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kirain · 9 months

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Saw your comment on a post about Sound of Freedom and I came here to say.....shame on you. Shame. On. You. Since when is child trafficking a political issue? Since when is calling pedophilia bad a political issue? If you have a problem with this movie then maybe YOU'RE the problem. No better than the big Disney fat cats who tried to suppress this movie and keep it shelved. Or theaters messing with the ac and saying seats are sold out when they're empty. Shame on you! God's children are not for sale!

I wish people would do a little more research on this topic. If Hollywood and the "powers that be" didn't want this movie being seen, it wouldn't have been released in over 3000 theatres countrywide. It's being shown in major and minor locations all across America and Canada, and the vast majority of those locations aren't having any problems.

Case and point, my own mother and her friend went to see it last week and everything was fine. No issues whatsoever and the seats were packed. The movie isn't being "suppressed". This is all a marketing gimmick from the production company Angel Studios, a Christian streaming service. The movie is jam-packed with lies and only serves to glorify Tim Ballard, the man the movie is based on, and Christianity as a whole. I truly wish this wasn't political, but it is. They made it political.

Tim Ballard has provably exaggerated or fabricated many, if not most of his "rescues", and his organisation, Operation Underground Railroad, has been widely criticised by professional anti-sex trafficking organizations (including other Christian-based ones) for years. He has accumulated millions of dollars for his so-called "non-profit" organisation, and he runs several for profit organisations on the side. Most of this money is presumably pocketed by Ballard and his cohorts, as millions is unaccounted for and only a sliver goes to OUR. It's not about "saving children", it's about money and spreading Ballard's religious ideology.

This is compounded by the fact that Ballard, before he left the CIA, was almost always the last officer to arrive on any scene where child sex trafficking was involved, yet he somehow has hundreds of stories where he's singlehandedly rescued children. In fact, the "true story" the film is based on, where Ballard apparently saved a five year old boy—who, by Ballard's own account, ran up to him, hugged him, and begged to be taken away—didn't even happen. According to court receipts from the arrest and trial of Earl Venton Buchanan (the pedophile in possession of the little boy), Ballard arrived at the scene long after the boy was rescued and taken into custody, and he was barely involved. The documents can easily be found online under the San Diego incident reports.

Ballard was also caught lying about saving one particular girl named Liliana, the literal poster child for OUR. As it turns out, Liliana rescued herself by escaping her captors when she was seventeen and being trafficked in New York. Even more egregious, every time Ballard told her story, he would lower her age to garner more sympathy ... as if her being seventeen wasn't sad enough. In one instance, he claimed she was 14. In another, he claimed she was 11. Ballard also exploited Liliana's story as a reason for needing stricter border patrols and a better wall, despite the fact that she was being abused in America. There is no evidence to suggest OUR had anything to do with her rescue.

Ballard and his "organisation" have even ruined entire legitimate rescue operations in other countries and put children at risk, like in the Dominican Republic, where he endangered the lives of 26 girls by playing vigilante, being followed around by a camera crew, and causing a shootout that effectively traumatised the children he used as a prop to lure in buyers. His response to the mishap and rightful criticism by the Dominican police was basically, "Well ... you win some, you lose some."

The children were released without receiving any therapy or rehabilitative care, and Anne Gallagher, the leading global expert on the international law on human trafficking, said that OUR has an "alarming lack of understanding about how sophisticated criminal trafficking networks must be approached and dismantled" and went on to call the work of OUR "arrogant, unethical, and illegal". Those children easily could've been shot and killed. This occurred in 2014, but Ballard still insists that his "rescues" be filmed, and he even pitched it as a reality TV show. His reasoning for this, he says, is to "spread awareness", but we all know it's because he loves the spotlight.

Entire law enforcement agencies have actually cut ties with or even condemned OUR, such as Washington State Law Enforcement, as a result of Ballard's proclivity to conflate child sex trafficking with consensual adult sex work. Ballard and OUR regularly set up sting operations and lambasted the men who showed up for kink play, publicly branding them as pedophiles, even though the men in question were under the impression that they were meeting for sex with consenting, adult women. This led to several lawsuits against OUR, all of which they rightfully lost.

Ballard's means of gathering intelligence is also questionable, as he, by his own admission, sometimes consults psychic mediums for information on missing children and asks where they're being held captive. I genuinely wish I was joking about that.

The main actor in Sound of Freedom, Jim Caviezel, also has ties to the Qanon movement, and Caviezel himself is a hardcore conspiracy theorist. He believes that Donald Trump is "the new Moses" and that "liberals [literally] drink the blood of children". This is ironic, considering Caviezel and Ballard both met Trump several times, yet never pressed him for information regarding Epstein's client list. Moreover, Caviezel and Ballard both donate to the Catholic Church, which funds the largest child sex trafficking ring on the southern border and has a history of rampant sexual abuse of children. Even more insane, Caviezel admitted to watching child porn, to apparently "get in character" for the movie. He claimed that if Ballard had to watch it, it only "made sense" that he'd have to watch it, too. To "motivate" him to fight child trafficking.

...Alright, bud.

