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Aleksander Constantinoropolous's avatar

This is the kind of liturgy that doesn’t just name the sacred—it embodies it.

Your words braid together the fire and the dew, the protector and the bloom. I was especially struck by the line: “Your fierce love protects your vulnerable heart. Your vulnerable heart keeps your fierce love from becoming mere aggression.” That’s the Pentecost I just prayed for—the one that doesn’t burn to impress, but to heal.

I wrote a Prayer for Victory Over the Scourge of Christian Nationalism recently, and your meditation feels like its gentle twin: not just resistance, but deep restoration. Not the hype, but the hum. Not either/or—but warrior and flower.

Thank you for offering a path where strength and softness don’t cancel each other—they consecrate each other.

Virgin Monk Boy

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