following question: now that the great electoral effort is over, are we any closer to a society in which the center of our common life is the truth that we are beings created in the image of God
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Gabriel Olearnik No word was given me, no legend no ringing play, no tapestry of the coming time. I did not know my name and of all things there was only the lapping light, the sword and sharp sand beneath my feet
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On the Occasion of the 2,757th Birthday of the City of RomeApollo shines bright on her dappled stucco walls, Like a vast and blank and gold-spotted canvas Ripe with a possibility as multiform as the City (For there is only ever one City) In which it hangs like a vast inhabited museum exhibit.This City, Holy Roma, like a sentient artwork, like A gilded Jesuit ceiling overfilling its lobèd, gilded frame: Sant’ Ignazio, armored with silver and lapis lazuli, Dances on etherial clouds bleached to martyrial, Apocalyptic light by the Holy Name (The HaShem of the Ghetto, The Theos of the Greeks) Enthroned in a dazzling Sunburst like a sacred klieg light full of swarming puffing Cherubim like sweet lemon-gold puffins. A son-et-lumière for the salvation of souls Full of the light that is the life of men.My chalice overfloweth
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Grace AndreacchiFresh snow on the fieldsand all along the trackfrost flowers blooming.In the distance a single lightflickers and diesOverhead the stars like golden firefliesare winking in the forest of the night.I have put on my corals and rubiesI have put on my robe of purest lightI have sewed my heart to the sleeve of my garmentIch bin bereit.EmailPrintMoreDigg
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