Surprise, surprise, both men are also outspokenly anti-LGBTQ+, despite the fact that children/teens in that community are statistically more likely to be trafficked. The majority of child trafficking is not the result of random kidnappings, as the movie would have you believe. The majority of children are actually recruited into sexual exploitation by a family member or friend/boss. The majority of those children are also not generally passed around in Mexico, like this racist, white savior-oriented movie would have you believe, but they actually either stay in or end up in America. America is, in fact, the largest consumer of child porn and child sex slaves this side of the globe (and nearly the largest producer), yet the movie depicts almost every pedophile as Mexican or some other non-white race.

At the end of the movie, Ballard comes on screen and asks people to donate/buy tickets for others, so that the movie can spread awareness. This is why so many seats in certain theatres are empty, despite websites saying the seats are sold out. Whether or not Angel Studios is also shadow purchasing tickets to boost sales can't be proven, obviously, but I wouldn't put it past them. These "conspiracies" have all served to market the movie and boost ticket sales.

As for Disney trying to keep the movie shelved, that's also a lie. Yes, Disney did technically shelve the movie when they bought Fox, since it didn't exactly correspond with its family-friendly brand, but they had no problem with the movie being released under a different studio. The actual reason Sound of Freedom was in "production hell" for five years was because Tim Ballard kept trying to milk donations. Despite the fact that filming wrapped up in 2018, he kept asking for more and more and more. He used people's faith and understandably emotional response to something as wicked as pedophilia to rake in millions. That's what Ballard is really about, money and stardom. In the movie, there's even a post-credit message where Jim Caviezel says the movie was held back to "maximize its distribution and raise awareness about child sex trafficking".

Translation: Ballard greedy.

Ballard himself admitted the accuracy of this movie "isn't important", and that he just wanted to get the movie out to "spread the word". By that, he of course means the Christian word—but why should fighting child sex trafficking be tied to religion? At the end of the day, Sound of Freedom is a vanity project, and it spreads incredibly dangerous misinformation. Stranger still, Ballard left the OUR just prior to the debut of Sound of Freedom, a fact he's neglected to mention in every interview regarding the movie. It's not clear why he left, but it seems that he fled after an internal investigation into the organisation began. That's not too suspicious or anything. My guess is authorities are trying to find out were all that missing money went, and Ballard doesn't want to be there when they figure it out.

By the way, that final line you hit me with; "God's children are not for sale", the line from the movie that Ballard claims a fellow agent whispered to him while on a case, as well as the title of the movie, which another agent supposedly said to Ballard after a giant rescue operation—those were lies, too. No agents ever said that to him. The police reports for those cases, as well as the agents Ballard supposedly quoted, all said he was the last to arrive on the scene and those conversations never happened.

Ballard cannot be trusted and Sound of Freedom is based on a lie. It's a scam. Everything he does is a scam. All he cares about is spreading his ideology, making money, and looking like a superhero. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Look into his other companies, and into the ex-military soldiers and police officers who left OUR because of how poorly trained their people are when it comes to rescue operations.

Every sane person knows pedophilia and human trafficking is wrong, but giving your money to Qanon-adjacent, right-wing leaning, LGBTQ+-hating, Catholic Church-sympathising, fame-chasing, money-hungry, perpetual liar Tim Ballard isn't going to help.

The best way to help out is learning about the signs of child trafficking. Keep an eye out for any children that might be getting abused. If you suspect something, report it, don't be a silent bystander. Volunteer within your community to make sure the children in your area have food and resources, support LGBTQ+ youth, and watch the other adults around you to ensure they're not acting inappropriately. You can also donate to social programs that create safe spaces for children and even apply for jobs that specialise in these fields. Don't go to see a movie just because it aligns with your religious beliefs, feel sad for a little while, then sit on your ass and let Tim Ballard handle everything.

#sound of freedom #tim ballard #jim caviezel #christianity #child trafficking #propaganda #angel studios #I can't believe you made me defend Disney

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wingfeathersagafanblog · 2 months

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Season 2 of The Wingfeather Saga is coming SOON! Support the show by purchasing this awesome poster here, and check out the new Season 2 trailer!

#the wingfeather saga #posters #promotional art #season 2 #angel studios #art #You GUYS this is SO COOL???? The design!!! The colors!!! All the characters!!!#I am SO excited and also want this poster now. How EPIC #Sorry for the hiatus - I'm back in WFS hype mode (for obvious reasons) and will try to be much more active again!

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 1 year

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Jesus | The Foxes Have Holes | Platonic

Dialogue prompt: “I have been waiting ever since time began to tell you by name that you are loved by Me.”

Requested: Yes

You’ve lost all hope, until a stranger knocks at your door and asks if you’ve got a place for Him to stay overnight.

The flour dries out your hands as you knead it through the dough, and the chore is heavy enough as is, though your heart weighs it down even stronger. From the adjacent room, your brother coughs raspily, his lungs shrivelling up the more time passes. You pause in your actions, waiting for him to start breathing normally again, and when he finally does, you sigh in relief.

You shape the dough into a decent loaf and check the fire before heaving the bread over onto a slab to bake it on, and you shove it into the furnace, the heat nearly scorching your fingers. For a long moment, you stare at the flames, relishing in the short moment of peace before you hear your name being called from your brother’s bedroom.

“(Y/n)?”

“Yes, David?” you respond, but no reply comes. Dusting your hands down your apron, you make your way over to the poky room where your brother has been bedridden ever since his sickness got to his lungs, which weakened him immensely. He gives you a weak motion of his hand to come closer, and you rush over to his bedside, pushing some (h/c) hair away from his clammy forehead. The fever has not gone down.

