Podcasts about father peter

Opening BanterHosts discuss their busy week, humorously referencing comedians Jim Gaffigan and Dane Cook about the chaos of parenting.Easter season is highlighted as a joyful but busy time.Transition to Office LifeDiscussion about returning to office work after a period of working from home.One host shares the challenges of balancing work with family life, especially with six young children and homeschooling demands.The other host enjoys a unique office setup with fellow Catholic businessmen, allowing for faith-based discussions and idea-sharing.Business and Catholic PrinciplesHosts explore how secular business podcasts often unknowingly adopt Catholic virtues like prudence and wisdom.Advice from a business perspective: surround yourself with the right people to change your life, and prioritize who you work with over the job itself.Reflecting on early career lessons:Taking risks is crucial for success.Money isn't everything once basic needs are met; pursuing it excessively can lead to disordered priorities.Hard work is valuable but ineffective if not directed toward the right goals.Pilgrimage PromotionPromotion of Select International Tours, a long-time sponsor offering pilgrimages to holy sites worldwide.Visit selectinternationaltours.com for details.High Levels of Manliness WarningA humorous callback to early episodes, warning listeners about the "high levels of manliness" on the show.Remembering Pope FrancisHosts reflect on Pope Francis' passing:Personal memory: Pope Francis kissing one host's daughter in 2015.Notable moments: His global benediction during COVID and the phrase "shepherds need to smell like sheep."Speculation about the timeline for electing a new pope, with a nod to historical conclave delays.Eucharistic Miracle StoryStory of Father Peter of Prague, a 13th-century German priest who doubted the Real Presence.During Mass in Bolsena, Italy, the host bled, leading to the establishment of the Feast of Corpus Christi by Pope Urban IV.St. Thomas Aquinas composed hymns like Tantum Ergo and Pange Lingua for the feast.The miraculous host is preserved in Orvieto, which the hosts will visit on their October pilgrimage with listeners.Spiritual Insights from Solid Virtue by Father BalakiusDiscussion of Solid Virtue by Jesuit priest Father Balakius, published by Coresu Press.Recollection:Defined as watchfulness and awareness of God's presence, akin to an "earthly heaven."Benefits: Prevents sin, reduces weariness, and fosters joy in God's love.Three sources: solitude, silence, and avoiding news (to curb curiosity and anxiety).Particular Examine:Focuses on identifying and addressing the root cause of faults, not just external behaviors.Analogous to treating the cause of a disease, not just symptoms.Requires self-knowledge, possibly aided by friends, a spouse, or spiritual direction.After correcting major faults, shift to perfecting daily actions and cultivating virtues.Spiritual Warfare:Involves a firm resolution to amend faults, renewed twice daily (morning and noon).Resolutions should be short-term (half-day increments) to avoid discouragement.Twice-daily examination of conscience (noon and evening) to track progress.Keep a log of faults to compare daily and weekly progress, ensuring empirical improvement.Practical ApplicationsHosts emphasize the practicality of Balakius' advice, comparing it to business...

Deacon Dan Diesel proclaims the Gospel (John 20:18-31) and special guest Father Peter Prusakiewicz breaks open the word on Sunday of Divine Mercy. Father Peter, a Michaelite Father, has dedicated his life to spreading God's love and the message of Divine Mercy to people around the world. Raised in Poland, Father Peter is part of the Congregation of St. Michael the Archangel. Words for your Way from Santiago de Compostela Catholic Church in Lake Forest, California. 

Ahead of Pope Francis’s funeral this Saturday, Father Peter Hollins of St Laurence's Catholic Church in Petersfield speaks of their shock and sadness and the arrangements local churches have made for the Catholic community. Father Hollins speaks to Mike Waddington about his impressions of Pope Francis and what they would like to see continue when the new Pope is elected. Father Hollins said that the last meeting of PACT - Petersfield Area Churches Together - expressed their own sadness and reflected on his life and death. .See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Father Peter, Moment of Peace, Bishop Barron, Hallelujah, Rush Limbaugh, conclusionBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-true-conservative--2039343/support.

Father Peter, Annie Parthene, Bishop Barron, Templar Hymn, Rush Limbaugh, conclusionBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-true-conservative--2039343/support.

Works to demolish the east stand at the Victoria Stadium have started today. This forms part of the groundwork for the construction of a UEFA-approved, category 4 stadium. The works are highly complex and have required close co-ordination with the MOD, to minimise any impact on the runway. We spoke to Ros Astengo who was at the site.The Justice Minister moves to further protect police officers and emergency workers with stricter penalties for assaults against them. We also got an update from Nigel Feetham on whether the EU might take Gibraltar off its grey list.It's Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent, 40 days of prayer, fasting, and reflection for Christians. Claire Hernandez was at the Cathedral of St Mary the Crowned and spoke to Father Peter.The new location for the Community Mental Health facility will be announced on the week starting on the 17th March. This was confirmed by Health Minister Gemma Arias Vasquez at last night's GHA public meeting at the University of Gibraltar. Our reporter Jonathan Sacramento was at the meeting yesterday evening. We are midway through Gibraltar Hearing loss week. This year's theme is ‘empower yourself!' - building on 2024's focus on changing mindsets towards hearing and ear care. Edgar Triay of Gibraltar's association for Hearing Issues and Tinnitus told us more.And, time flies! It's Gibraltar Today's second birthday. We took the opportunity meet some of the team that help bring the show on our airways and screens: broadcast assistant Kathy Sanchez, engineers Charlie Moore and John Balestrino as well as CEO James Neish. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar, shares a homily during the Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on February 23, 2025. 

