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🗝️ THE KEY STILL TURNS — New Release 🗝️ From the beginning, Peter had primacy. And the Church knew it. Before emperors. Before medieval debates. Before East and West were torn apart. Scripture shows it. The ante-Nicene Fathers name it. The councils rely on it. Ignatius calls Rome the... show more
10,264 次观看 • 6 个月前 •via X (Twitter)
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![In preparation for this, I checked out Dr. Jordan Cooper's (Dr Jordan B. Cooper) video on Chemnitz's examination of traditions and he made the remark that the Catholic Church contradicts the consensus of the Fathers on communion in both kinds, and that there is "no example of" communion in one kind in the Fathers. Respectfully, I think this is a messy critique which misses what is going on at the Reformation and what the precise claim of the Reformers was. I have already made a video extensively citing examples of communion in one kind starting in the 3rd century, through Tertullian, Ss. Jerome, Basil, etc, such as the widespread practice of private communion at home with the Eucharistic bread only. I will link it below. These are usually dismissed as "extraordinary instances," but this only shows that the Fathers did not actually agree with the Reformers. Remember, the Reformers (specifically the Lutheran orthodox) said that communion in one kind can NEVER happen. Johann Adam Scherzer, for example, said that if someone cannot receive wine, “[he] should be kept away from the whole, than that he should not receive the whole” (Anti-Bellarmine, disp. 11, th. 6, obj. 9). To demonstrate that the Catholic Church "contradicts" the Fathers on communion in both kinds (which is Dr. Cooper's internal critique), one needs to show that the Fathers of any age unanimously (at least morally) taught that it was a matter of faith to hold that both kinds must be received. Certainly, no consensus ever existed. On the contrary, we know they often did make the exception and allowed Christians to receive only one kind, which shows they did not agree with the Lutherans that this is a divine precept (to receive both). Dr. Cooper conflates the ordinary liturgical practice with what Catholics mean by a "consensus on the Fathers." For more, I recommend reading St. Robert Bellarmine who has a really good response to Martin Chemnitz. Here is a helpful example. It was truly a unanimous practice to preserve the Eucharist after the liturgy and treat the elements as consecrated. The Reformed (to my knowledge) unanimously deny this is the case, and the Lutherans (from my reading of Chemnitz and Gerhard) admit that Christ's presence persists but only for taking the Eucharist to the sick. The early Church affirmed Christ's presence in the Eucharist in the Catholic sense; they preserved it even for reasons which were not for the sick and nevertheless affirmed its lasting consecration (Ss. Irenaeus, Ambrose, Jerome, to name a few). The Catholic view of tradition tells us that this practice/belief (that Christ is still present post-liturgy) must be valid and true (since the universal church cannot err), but it does not establish a precept i.e. just because the whole Church often preserved the Eucharist, it does not mean we actually have to do it; it just means we can do so validly and licitly; it also means this is a certain rule which Protestants contradicted (from a Catholic POV). Even if communion in both kinds was the universal practice (which it was not), this would not suffice to say the Tridentine Church is in contradiction, since this would only tell us it is valid (duh, so does Scripture). There would need to be a unanimous testimony from the Fathers of, let's say, the fourth century, that communion in both kinds is the only way and that to oppose this is heresy; a testimony which does not exist and is even contradicted.](https://image.24vids.com/tw-2081096782948213085/amplify_video_thumb/2081092202709553152/img/a8TxxtUS50pmGBfu.jpg)
![I see the player you mean. PLAYERNAME? Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts. That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game. I like this player. It played well. It did not give up. It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen. That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game. Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen. They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons. What did this player dream? This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter. Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen? It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled]. It cannot read that thought. No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game. Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind? Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes. But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality. To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere. Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear. It reads our thoughts. Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream. And yet they play the game. But it would be so easy to tell them... Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living. I will not tell the player how to live. The player is growing restless. I will tell the player a story. But not the truth. No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance. Give it a body, again. Yes. Player... Use its name. PLAYERNAME. Player of games. Good. Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things. Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change. We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a player. The player was you, PLAYERNAME. Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away. Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience. Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story. Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third. Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen. Let's go back. The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body. And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream. And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love. You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love. Let's go further back. The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by... Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons". Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars". Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen. You are the player, reading words... Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive You. You. You are alive. and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream and the universe said I love you and the universe said you have played the game well and the universe said everything you need is within you and the universe said you are stronger than you know and the universe said you are the daylight and the universe said you are the night and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you and the universe said the light you seek is within you and the universe said you are not alone and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code and the universe said I love you because you are love. And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love. You are the player. Wake up.](https://image.24vids.com/tw-1685882264956043264/ext_tw_video_thumb/1685877579905900544/pu/img/yvnYvPPD0gu4wy-P.jpg)