“Water…” she gasps, “Please…”

You immediately step away to get it, nodding before heading for the kitchen, where the scent of bread already fills the room. After filling up his cup, you return to help him drink, lifting it to his mouth to assist him in sipping carefully. David’s lips are chapped, his cheeks hollow, and a few dark spots already sit on his skin.

The same kind of spots had been on your abba’s body days before he passed. You feel your heart drop into your gut.

“What’s wrong?” David must have noticed the sorrowful flash behind your eyes.

Forcing a smile over your lips, you give a small shake of your head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” you tell him. You put down the half-empty cup on his nightstand and pull the covers a bit further over his form. “Go rest some more. I need to check on the bread. Do you think you can handle a slice in a bit?”

“No.” David croaks, immediately averse towards eating. You give him a tight-lipped smile and whisper that it’s fine before turning away lest he see the tears in your eyes, burning in sorrow.

Rushing back to the kitchen, you allow a few to escape over your cheeks, and you quickly wipe them away, scolding yourself for already grieving him although he has not yet passed, but you know better than to keep hoping for him to recover. It’s just a matter of time before you’ll find David dead in his bed, succumbed to his sickness.

A knock on the door startles you immensely, and your head immediately goes to it. Taking a peek through the window that is halfway covered with a curtain, you realise that it has been dark out for quite some time, and your heart starts drumming against your chest. You wrap your hand around the nearest weapon – a blunt knife that you find on the kitchen counter – and sneak towards the door.

“Who is there?” you demand firmly, “What are you doing here at this hour? I’m armed, so don’t try anything!”

“Shalom shalom, ma’am,” a male voice sounds from the other side, “I mean no harm nor to bother you, but I’m looking for shelter. Please, I’ve walked all the way from the next village over.”

Your heart is conflicted – how can you open the door to a total stranger in the middle of the night, whilst your brother cannot defend you, but how can you leave him to the forces of nature, forcing him to sleep in the dirt somewhere? – and with a sigh, you unlock the door, creaking it open slightly.

A Man with dark hair, a full beard and glittering eyes looks down at you slightly. Dark circles sit on his features but he musters a meek smile, clearly exhausted. The village is indeed a fair bit off and He looks like He hasn’t had a good night of sleep in days.

“Shalom,” you tell Him, “Before I let You in, why don’t You tell me Your Name? Where do You come from? Why are You here?”

“My name is Jesus,” He explains, “I have been travelling around for a while now. I originate from Nazareth.”

“Nazareth?” you counter with a sound of disbelief, “You’re a far bit from home, then.”

The Man named Jesus nods and gives you a small smile. “So, I was wondering if I could stay the night. I will be gone before breakfast in the morning and do not require any food. All I need is a roof, and all the other people I’ve tried to ask have rejected Me.”

You momentarily look into the small homestead, where David’s cough echoes against the walls. Leaving this Stranger on the road would be dishonourable, but where could you let Him sleep? Taking a deep breath, you turn back to the Stranger, Who is patiently awaiting your answer.

“Are you armed?”

Shaking His head, Jesus moves aside the flaps of His overcoat to show that around His waist there are indeed no weapons.

“Alright,” you breathe, stepping back. “Come on in.”

“Thank you,” He says gratefully, and you give Him some space before pivoting to the furnace to check on the bread whilst Jesus takes off His sandals to wash His feet in the small bowl on the ground.

A few coughs sound from David’s bedroom and you give Jesus an apologetic look after shifting the bread for a bit to distribute the heat properly. “I hope You won’t mind my brother being ill. He might be a bit noisy tonight, but I care for him as much as I can.”

Jesus’ face falls into a worried frown as He stands in the middle of your house. There is something incredibly kind about His features.

“What does he have?”

You shrug. “I don’t know,” you say, “He’s been ill for a few weeks now… Coughing, throwing up, barely eating. He’s incredibly short of breath, too. I… It happened to my father too, before he passed away, so…” Sudden tears blur your vision but you blink them away, not wanting to cry in front of a total Stranger. “I fear the worst.”

Jesus chews the inside of His cheek and sighs. “I’m sorry to hear that. What is your name, by the way?”

Your face flushes. “Oh, I’m so sorry for not introducing myself. My name is (Y/n), and my brother is called David. We live here with just the two of us.”

Humming, Jesus gives you a slightly sad look. “That must be difficult.”

“We do our best to get by, but since David fell ill our income has dropped drastically.”

A short silence falls and you gesture to the small room in the house you call your own. “I… I can show You where You can stay tonight.” you tell Him, and he nods gratefully.

You enter the bedroom and light a candle to make it more livable. Jesus stands on the threshold whilst you quickly move around some of your belongings to create some space.

“I-I didn’t expect a guest, so forgive me for the mess. Here, You can sleep here.”

“Where will you sleep?” Jesus queries, clearly taken aback by the fact that you’ve assigned Him your own bed.

You give Him a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll create myself a little spot near the kitchen fire. I-I won’t sleep much, after all.”

“Are you sure? I can also take the kitchen floor, I don’t mind at all. You’ve been kind enough to let Me into your house, which is a risk on its own seeing that your brother is so sick, so I–”

“Nonsense,” you cut Him off, smiling genuinely, “You have a long day of travel ahead of You. I will not have to go anywhere tomorrow, so I can rest during the day, too.”

Jesus slips His bag off His shoulder and drops it onto your bed. “You are incredibly kind to Me, (Y/n). Thank you.”