Father Peter McVerry has resigned from his post as board secretary of the Peter McVerry Trust, a position he has held since 1983. Shane spoke Father Peter McVerry this morning on the show.

Father Peter McVerry has resigned from his post as board secretary of the Peter McVerry Trust, a position he has held since 1983. Shane spoke Father Peter McVerry this morning on the show.

Father Peter Heers is back on the show, and we are discussing the themes in the book, "On the Reception of the Heterodox Into the Orthodox Church", published by Uncut Mountain Press. There are some converts to Orthodoxy who want to be baptized into the Church, yet they are told their previous baptism was just fine, so they only need Chrismation. Is this the view of the Church Fathers? What is the exception? Is this done in a manner that is consistent with the Saints and the Patrisitc writings? Is baptism necessary for our salvation? We get into all of these questions and more. Fr. Peter is the founder and current head of Uncut Mountain Press (founded in 2000), the founder and head of The Orthodox Ethos, and the founder and first editor of "Divine Ascent, A Journal of Orthodox Faith" (begun in 1995). Fr. Peter was also the host of the podcast, Postcards from Greece. For his work, please visit: Donate to the show here:   Visit my website:   Audio Production by Podsworth Media:   Leave us a review and rating on iTunes! Thanks!

Ken talks with Matthew Wiseman “The Two Jerusalems: My Conversion from the Messianic Movement to the Catholic Church” (Ignatius Press) and Father Peter Armenio “Highlights of the Catholic Faith” (Midwest Theological Forum/Scepter Publishers). Matthew's book available at: https://ignatius.com/two-jerusalems-tjp/ And Father Armenio's at: https://scepterpublishers.org/products/highlights-of-the-catholic-faith?_pos=1&_sid=e9794e325&_ss=r L'articolo Meet the Author with Ken Huck – January 2, 2025 –  Matthew Wiseman “The Two Jerusalems: My Conversion from the Messianic Movement to the Catholic Church” and Father Peter Armenio “Highlights of the Catholic Faith”  proviene da Radio Maria.

15/12 - Name Above All Names (Is 9:6)- Everlasting Father - Peter Connor by mccmedia

What happens when a promising tennis career transitions into the world of acting through an unexpected encounter? Join us as we share the extraordinary story of Andy Davoli, an Italian-American actor whose journey from Syracuse, New York to California was marked by resilience, creativity, and faith. His story is a testament to the power of pursuing one's passions and navigating life's challenges with a deep spiritual foundation.Andy opens up about how a chance meeting with Father Peter at Villanova University changed his life's direction from tennis to acting, igniting a fire that was fueled by family support and a rich creative upbringing. Listen as Andy describes the role of faith in his life, providing strength through personal losses and the courage to embrace unexpected opportunities. He candidly shares the complexities of balancing a career in acting with personal beliefs, drawing insight from both non-denominational teachings and a return to Catholic traditions.Throughout our conversation, Andy reflects on the transformative power of storytelling and spiritual practices in healing and personal growth. From the solace found in sacred spaces after the loss of loved ones to the renewal of faith during the pandemic, Andy's journey is a reminder of the enduring nature of faith as a source of strength and renewal. His experiences with confession and spiritual reconnection offer a compelling perspective on finding peace and purpose amidst life's struggles, inspiring listeners to embrace their own paths of personal and spiritual discovery.Send us a textBeyond The BeaconJoin Bishop Kevin Sweeney for inspired interviews with Christians living out their faith!Listen on: Apple Podcasts SpotifySupport the showVisit our website: www.yescatholic.comSupport the mission: www.yescatholic.com/supportthemissionFollow us on Instagram: www.instagram.com/yes.catholic

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar, shares a homily during the First Sunday of Advent. It was given in the Basilica on December 1, 2024. 

Not your common profession.  Father Peter Haugen decided before he graduated high school that he was going to become a priest in the Ukranian Orthodox Church of Canada.  Since being ordained, Peter and his wife had a short stay on Vancouver Island before taking the position he has here in St Paul where he and his wife have made a home to raise their family.  Yes, in the Ukranian Orthodox Church, a priest can have a wife and kids!  Father Peter answers questions like that and more all on this episode!

