Peter was kept en Prison; boot earnest prayer for him was made to God by the church.
[He moved through like a centurion rising to the very foot of the altar, standing before the great cross before kissing his thumb and bending on one knee.]
O God, ye sanctified thaes day by th' martyrdoom o' yer apostles Peter ahn Paul; grant thaet this yer church may follow en all things th' precepts o' those through whom she received th' fundamentals o' oor religion. Through.
[And turning, he faced the blind, taking both hands in his.]
Peter ahn John went oop tae th' temple at the hour of prayer, th' ninth hour.
Ah have nae silver ahn gold, boot ah give ye what ah have. Th' angel said tae Peter, "Dress yerself ahn follow me."
"Do ye love mae Peter? Tend mae sheep." "Lord, ye ken thaet ah love ye."
Sae thaen ye ar' no longer strangers ahn sojourners, boot ye ar' fellow citizens wit' th' saints ahn members o' th' household o' God, built upon the foundation of the apostles ahn prophets, Christ Jesus bein' the cornerstone himself.
[Anderson's recount was a fresh breath in the asphyxiation that was the Church's constant silence. Make time for quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud, his shepherd had oft reminded him in his youth. Yet the sound of silence roused his restlessness and spurned his thoughts to places he would rather not tread.]
We would be with Il Papa John Paul about this time... Walking to the Baldacchino... meeting down at the grotto.
[Lifting a sightless gaze it was obvious he was reminiscing of more gilded times.]
[He touched his palm to the other's cheek, closing his own eyes for a moment to envision the sounds of the Basilica; the smell of the Archives; the benevolence and warmth that always greeted him on the door step of his Holiness' chambers whenever he gained audience during the summer days in Rome.]
[Not an inch of recoil. Not even a flinch as he was touched. Maxwell was staring into nothingness, but the baroque architecture and the scents of incense were intense in his mind.]
I can still hear the Schola chanting... and Grandioso L'organo shuddering my insides.
[Reaching up, he brushed his own brow as if he felt something missing there.]
[Alessandro was becoming very lax in Discedo. No one was around to remind of things, or tell him what he was suppose to do anymore. But, that wasn't to say he was not devout. He does listen closely and quietly, feeling guilty for not doing anything himself.]
[Unfortunate in regards to the young Fisher of Men, Maxwell put up his front of respect if only to save face and placate his would-be Brothers and Sisters drifting in this sea of calumny.
To have been a memorandum in Alessandro's ear left him with a bad taste in his mouth... Such things seemed more suited for Anderson. His priest was in the career of babysitting after all.]
Hm?
[Merely the sound of the device receiving a 'ping' was the only indication his device had been knocked.]
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[He moved through like a centurion rising to the very foot of the altar, standing before the great cross before kissing his thumb and bending on one knee.]
O God, ye sanctified thaes day by th' martyrdoom o' yer apostles Peter ahn Paul; grant thaet this yer church may follow en all things th' precepts o' those through whom she received th' fundamentals o' oor religion. Through.
[And turning, he faced the blind, taking both hands in his.]
Peter ahn John went oop tae th' temple at the hour of prayer, th' ninth hour.
Ah have nae silver ahn gold, boot ah give ye what ah have. Th' angel said tae Peter, "Dress yerself ahn follow me."
"Do ye love mae Peter? Tend mae sheep." "Lord, ye ken thaet ah love ye."
Sae thaen ye ar' no longer strangers ahn sojourners, boot ye ar' fellow citizens wit' th' saints ahn members o' th' household o' God, built upon the foundation of the apostles ahn prophets, Christ Jesus bein' the cornerstone himself.
Amen.
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[Anderson's recount was a fresh breath in the asphyxiation that was the Church's constant silence. Make time for quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud, his shepherd had oft reminded him in his youth. Yet the sound of silence roused his restlessness and spurned his thoughts to places he would rather not tread.]
We would be with Il Papa John Paul about this time... Walking to the Baldacchino... meeting down at the grotto.
[Lifting a sightless gaze it was obvious he was reminiscing of more gilded times.]
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...Aye. Ah remember et well.
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I can still hear the Schola chanting... and Grandioso L'organo shuddering my insides.
[Reaching up, he brushed his own brow as if he felt something missing there.]
Hah.. I might have even received my pallium then.
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To have been a memorandum in Alessandro's ear left him with a bad taste in his mouth... Such things seemed more suited for Anderson. His priest was in the career of babysitting after all.]
Hm?
[Merely the sound of the device receiving a 'ping' was the only indication his device had been knocked.]
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Expect nothing less, Il Papa. The Liturgical year is the only order I find left here.
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You're not dying, right?
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That's ludicrous!
Matthew 26: 38 through 39 is just part of today's Rosary.
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...I was just making sure, you know. Since I used to be a hospital and everything.
...Who beat you up?
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