You give Him a small bow of your head. “My eema raised me to be a good host. Now, I need to check up on the bread in the oven as well as my brother. Would You like a cut or two?”

With a small shake of His head, Jesus refuses. “I’ll be fine, I cannot take what precious little food you have left from you.”

Swallowing thickly, you freeze up as your brother calls your name again. “Excuse me.” you breathe before heading over to his room, where you find David sitting up straight in bed, clutching his chest. “Easy, keep breathing!”

You hold him for a while until he calms down again, and help him drink the rest of his water. “Lay back down,” you instruct your older sibling, “I will get you a refill.”

After you’ve brought him a full cup of water and bid him a good night as well as insisted on calling you if he needs your help, you head back to check on the fresh rye bread, finding it fully baked. Carefully, you take it out and put it down to cool for a few minutes, in the meantime quickly sweeping the floor to clean some space for a few pelts to sleep on.

Once you are satisfied, you cut two slices of bread and put them on a plate, adding a few pieces of cucumber on the side before heading over to the bedroom where your unexpected Guest is currently staying. Knocking on the door, you patiently await His answer.

“Come in.” says He. You push it open and find Him in a clean tunic, clearly ready for bed.

“Sorry to disturb you,” you apologetically tell Him, “But I cannot let you go to bed hungry after a long day of travelling. Here, take this. I insist.”

You put down the plate on the small table next to the bed and Jesus smiles at you gently, letting out a small chuckle. “That is very generous of you, (Y/n).”

“Adonai knows I should not let You get hungry, it would be improper of me.”

Jesus hums and takes the plate before breaking off a piece of bread and offering it to you. “Here, eat with me. It has been some time since I’ve eaten with a friend.”

You take it and watch how He breaks a piece off for Himself, saying blessings over it before you respond with “amen,” and the two of you take a bite of the fresh loaf, Jesus letting out a sound of appreciation. When you’ve swallowed your bite and He offers you another, you shake your head.

“No, thank You, I should really go to sleep now.”

Jesus nods and smiles, leaning closer to put His hand on your arm. Freezing in place as you had been about to turn away and bid Him a good night, your eyes widening as some kind of jolt seems to go through you at the contact, something you cannot put a word to.

“(Y/n),” Jesus speaks up with a serious edge to His voice, “You have been suffering for a long time, haven’t you? So much grief, and now your care for your brother. Even though you are convinced you’ll be left all alone once he passes away, you still keep going, and invite Me into your home. In spite of it, you are working so hard, trying your very best for everything, but in the long run you forget yourself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and avert your gaze. Who is this Man, Who seems to look right through you?

“(Y/n), I have been waiting ever since time began to tell you by name that you are loved by Me.” When your brow furrows in confusion, for you aren’t sure what He means with these words – yet they seem to pierce you nevertheless – Jesus clarifies: “These words may not yet make sense right now, but they will soon, I can promise you that. Just keep trusting in the Lord. Okay?”

You smile politely, nodding before standing up, dusting your hands down your apron. “Always, sir.”

“And… Thank you, (Y/n).” He says, “For everything. You did not have to invite Me into your house and yet you did. Have a good rest now.”

“I’ll try my best,” you say with a wry smile whilst another cough sounds through the thin walls, “Have a good evening, Jesus. Shalom shalom.”

“Shalom shalom.”

Exiting the room with an armful of pelts as well as a blanket, you sigh and make yourself a small bed on the floor before trying to get comfortable.

But as you had expected, no sleep comes to you that night. Tossing and turning on the hard and painful stone, plagued by aching positions as well as constant trips to David’s side, you barely manage to shut your eyes.

Halfway through the night, whilst soaking your brother’s forehead with cool water in the hopes of pushing down his fever, he gasps your name. “(Y/n),” he whispers, “Who is with us? Who were you talking to earlier?”

You had no idea that he had noticed, had assumed that he had slept through it, so you sigh in slight embarrassment that you had let a strange Man into the house without your brother’s permission, let alone allow Him to sleep in your own bed. “It is a traveller,” you state matter-of-factly, smiling at your sibling, “It’s nothing to worry about. He will leave early in the morning.”

“I cannot defend you if anything happens.”

“He seems like a kind Man,” you reassure him, “Go to sleep, David. Everything is fine.”

Although David is not keen on letting you near a complete stranger, the fever pulls him into a restless slumber regardless of how hard he tries to fight it. With a sad sigh, you wipe some sweat off his brow before exhaustedly dragging yourself back to your makeshift bed, where you fall asleep at last, whilst the first sunlight of the day already trickles in through the gap in the curtains.

You startle awake by a hand on your face, and your eyes shoot open in shock, your arm already swinging out at whoever is touching you. Stumbling to your feet, you turn sharply to the source of your rousing, and when your gaze finally focuses, sleep-deprived and bleary, you realise that it is your brother who is standing beside you.

“David?! What are you doing here?! Go back to bed! You should be asleep!”

Your brother lets out a laugh and leans forward to keep you from pushing him back towards the bedroom, a deep frown of confusion etched deep onto your face. “Calm down, (Y/n), I’m fine!”

“You’re not! You’re dying, just like abba who had the same symptoms days before he– Wait, what did you just say?”

It only hits you now, that David is seemingly healthy, with the colour back in his cheeks and looking not as tired. He gives you a sheepish grin as realisation floods you, and your confusion turns into shock. “What– How?”