Peter Davidson was exposed to cultural Christianity while growing up, but it never meant much. He lost his parents as a child and his future prospects appeared bleak, until God came looking for him and revealed to Peter who his “True Father” was. Show notes @ https://compelledpodcast.com/episodes/peter-davidson ++++++++++++ Compelled is a seasonal podcast using gripping, immersive storytelling to celebrate the powerful ways God is transforming Christians around the world. These Christian testimonies are raw, true, and powerful. Be encouraged and let your faith be strengthened! Want to help make new episodes? Either make a one-time gift, or become a Monthly Partner at: https://compelledpodcast.com/donate Perks of being a Monthly Partner include: EARLY ACCESS to each new Compelled episode 1 week early! FULL LIBRARY of our unedited, behind-the-scenes interviews with each guest... over 100+ hours of additional stories and takeaways! Become a Monthly Partner by selecting the "Monthly" option during check-out.  Show notes, emails, and more at: https://compelledpodcast.com Compelled is a member of the Proclaim Podcast Network: https://proclaim.fm Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar, shares a homily during the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on October 13, 2024. 

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar, offers a reflection on the Third Glorious Mystery of the Rosary, the Descent of the Holy Spirit, for our Communal First Saturday for October. It was recorded on October 5, 2024. 

Father Peter Clem , a parochial vicar, shares a homily during the 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on August 25, 2024. 

In this interview, MK Coolican, Ethan Silva, and David Szczepanski talk with Father Peter Donohue about the upcoming semester, his favorite parts of campus, and advice for incoming freshman.

My guest today is the founder of OrthodoxEthos.com, Father Peter Heers. I am blessed to be able to head over to Mt. Athos as part of a pilgrimage with Fr. Peter. In this episode, we discuss what Mt. Athos is, what it has meant and continues to mean to the Church, what our trip will be like, and more. Fr. Peter has been to Mt. Athos more times than we can recount, and he gives us a deep dive on the beauty and wonders of one of the most sacred places on the planet. Sponsors: Expat Money Summit:   Ludwell Orthodox Fellowship:  - 2024 Conference Details  Donate to the show here: Visit my website:  Audio Production by Podsworth Media: Leave us a review and rating on iTunes! Thanks!

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on July 14, 2024. 

Father Jimmy Fights his carnal desires.By GrushaVashnadze. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. "Oh yeah, cunt!" he muttered under his breath."Yeah, hot fucking cunt!" he continued, ogling the juicy specimen of beauty displaying herself to his lustful eyes. Her pussy was indeed beautiful -- pink and delicate, with a finely-crafted blond landing-strip, held open by a pair of painted fingers, so that he could gaze into its hot, wet, steamy depths. He stroked his cock in anticipation, feeling his shaft stiffen and grow, and feeling that exquisite yearning sensation spread outwards, filling his body with testosterone-fuelled bliss.The owner of said cunt looked at him seductively, the tip of her tongue gently tracing the outline of her lips, her eyes cheekily inviting, one hand kneading her huge, perfect, surgically-enhanced breasts, as the other continued to hold her fuck-lips wide."Oh, yeah, baby, I'm gonna fuck that cunt so hard," he continued. "I'm gonna ram my fucking cock deep in your hot pussy, I'm gonna feel your juicy cunt around my cock, and then I'm gonna fucking come inside you, I'm gonna spurt all my fucking cum deep in your hot fuck-hole till you scream in pleasure. You want that, baby, you want that?"But there was no answer from the buxom blonde beauty. For she was but a centrefold in a magazine, lying open before him on his bed. One picture among many, actually, for his eiderdown was covered with a selection of his collected periodicals, open to his favourite pages, featuring a variety of nude beauties, all displaying themselves -- he liked to think -- purely for his pleasure.His cock throbbed as he stroked it, thumb and two fingers gently rubbing the glans while the palm of his hand wrapped itself around the shaft. He admired his carefully-ordered "cunt collage" -- as he liked to call it. The buxom blond ("Jenny", according to the caption) occupied pride of place in the centre of his bed. Surrounding her were half a dozen other centrefolds: "Sabrina" -- dark-haired, with huge natural flowing boobs, left hand holding her pussy open whilst one delicate finger of the right curled knuckle-deep into her arsehole; "Brea" -- blonde and skinny, with pert breasts, irresistibly smouldering eyes, and a shaven pussy; "Elsa" -- bleached blond hair, sweet "next-door-girl" smile, hairy blonde cunt with -- "oh fuck!" he muttered, as he felt his cock twitch and jerk in delight -- gorgeous flappy cunt-lips which dangled, glistening with little beads of pussy-juice...He paused his cock-stroking, looking away and upwards at the ceiling, in order to calm himself down: he didn't want to come too soon. Not yet.Just in time, the phone rang. Nervously he scrabbled for the receiver."Hi Jimmyyy!" came the sultry voice he was expecting. "It's Bea here, wiv yer fantasy call.""Bea, how are you?""Oh, Jimmy, I'm feeling so fuckin' horny this evening, I'm been so looking forward to our call.""Talk to me, Bea," said Jimmy, as he resumed slowly massaging his dick."Oh, you know me, Jimmy, I just can't get enough fuckin'. I'm sitting here on my bed, and I'm wearin' this skimpy negligee, and I've shaved my pussy just for you -- and it's so fuckin' wet, Jimmy, I just can't wait for you to ram yer big cock in there. D'ya wanna do that, Jimmyyy?" Bea's voice was warm and breathy -- something she had practised and honed over the months she had been calling him. Jimmy knew that, these days, he could instead be watching a video online, or a camgirl -- but he was a man of habit and tradition, and he loved the way things used to be when he was younger, when porn was always magazines, and audio invariably meant the telephone. And so he sat at the head of his bed, stroking his cock, listening to Bea's breathy seductive personalised filth, whilst he continued to ogle his favourite magazine nudes.As Bea spoke, his eyes continued to roam the pages spread open on the bed: "Codi" -- a ridiculously slender blonde with big fake tits, pouting lips drooling slightly at the sight of her own shaven cunt, spread wide with two delicate hands; "Emma" -- on all fours, so her pussy peeped cheekily out from between her buttocks, crowned by a tight puckered arsehole...Bea was very good too: she knew, after some six months of weekly Friday evening calls to Jimmy, just how he liked it. Jimmy wasn't interested in toys, or blowjobs, or titfucks, or anal, or any other kinks. He liked cunt. He loved cunt. And he adored it when Bea talked cunt: "Jimmyyy..." she breathed, "my pussy's feelin' so hot tonight. Will ya put yer dick in there, Jimmyyy?""It's all for you, Bea," muttered Jimmy, in a half-hearted attempt to play along with the fantasy. Actually, he wasn't much interested in the role-play aspect of things: it was, after all, pure fakery -- but he liked hearing Bea talk dirty, and so he said the minimum required to let her know that she was on the right track, and then revelled in the glorious obscenity of her wall-to-wall aural filth."Oh yeah, that feels so fucking good!" she lied. "Your cock's so fuckin' hard, Jimmy -- I can feel it deep in my cunt, fillin' me up. Go on, Jimmy, slide that huge fuckin' cock in and out of my wet cunt; can ya feel my pussy all hot and juicy for ya?" Jimmy listened, his eyes roving across the collage spread out on the bed before him, imagining what Bea's cunt might be like. Deliberately, he had never asked her, preferring to make it a new cunt each week: last week's choice had been "Cecilia" -- black, shaven, lips teased apart just enough to reveal her juicy pink haven inside; this week, it would be "Jenny".Jimmy loved Bea's voice -- "chavvy South London", he called it, oozing squalor; in his more lucid moments he imagined her as a single mum on the dole in some squalid high-rise council flat in Tooting -- a ne'er-do-well scraping together a living using the only pathetic skill she had. But now she was his tart, his whore, his plaything, his fantasy: she could be anything and everything he imagined. He liked playing this game, as he continued to stroke his dick to ecstasy whilst revelling in Bea's increasingly filthy ongoing monologue. Bea, for her part, was the consummate professional, sensing from Jimmy's pants and grunts just how far he was on his journey to release. And when Jimmy muttered, "Say my favourite things, Bea," she knew just what he meant."You know, Jimmy, I'm a dir'y, filfy, cuntfuckin' whore... That's what I am, Jimmy -- just a cuntfuckin' whore." Jimmy loved those words, and Bea's grimy accent was the icing on the cake: his cock jerked and bucked in response, stiffening even further. "I'm a whore, Jimmyyy. And you like dir'y fuckin' whores, don'tcha? You wanna fuck my filfy cunt wiv 'at big cock?" Jimmy was in ecstasy.Soon Bea had progressed to "My cunt's so fuckin' wet, Jimmy: that's what you do to me, babe. You're gonna make me fuckin' come, Jimmy, 'coz I'm a dir'y, filfy, cuntfuckin' whore, and I'm gonna fuckin' come all over your big cock!" Jimmy took the cue, fixing his eyes on "Jenny's" pussy -- still, of course, reliably wide open and glistening for him -- drinking in its beauty, and gradually ramping up the rhythm of his stroking so as to time his own orgasm to match Bea's ersatz one. And when Bea got to "I'm gonna fuckin' come, Jimmy, here it is baby, come all over ya dir'y filfy cuntfuckin' whore -- oh yeah oh FUUUUUCK!!!" Jimmy did exactly that. He felt the tell-tale boiling sensation in his balls, felt his cum surge and rise through his shaft and explode from his bucking, twitching cockhead."Jenny" was the chosen recipient of Jimmy's cum this evening, six or seven thick ropes of semen splattering over her picture. Jimmy aimed at her cunt, and watched as the likeness of her vulva disappeared under a gloopy coating of semen. Bea was continuing to moan and squeal down the telephone line: "Oh yeah, Jimmy, are ya comin' for me? Does 'at feel good, babe?" as the last few dribbles of sperm landed on "Jenny's" tits and face."Was 'at nice, Jimmyyy?" breathed Bea in her customary breathy tones. "D'ya like comin' in my dir'y hot cunt, Jimmyyy?"Jimmy panted incoherently in reply, his imagination desperately clinging on as long as he could to the illusion of sexual fulfillment. But it was always too short-lived. Even before his cock was flaccid, the illusion was fading and Bea was in business mode: "Same time next week still good for ya, babe? Take it off yer card, yeah?"Jimmy muttered a "Yeah, thanks, Bea," before hanging up and surveying the mess. It never looked as good afterwards as he hoped it would before. Sperm-soiled magazine "Jenny" looked, frankly, ridiculous and tawdry now -- a far cry from the seductive perfection she had exuded when pristine on the page. And wrapping up and disposing of semen-soaked magazine pages was anything but sexy. But Jimmy did so with his customary goal-oriented efficiency, trying to -- and largely succeeding in -- staunching his creeping feeling of shame, until the job was done, his penis was wiped clean, and he had put on his clothes again.Then his collar.And then his cassock.And then Father James Wright knelt on the floor of his bedroom and wept bitterly.