“That Man Whom you let in!”

“Jesus?”

“Yes!” David laughs, “Him!”

Shaking your head in puzzlement, you attempt to gather your thoughts, but to no avail. “I don’t understand! Is He a doctor or something? He didn’t mention anything of the sort.”

David smiles and gives you an amused look. “I will explain it to you, okay? Just… Let me talk. Come on, let’s sit down.” He gestures towards the small wooden bench that usually serves as your dinner seat and you both get comfortable. Your brother takes your hands in his and smiles. “That Man,” he starts, “Came to me early in the morning, whilst you were still asleep. He thanked me for our hospitality and told me I have a very respectable and kindhearted sister.”

Your cheeks flush a little. “I only did what everyone else would do in this situation–”

“Well, they didn’t, but you did. I think neither of us have the idea of Who you have accepted into our house, but it is not just a Man. He put His hand on my head and prayed, and it was like…” He gestures towards his chest as if reliving the moment and a wide grin spreads over his features. “It was… (Y/n), I cannot describe it, but this Man healed me! I feel as healthy as ever, and even better than that!”

Your jaw falls open at the revelation, and still confused, you look around the house. “Where is He? I need to thank Him! I know that we don’t have money, but–”

David chuckles, shaking his head. “Jesus knew that, which is why He left before you woke up. He said that you’ve already helped Him greatly and that it says a lot about who you are as a person. And… He said something about the foxes having holes and the birds having nests, and that nobody would give the Son of Man a place to sleep last night except you, and that your reward will be great.”

All air leaves you as your face pales. “The Son of Man…” you whisper incredulously, “But that… That is a term used for…”

“(Y/n),” your brother suddenly says, staring at you. “If you helped out Who I think you just helped out…”

Your heart flutters inside your chest and drums there heavily when you overthink the possibility of just having helped out the promised Messiah.

And then it crashes down on you, what He had said about loving you, and your eyes blur with tears.

“If He is the One Who is to come…” you mutter shakily, “We are bound to hear more from Him, right?”

David slowly nods and smiles. You manage to keep back your tears, overcome with sudden determination instead.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

“What are you thinking?” you query.

Nodding at the door, David smirks. “He wants us to go somewhere?”

“Where to?”

“The Jordan River.”

You give your brother a look. “Are you suggesting we travel after Him?”

“He said that there is a man called John the Baptist, and He wants us to learn from him, because John will prepare us for something special.”

“Something special? Did He mention what?”

David answers with a shake of his head, but shrugs. “I think we must find out for ourselves.”

You take his hand in yours and grin from ear to ear, determination in your eyes, as if suddenly, everything clicks into place.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

Without questioning anything, the two of you rapidly pack a few tunics, ready to leave everything behind. After all, this second chance at life for David can simply not be met with indifference.

You’ll run into Him again one day, sooner than you think, and then, you can finally properly thank Him for His mercy.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #x reader #chosen x reader #angel studios #the chosen jesus #jesus x reader #jesus x you #platonic

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toonydoodles · 1 year

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i want to cement myself as a bona fide janner enjoyer + figure out how the heck this site works so here's a random sketch of him (plus all the references because i want you to look at him)

#wingfeather saga #janner wingfeather #janner igiby #angel studios #sketch #seriously what is tumblr help

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larckol · 7 months

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First post ehehe, drew ma boy Matthew a while back

#thechoosen #the chosen #matthew #jesus #angel studios #fanart #the chosen fanart #the chosen art #matthew the tax collector #christian art #art #my art #Christianity #christian #illistration #first post

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puppy--jam · 3 months

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Today is the day of premiere of The Chosen season 4. I am so excited! I'm going to the cinema to see first two episodes. I discovered The Chosen (TV series) through Tumblr. I want to thank the person who posted the scene of the paralyzed man being lowered from the roof to Jesus.

This series is amazing! I was watching previous seasons with all my family. I recommend The Chosen whether you are religious or not. This series is about our lives and problems, how religion affects non-believers and what believers think(when they have a problem, for example). [My mother cried with Eden when she lost her child. My mother also lost my sibling. She felt like Eden.]

Beside that Jesus, our Lord became human. And that's beautiful. This series shows that Jesus is God and also Man.

When Big James and John told Jesus to use fire from Heaven He first was shocked by that request and then He told them the point of His mission here. That were a God's words.

After this explanation Jesus "switch on" His human side.

(I think that) He was like fire? No locust? Darkness? Only fire from Heaven? And then He just chuckles. He was is truly a Man.

He even played with Lazarus friends (IDK who they were).

Once more I recommend The Chosen.

#the chosen #the chosen series #the chosen season 4 #jesus #jesus christ #jonatham roumie #big james #john #saint john #angel studios #god #holy trinity #the son of man

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the-dance-of-italy · 3 months

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What the fuck is going on???

Was he actually participating in the military or just having a vacation? Assuming he didn't join, if it secretly was just a vacation, the fact that they used him for israeli sympathy is still disgusting.

When I noticed his presence in the premiere something felt off. It's his fucking hair.

There's no way they could've let him join with his long ass hair. There's no way he grew it back so quickly in less than two months.