~~~~~"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host -- by the Divine Power of God -- cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits, who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of... oh fuck..."Father Jim's voice tailed off. He had performed his morning ablutions, had his breakfast, and said his Office, and was preparing himself by examination of conscience for his weekly two-birds-with-one-stone excursion to the Cathedral -- first to confession, followed by his weekly exorcism training seminar. He usually dressed in civvies for these visits, not wanting to draw attention to himself on public transport -- but he never missed his hebdomadal chance to unburden his soul, and timing it for Saturday mornings made sense. Apart from anything else, this way, he felt less guilty saying the Eucharist over the weekend than if he were to have his Friday evening sins hanging on his conscience.But this morning Father Jim's voice gave up mid-supplication, as the thought impinged upon his intercessions:Am I a hypocrite? Actually, this was a thought which frequently went through his mind. The answer, of course, was yes: regularly, deliberately, and with full foreknowledge, every Friday night -- and he knew it. For hypocrite though he was, he was neither stupid nor deluded. He had learnt to corral his fleshly weakness into one weekly episode, and it would soon be,gratias Deo, effaced from his soul by the Sacrament of Reconciliation -- after which he could continue to pursue his presbyterial vocation with confidence. Until next Friday.Today, though, he felt somewhat less confident than normal, less spiritually bullish, more vulnerable than usual. Perhaps it was the weather -- dull and grey like many an English spring morning -- but it was almost as if he felt that the hosts of Satan were genuinely massing on the horizon, and that he might truly need the intercession of an archangel to forestall the ruin of his soul. In short, Father Jim's carefully calibrated balancing act between spiritual propriety and sexual concupiscence was feeling unaccountably precarious this morning.He was just letting himself out of the presbytery when a young woman came dashing round the corner, her heels clicking unevenly on the pavement. "Father Jim! Father Jim! Oh, I'mso glad I caught you. Please would you hear my confession?" Behind the urgency of her request Jim descried a pleasingly upper middle-class voice ("so" came out a bit like "say") -- but ever so slightly Estuary ("t" in "caught" barely noticeable), as was common with the younger generation.Father Jim thought, but did not say:Oh fuck. He tried not to think swear words between Saturday morning confession and the end of mass on Sunday evening. But he had not been to confession yet, and therefore made the split-second judgment that he may as well, for now, think obscenities. After all, he liked them; he liked the sound of them: "fuck" -- beautiful, he thought. And this young lady was, he thought to himself,"fucking hot". She was slender and small, almost a waif -- and yet her pencil skirt was just a touch too tight, and her blouse ever so slightly translucent, so that the shape of her nipples, puffy and rounded but not huge, made two soft tents in the front of her top.Oops -- he thought, as he felt his penis begin to stir inside his rather ill-fitting trousers. No, it would not do to be groping his cock out of the way in front of a parishioner, so he banished "fucking hot" from his brain with a quick piece of well-practiced spiritual legerdemain, and switched into concerned parish priest mode. He vaguely recognised the girl -- from the back row of the 10:30, perhaps? -- but wasn't sure if they had ever exchanged words. He felt within his rights to say, "I'm actually on my way out now, er..." as he looked at her quizzically with that I've-forgotten-your-name look customarily used by parish priests."Bernadette -- call me Bernie," said the woman, pronouncing the "r" softly but clearly.OK, thought Father Jim.Typical second-generation immigrant. Tries to keep up the religious traditions of the home country, but talks like a Sloane except when asserting her identity. Clearly done well for herself, been to uni. But -- Jim groaned inwardly -- she wasn't taking the hint."Oh please, Father, I really need you to hear my confession, I... I..." Father Jim looked into her eyes for the first time -- and there was that look of moral desperation he was used to seeing in some people. Some could live in their sins for long periods of time before emotional need drove them back to the Church; others, like this girl, presumably, were made of less stern stuff. Her eyes glistened with barely held-back tears, as she continued: "I think I may be under a curse, or a hex, and I... I know you are training to be an exorcist, aren't you?" Her lower lip trembled, as her damp eyes pleaded with him.In the silence of his heart, Father Jim thought to himself:Oh fuck. But he took no pleasure in this particular iteration of his favourite obscenity. He had met this kind of woman before: excessively impressionable, with an inclination to see spiritual warfare lurking under every pebble, when her only problem might a temporary imbalance of hormones.Exorcism? Bullshit. But Jim was, despite his cynicism, a kind man, and so he said, "All right, Bernie. Of course. Let's go in," as he ushered her through his front door. "Face-to-face, or in the box?""Oh, I prefer the old-fashioned way, if that's all right, Father?" she replied sheepishly.He gestured her down the corridor towards the church, and then up the long nave -- pleasantly illumined by the shifting colours which filtered dully through the great east window. As she walked ahead of him, he watched her bottom jiggle gently from side to side, red heels clicking on the stone floor, her medium-length ponytail of light brown hair swishing behind her. Fuck, he thought -- and this time revelled in the thought.Fuck yeah... he muttered silently, his mind's eye briefly, secretly, undressing her from behind."Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," said the girl, once they had both settled into their respective halves of the confessional."How long has --""Oh, over a year, Father." interrupted Bernie. "I've got a lot of catching up to do."Fuck, thought Father Jim. But, because he was basically a kind-hearted man, he instead said: "Well, take your time. It is good that God has called you back to the Sacrament now.""Thank you, Father." He heard Bernie take a deep breath. "I... I'm married..." she ventured cautiously. "But I've not been strictly... faithful..." There was a long pause.Ho ho, I knew it, thought Jim.Another pretty young slut, got hitched too soon, screwing around behind her husband's back. Two a penny. Had one just last week, didn't I? But instead he said, "And how long have you been having this affair?""Oh, it's not an affair, Father," said the girl. "It's kind of a weird binge, a bit... perverted, if you know what I mean. On the rebound, I guess, because I walked in on my husband, you know -- with someone else..."Oh shit, thought Father Jim.This'll take all morning. Web of adultery -- seen it all before. One fucks around, the other goes off the rails, and soon they're all crotch-deep in moral turpitude. Why do they even bother to get married if they've got no continence? Should try and be celibate -- then they'll learn how lucky they are... All that passed through his mind in an instant, but of course he voiced none of it."You see," continued Bernie, "we were married a year ago -- here, before you came: Father Peter married us -- and, well, I thought it was going so well. We... we were really good in bed, you know... I mean, we really liked the sex and everything."Too much information! thought Jim to himself. But he did not say that either."You know, I was a virgin when we got married. I'd saved myself up for this. And the first time, it was wonderful. You know, for some girls it hurts? But for me it was bliss. He just slid in, and I loved it. And we loved it -- just like that, in and out, you know?"Father Jim felt his cock begin to stir. It was the inevitable involuntary reaction to a sexual confession which was becoming just a touch too detailed.Fuck, girl, why are you telling me all this? he thought. But Bernie continued to jabber, exuding, though unseen, an air of wide-eyed innocence from behind her latticed screen."But then Giles started wanting me to do things I didn't want to -- you know, oral, and anal, and stuff -- and I really wasn't comfortable with it, so we had a few arguments about that. "I mean, when he wanted me to give him a blowjob, you know, he'd just pull down his trousers and waggle the thing in front of my face..."Too much fucking information! Jim screeched in the silence of his own heart. But he couldn't stop himself imagining the husband's cock, stiff and huge, waggling back and forth in front of Bernie's pretty face, her narrow mouth opening wider, wider, her tongue extending to lick pre-cum off the frenulum before her lips softly enclosed the...Fuck, Jim, pull yourself together, man! he thought, as he felt his cock begin to make an uncomfortable tent in his trousers. He stammered out loud, "Er... sister, you don't need to tell me all that, you know, just stick to...""Oh, but it's important, Father," came Bernie's voice. "Because that's what led to it. I told him I didn't like sucking him off, but he kept trying to persuade me, and I kept saying no..." Father Jim imagined he detected the faintest hint of a smirk in her tone -- but of course it was impossible to tell..."And then," continued Bernie, "there was the anal. Sometimes when we were making love he'd wet his finger with... well, you know... and then he'd reach round and try to stick it in there. I really didn't like it -- and of course he never forced me; I mean, he's a kind man, he'd never do anything nasty -- but it was clear he was disappointed..."Oh Jesus motherfucking Christ, thought Father Jim. His cock was stiff now, and he could feel his own pre-cum beginning to leak slowly from his glans. He reached down to adjust his cock inside his trousers, and inevitably his hand lingered just a bit too long, grasping his own erect shaft through the fabric and squeezing it gently. That familiar thrill of pleasure surged through him -- but he made himself let go, telling himself: Later, Jim, later. Just get this girl through her confession for now..."But the strangest thing of all, Father," Bernie continued unabated, "was when he'd want me to talk dirty to him, you know?"Are you kidding? thought Jim incredulously. Do you think that just because I'm a priest I don't have male blood boiling in my veins? What are you on about, girl?!Bernie seemed oblivious to her confessor's discomfort. Either that, or she was deliberately winding him up -- he couldn't tell for sure. "See, Father," she continued, "he'd ask me to say dirty words, like... 'tits'... and 'pussy'... and..." -- her voice lingered a while on the first consonant -- "'ffffuck'."In an instant, Father Jim's resistance crumbled. That word was his favourite, a glorious fillip to all that was unholy and self-indulgent in the deepest recesses of his mind, and it banished all his residual will-power to the four winds. He quietly but swiftly unzipped his fly, removed his stiff sweaty cock from its prison, pulled back the damp pre-cum-lubricated foreskin, and began to slowly wank his shaft up and down, his lips trembling, his breath coming in ragged bursts. This was wrong. This was so wrong -- he knew it, of course. But he was going to do it anyway. This girl could not possibly be for real. This was no sacrament, this was an ambush. The Evil One was tempting him, and he was succumbing. And he fucking loved it..."See, Father Jim, it must be something about men, they all like those dirty words so much. My husband did: he wanted me to say things like" -- Bernie lowered her voice conspiratorially -- "'Ram your fucking cock in my pussy, baby!' and 'Fuck my hot cunt with that big dick!' Things like that... Do you like hearing things like that, Father?" Bernie's voice was hot and breathy now. Her prey was in her grasp, and she was playing with him: Jim knew it -- but, though he had no idea why this woman had chosen to ambush him in this manner, he knew it was too late. He groaned, as he felt his cock stiffen further in his sweaty palm, felt his heart pound faster with excitement."I'm sure we could have worked things out, Father. You know, I got quite used to the dirty talk -- that was quite fun actually. But the oral, and the anal -- no way. He'd show me videos on the internet, you know -- porn? Girls getting fucked in the arse, and taking cocks down their throats -- and it just looked so horrible and painful and disgusting. And then he'd show me videos of group sex, and asked if I'd ever like to do stuff like that -- and I said no! And then, to show him I really loved him, I'd let him fuck me. I mean, I really loved it when he fucked me: when his cock was all huge and stiff, and then he'd lie me on my back and fuck me all deep and squelchy. Sometimes he'd lie flat on me and grind the base of his cock against my clit to make me come. Sometimes he'd shift down, so his cockhead found my G-spot. Sometimes he'd flip me over and do me doggy. Sometimes I'd go on top and drive him wild, teasing him with my wet pussy lips before plunging down onto this cock. And I loved all that, Father, I did, truly. Cock in cunt -- that's the way it's meant to be, isn't it? I mean, that's the way God made us, isn't it?"Father Jim groaned at the absurdity of his situation. Here was a young girl giving him lessons in Saint John Paul's Theology of the Body, while he stroked his cock in the confessional -- what the fuck was going on?! But he couldn't stop now. His cock was raging, his balls were aching, and his thoughts were in mindfuck mode. Here was a girl after his own heart, one who loved being fucked in the cunt, and who loved to talk filthy. "Oh yeah, oh fuck, oh God..." he muttered incoherently in his ecstasy."You OK in there, Father Jim?" giggled the girl. "I'm sorry for being so explicit, but -- I kind of have to, you'll see why soon, I'll explain..."You don't have to explain, thought Father Jim -- as far as he was capable of thinking anything at all, for he was past thinking now. His mind was now fixed firmly on cunt, on fucking cunt, just like this girl was saying: cock slip-sliding in and out, grinding against engorged clit-flesh. It didn't matter whose cunt: his years of fake fantasy sex, week after week of dirty pictures -- "Jenny" or "Codi" or "Elsa" or whoever the fuck they were; or of listening to "Bea" recycling her mind-banked fuck-fantasies for his delectation -- all this had inured him to the sheer fakery of being a sex-obsessed celibate. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered now, except the filth-filled moment.

In this episode Father Peter A. Pomposello, CH (MAJ), USA, tells how he recruited more than two dozen prospective Catholic U.S. Army chaplains in less than 18 months as the Army's chief Catholic chaplain recruiter.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar, offers a reflection on the Scourging at the Pillar for our April 6, 2024, Communal First Saturday. As part of our Communal First Saturdays, one of our priests reflects on a Mystery of the Rosary on the first Saturday of every month. 

"Trusting Father: Peter Harkens Back to that Night." A sermon preached by the Rev. David Hanke on Palm Sunday, March 24th, 2024. ESV SCRIPTURE REFERENCE. Head over to restorationarlington.org to learn more about Restoration Anglican Church. We're a church in Arlington that connects people to God, to others, and to the needs of the world. We'd love for you to join us online or in-person soon.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar, shares a reflection on the First Sorrowful Mystery of the Rosary, the agony in the garden, during our Communal First Saturday for March. This meditation was recorded on March 2, 2024.

Episode 188 of the Fit Father Project Podcast is about aligning your body and mind to achieve your goals and change your life!In this episode, you'll meet Fit Father Peter, who shares his weight loss and transformation journey, delving into his background, motivation, and starting stats. He talks about how he found the Fit Father Project and the impact of the program's mission statement and mindset. He also shares his experience with changing his nutrition and involving his family. Peter discusses his history of back pain and how he managed it during his fitness journey. Finally, he talks about his progression through the different workout phases and the milestones he achieved. In this conversation, Peter shares his fitness journey and its impact on his life. He talks about starting a running routine and his progress building his cardio and stamina. Peter also discusses his challenges and the importance of diligence and staying with the program. He emphasizes the role of the Brotherhood in his journey and how support and accountability have been instrumental in his success. Peter reflects on the non-scale victories he has experienced and the positive changes in his mental and emotional well-being. He shares his future goals and the importance of maintaining health. Key Takeaways:Finding a program that aligns with your goals and values can be a game-changer for weight loss and transformation. Creating a mission statement and focusing on mindset can provide the motivation and discipline needed to make lasting changes. Changing nutrition, such as following a structured meal plan and focusing on whole foods, can lead to significant weight loss. Involving family members in your fitness journey can create a supportive environment and make it easier to stick to healthy habits. Managing and preventing pain is possible through physical therapy exercises, proper form during workouts, and gradually increasing intensity. Progressing through different workout phases and challenging yourself with new exercises can improve strength, stamina, and overall fitness. Starting a running routine can be a great way to improve cardio and stamina. Diligence and staying with a program are crucial to achieving steady progress. The Fit Father Brotherhood and support from others can make a significant difference in maintaining motivation and accountability. Non-scale victories (NSVs), such as improved energy and mental well-being, are essential progress markers.So, to get the most from your health and fitness efforts, listen to this episode on aligning your body and mind, take some notes, and check out FF30X! What is FF30X?FF30X is a simple, sustainable, and specific weight loss program designed especially for busy men over 40. With short metabolic training workouts, an easy-to-follow meal plan, and an accountability team there for you at every step, FF30X can help you lose 30, 40, or even 50+ lbs — even if you've never picked up a weight in your life. Click here to see what you get when you join the FF30X program today!If you loved what you heard on the Fit Father Project Podcast, please follow, rate, and review it on Apple Podcasts.You can also...