#boycott the chosen #the chosen #free palestine #free gaza #boycott the fuck out of this show you shouldn't let these bastards be successful #angel studios #boycott angel studios

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aceofstars16 · 1 year

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I had to group the brothers together because you can only have 10 options 😔✊

Feel free to reblog and say who your fave is in tags or replies (I might do one for the ladies too but I don’t know, we’ll see how this one goes, but thought it would be fun haha)

#the chosen #the chosen series #angel studios #polls #Christianity #Bible #I don’t know what to tag this as lol #I almost forgot Z and I feel so bad about that #but I am feeling a little under the weather so I blame that

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n64retro · 2 months

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Resident Evil 2 Angel Studios / Capcom Nintendo 64 1999

#resident evil 2 #angel studios #capcom #nintendo 64 #re2 #biohazard 2 #claire redfield #sherry birkin #zombies #survival horror #90s #N64

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moviemunchies · 19 days

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The director of Sound of Freedom (full disclosure: I haven’t seen that movie), which became the darling of A Very Right Wing Audience, made a movie starring a saint, the message of which is that the system is terrible to immigrants in the US, and you shouldn’t treat them like trash.

I have a lot of thoughts, guys.

Cabrini tells the story of Mother Saint Frances Cabrini, an Italian religious sister who wanted to start missionary orphanages in China and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. The Pope convinces her that she start working in the West, first–specifically in New York City, where Italian immigrants live in slums and are shunned by the populace, including the local diocese’s administration. Undaunted, Mother Cabrini charges forward to build her orphanage, whether or not she’ll get support from the city, the press, or the Church.

I kind of want to talk about the critical conversation that surrounded this movie.

Obviously, a film featuring a saint as its protagonist will get attention from Catholic outlets, and that’s where I saw most of the reviews. There was a noticeable common thread among Catholic critics that even though it’s about a canonized saint, a religious sister, and the character’s explicitly Catholic in the movie, her faith is not explored as her motivation, and it doesn’t really emphasize God working through her. We Catholics do not believe that we accomplish holy tasks based on our own power–we do it through God’s grace.

This movie, on the other hand, understandably makes it so that Mother Cabrini is the prime mover of events, though she certainly does have faith. But for Catholics, her reverence for God should be more emphasized, and her crediting and trusting in Him should be more explicit. I understand that in order to make it appeal to a wider (if still primarily Christian) audience, this was toned down, though I don’t know if it was the best idea.

My family and I also noted, while watching the film, that Frances Cabrini’s backstory is not really explored in a comprehensive way. Okay, fine, the movie’s not about that, and there’s enough to go off of. What’s a little more frustrating is that the sisters she leads in her efforts at building an orphanage are… look, I don’t know if they even have names in the film. I don’t remember much about them, other than that they’re there to back up the main character.

There are, however, not-so-legitimate criticisms I’ve seen. The Pillar talked a bit about it in one of their posts, but did not go into a full review because their writers are reporters of Catholic news (and they do very good work on that front, being unafraid of talking about scandal and asking hard questions). The opinion of the editor there was that, along with the above criticism, the antagonists were caricatures of patriarchal corruption, being essentially douchey men, which he felt was putting all the problems faced by the characters on men.

Which… yeah, because she’s running up against corrupt or uncaring systems and institutions, which at the time are all run… by men.

Maybe this is because I recently read Burn It Down, but taking issue with this feels like missing the point of the movie. You can say all you want that the systems in place aren’t just the fault of some men in charge, but those men in charge hold a lot of responsibility. Immigrants aren’t suffering in the US because the system has to be that way, they’re because people in charge choose to make or keep it that way to benefit themselves. The movie simplifies how these systems work, yes, but that doesn’t change that depicting them as the result of prejudiced, greedy, and corrupt men is not a bad choice.

Like, imagine if someone complained that Hidden Figures uses caricatures that are too simple for the reality of what happened. Yeah, that’s true, and there are definite issues with those depictions, but is it wrong to do that in a movie? I don’t think so.

[And then at least one person in the comments of that post angrily claims this movie constitutes “militant feminism” which makes me see red. Do words even have meaning these days? I feel like every time a film with female leads has a douchey male villain, some whackjob claims that it’s a story asserting that all men are evil.]

If the figures depicted in the movie actually were generally alright people, and the film is villainizing real people unnecessarily, then yes, we have some problems. Otherwise, I’m fine with it.

I am also kind of stunned how much this movie comes out swinging on certain issues. Again, the director’s previous film was a movie that got a lot of attention from right wing media, and this is one that depicts things like racism against immigrants, police brutality, political corruption–things that I don’t think FOX News is as keen on talking about. I think audiences cared enough about it for this movie to be mildly successful, though, which shows that, thankfully, people aren’t on as strictly drawn socio-political lines as the media would have you believe.

This is a fairly powerful narrative, guys, and it does not hold back. There are wealthy (white) New Yorkers complaining about how “brown children” are running through their streets, people denigrating others for not speaking English, and pointing out that the people oppressing immigrants today are the descendants of immigrants who themselves went through oppression when they arrived.

I like that the movie does not flinch away from that: showing that many of the problems we face today are not new, they’ve been baked into this country for over a century. The problems just wear slightly different hats–who the immigrants being oppressed are, for instance. That doesn’t mean it’s a progressive masterpiece, but I like this direction.

And I really like the title character. She is someone who absolutely does not give up, but is constantly getting frustrated by the people around her underestimating what she’s trying to do and whether she can accomplish it. She knows that she can, the problem is getting other people to see that as well.

Also, the movie’s last line. I’m very fond of it.

But like I said, this movie doesn’t really feel like it’s that interested in the lives of those who served in Mother Cabrini’s religious order, or much of her life and interests. And that’s a definite failing of the movie. Overall, though, I think it’s good, it’s strong, and I think it sticks with you. I lament a bit that it’s not more Catholic, and it could have been. I don’t think it’s necessarily as good a movie about historical figures as something like Hidden Figures, but it is very good, and I encourage people to at least check it out.

#Cabrini #Movie Munchies #Angel Studios #reviews #saints

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 4 months

Text

Matthew | There Is Something Behind Your Eyes | Platonic

Requested: Yes

Matthew is convinced that the stranger at his booth must be an angel.

One, two, three.

Matthew turns his key three times.

Maybe a fourth time for good measure? No, he decides against it. After all, he has to catch the cart driver lest he arrive too late and has to walk all the way to the other side of the village. He cannot risk it.

He gulps in disgust as a few rats scurry barely past his feet. Pressing the rag clutched in his hand against his nose, he tries to block out the smell.

Everything inside of him has been on edge lately. He cannot put any words nor reason to the odd and unfamiliar feeling, but it is there, and he is not sure what to make of it. For now, he blames it on the current dynamic within the fishing village of Capernaum. Things are tense and uneasy, as if something massive is about to go down.

Matthew remembers the riot around here about a year ago, and hopes that this time around it will be extinguished before it can break loose. After all, he left the last revolt against the Romans unscathed, but this time around, he cannot be so certain.

“You there, public-anus!” The man with the cart Matthew has made an arrangement with already stands waiting for him just outside the street near his house. Attempting to not retch at the stench of sheep dung, Matthew approaches him slowly, trying to keep his sandals clean to his best ability. “Hurry up and get in!”

Matthew does not correct the wrong pronunciation of his professional title, instead hops inside the cart with uncharacteristic haste. He does not want to risk being seen, even if it means potentially getting his expensive garment stuck on any rusty nails in the process. He pulls over the cover, laying down inside the hay that the salesman transports in spite of its dampness. Once down, Matthew feels the cart shift into motion. Neither of them speak to one another whilst the tax-collector watches the street underneath him through a gap between the planks on the bottom, the sound of squeaking wheels filling his ears.

Perhaps he could ask Gaius to become his daily escort, Matthew wonders. If his calculations are correct, people wouldn’t even try to bother him while he is on his way to work, then.

Suddenly, the cart halts - halfway through the journey, Matthew knows - right before the market square. “Get out!” the merchant hisses at him, “I can’t be seen with you. I need to drop off my goods here and I cannot take the risk!”

Matthew is momentarily blinded by the sunlight as the man lifts up the cover. “Out, taxman!”

“I-If you want to take risk into consideration, I’d say that there would be more of a risk of you being caught if I were to get out here rather than if you were to bring me directly to the booth–”

“I don’t want to hear it! Out!”

Apprehensively, Matthew exits the wagon and pulls up his shoulders, making himself as invisible as he can. His cream-coloured tunic makes it difficult to miss him. He stands out like a sore thumb. If the tax-collector wanted to remain unseen, he should have picked a different outfit.

An impatient palm appears in his field of vision, and Matthew fishes a leather pouch of money from the satchel on his hip. He pulls it open and counts the money inside, taking out a few denarii, then counting on his fingers, eyes lifted up in thought.

“What are you doing?” the merchant queries.

“Counting how much I owe you. Technically, you brought me about halfway through the village, so that is half the amount agreed upon. However, when taking into consideration the liability that I will now have to undergo due to me having to travel further on foot, I will have to withhold about twenty percent of the amount owed–”

“Just give it to me!” the man snaps, grabbing the pouch of money from his hand before Matthew can realise it, “You’re costing me money as you speak. Consider the extra as collateral due to the risk of being seen with you.”

Matthew opens his mouth to protest, but he is not intimidating enough for the merchant to not just walk away with his cart. Knowing that fighting it will make things even worse, Matthew sighs and lets it go, thinking about the safest route to take through the city in order to be exposed to the public eye as briefly as possible.

Once the transaction has been made, the man grunts and walks off with his cart, muttering under his breath that this was the final time they’ve done business. Matthew tilts his head slightly and calculates the best direction to go into to avoid conflict before starting his trek towards the booth.

He ignores the scornful glares sent his way; after all, he is so used to it at this point that he’d be more taken aback by actual kindness. Gaius is already waiting for him, his usual scowl on his face, as if he doesn’t want to be here. Perhaps that the Primi Ordines doesn’t necessarily like guard duty in a place of such regular unrest.

Matthew greets him with a short mumble and enters his booth, laying out his necessary tools in front of him. Everything has its own place, and he enjoys the feeling of a tidy desk. It’s one of the few things he can control at all times, and Matthew takes great pride in keeping it clean.

The morning goes on as usual, with occasional displeasure from tax-payers as well as tears streaming down pockmarked, hollow faces, but Matthew stoically goes through with it. The sun is past its highest point when it becomes a little more bearable in the booth, and Gaius leans against the wall, sighing as he eats an apple. Matthew vaguely remembers the Primi mentioning that the change of guard was coming up soon, but the publicanus wasn’t sure how long ago he had said it.

The amount of customers is declining as the day carries on, most people heading to their homes to prepare for Shabbat instead. It gives Matthew a rare moment of peace and quiet in his booth, and he takes some time to sort out his ledger, checking for any errors in the calculations and–

“Shalom.”

Matthew startles a bit at the sudden voice and looks up. A young woman about his own age stands in front of the booth, a kind smile on her face. Her (e/c) eyes slightly glitter as she watches him curiously.

“Sh-Shalom.” Matthew stutters, putting his current chore aside. “How may I help you?” He doesn’t recognise you from around here.

“Just here to have a chat.”

Matthew grabs his ledger. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” you introduce yourself, and tell him where you are from. “So no, I don’t have any open debts to pay you.”

The way you’re looking up at him is not very familiar to him. There is a gentle expression on your face, and he isn’t sure what to make of it.

“Then what do you want?” Matthew wants to know.

“You’re Jewish, right?” you query.

Matthew nods, looking at Gaius from the corner of his eye. The Primi doesn’t seem to mind your presence, instead gazing out over the empty streets, unbothered by the conversation going on right beside him.

“I am.”

“So, what are you doing here?” you ask.

There is no accusation nor malice in your voice, a tone regarding his profession that is quite new to Matthew.

“My-My job.” he mutters, “If I can’t help you with your taxes, I’d like to wish you a good day.”

You let out a hum and watch him curiously. “Shouldn’t you be home, preparing for Shabbat? It’s almost sundown…”

“I… Don’t. I-I think you should go, though… Otherwise, you won’t be home in time, either.”

Your smile is soft. “Don’t you worry about me, now. You haven’t told me your name yet.”

“That’s not important–”

“Matthew–” Gaius pipes up, “Can you get her to hurry? That change of guard is apparently not happening and I am really in need of a break, so I want to close up this booth for a while.”

Matthew sighs and you hum. “Matthew, huh? Don’t worry, Primi, I’ll be here just for another minute or so.” You turn back to the tax-collector.

“Listen, Matthew, I know a lot of people loathe you and shame you for the work you do. You chose to work for the Romans, so part of their indignation is justified. However, I crossed past your booth and was overcome with the conviction to share something with you today. A word.”

“A word?” Matthew looks at you a bit puzzled.

You hum in agreement. “I’m with this group of people. With a Rabbi. I think you’ve heard about Him, too, haven’t you? I can feel that you have.”

Matthew feels his throat run dry - yes, now he faintly recognises you walking alongside the followers of this infamous Rabbi. He had indeed heard about Him causing quite the stir, but he had never investigated it.

“What about it?” He tries to sound indifferent, but something wavers in his voice. You give him a kind smile and reach out through the gap in the booth. You do not touch him, but lay your hand close to him. Gaius eyes you a bit suspiciously, but when Matthew does not display any sign that you’re assaulting him in any way, he looks away again.

“I think Jesus is going to call you out of the darkness and into the light.” you whisper. “That is His name, by the way. The name of my Rabbi.”

For a few moments, Matthew rapidly blinks, staring at you dumbfounded. “What do you mean by that?”

“Because whenever we pass by this booth while in town, I get this feeling inside my heart to come over and talk to you. One of the other followers always hisses something under his breath about you, but I think it’s not totally justified. Sure, you’ve chosen this profession and thus betrayed our people by working for our oppressors, but…” your smile grows a bit, “I think you’re more than that.”

Matthew feels his face heat up slightly with a hint of shame. Why are you being so kind to him without even knowing who he is? Even though the sole thing you know about him is that he betrayed your people?

“I think you feel that sentiment towards me just because you’re not from around here. I suggest you leave me alone and go to pay your taxes in your own county.” Matthew moves away, but you lean a little closer.

“Matthew,” you pipe up, “Why do you think I’m meeting you here minutes before Shabbat? I am here for a reason, and I need you to know this. If… If you choose to follow Him one day, because I am convinced that He will call you one day or another… You will need a friend, someone to stick up for you. Know that I’ll be that person.”

Abashed, he shakes his head. “I don’t have friends and I don’t need them, either.”

The smile that grows on your face is nothing short of angelic.

“And yet, the offer still stands. Just had to let you know, okay?” You look at the sky, thinking for a long moment. “If I want to be at my friend Mary’s place before sundown, I’ll have to go now. Shalom shalom, Matthew. I have a feeling we’ll see one another soon.”

At a loss for words, Matthew replies a soft “Shalom,” as you give him a friendly nod and walk off, and he leans closer to the iron bars to keep watching you until you disappear behind the corner.

“Well,” Gaius huffs, “Believe it or not, I think that’s the nicest way I’ve ever seen someone talk to you.”

Matthew does not reply, instead stands in silence, his mind racing with questions.

A few weeks later, Matthew is standing in his booth, going about his day, when a familiar group of people enters his field of vision as they pass by. A few wisps of (h/c) hair draw his attention and you look over your shoulder, making eye-contact with him.

As soon as Jesus halts, a smile forms over your lips. Matthew tears his gaze away from you to settle it on the Rabbi, Who looks at him with a determined look on His face.

“Matthew, son of Alphaeus.”

Matthew blinks, wondering for a second if there is another person with the exact same name standing right behind him, and he leans closer. Your eyes glitter as you gaze at Jesus, and then back at the tax-collector in the booth.

“Yes?” he breathes.

“Follow Me.”

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #x reader #chosen x reader #angel studios #the chosen matthew #the chosen matthew x reader #matthew x reader

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