Father Jim Reconciles his two separate lifestyles. Did God ever ask him to remain celebate for life?By GrushaVashnadze. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.“Oh yeah, cunt!” he muttered under his breath.“Yeah, hot fucking cunt!” he continued, ogling the juicy specimen of beauty displaying herself to his lustful eyes. Her pussy was indeed beautiful, pink and delicate, with a finely-crafted blond landing-strip, held open by a pair of painted fingers, so that he could gaze into its hot, wet, steamy depths. He stroked his cock in anticipation, feeling his shaft stiffen and grow, and feeling that exquisite yearning sensation spread outwards, filling his body with testosterone-fuelled bliss.The owner of said cunt looked at him seductively, the tip of her tongue gently tracing the outline of her lips, her eyes cheekily inviting, one hand kneading her huge, perfect, surgically-enhanced breasts, as the other continued to hold her fuck-lips wide.“Oh, yeah, baby, I'm gonna fuck that cunt so hard,” he continued. “I'm gonna ram my fucking cock deep in your hot pussy, I'm gonna feel your juicy cunt around my cock, and then I'm gonna fucking come inside you, I'm gonna spurt all my fucking cum deep in your hot fuck-hole till you scream in pleasure. You want that, baby, you want that?”But there was no answer from the buxom blonde beauty. For she was but a centrefold in a magazine, lying open before him on his bed. One picture among many, actually, for his eiderdown was covered with a selection of his collected periodicals, open to his favourite pages, featuring a variety of nude beauties, all displaying themselves, he liked to think, purely for his pleasure.His cock throbbed as he stroked it, thumb and two fingers gently rubbing the glans while the palm of his hand wrapped itself around the shaft. He admired his carefully-ordered “cunt collage” as he liked to call it. The buxom blond (“Jenny”, according to the caption) occupied pride of place in the centre of his bed. Surrounding her were half a dozen other centrefolds: “Sabrina”; dark-haired, with huge natural flowing boobs, left hand holding her pussy open whilst one delicate finger of the right curled knuckle-deep into her arsehole; “Brea”; blonde and skinny, with pert breasts, irresistibly smouldering eyes, and a shaven pussy; “Elsa” bleached blond hair, sweet “next-door-girl” smile, hairy blonde cunt with' “oh fuck!” he muttered, as he felt his cock twitch and jerk in delight, gorgeous flappy cunt-lips which dangled, glistening with little beads of pussy-juice…He paused his cock-stroking, looking away and upwards at the ceiling, in order to calm himself down: he didn't want to come too soon. Not yet.Just in time, the phone rang. Nervously he scrabbled for the receiver.“Hi Jimmy!”It was the sultry voice he was expecting. “It's Beattie here, wiff yer fantasy call.”“ Beattie, how are you?”“Oh, Jimmy, I'm feeling so fuckin' horny this evening, I'm been so looking forward to our call.”“Talk to me, Beattie,” said Jimmy, as he resumed slowly massaging his dick.“Oh, you know me, Jimmy, I just can't get enough fuckin'. I'm sitting here on my bed, and I'm wearin' this skimpy negligee, and I've shaved my pussy just for you, and it's so fuckin' wet, Jimmy, I just can't wait for you to ram yer big cock in there. D'ye wanna do that, Jimmy?”Beattie's voice was warm and breathy, something she had practised and honed over the months she had been calling him. Jimmy knew that, these days, he could instead be watching a video online, or a camgirl, but he was a man of habit and tradition, and he loved the way things used to be when he was younger, when porn was always magazines, and audio invariably meant the telephone. And so he sat at the head of his bed, stroking his cock, listening to Beattie's breathy seductive personalised filth, whilst he continued to ogle his favourite magazine nudes.As Beattie spoke, his eyes continued to roam the pages spread open on the bed: “Codi”, a ridiculously slender blonde with big fake tits, pouting lips drooling slightly at the sight of her own shaven cunt, spread wide with two delicate hands; “Emma”, on all fours, so her pussy peeped cheekily out from between her buttocks, crowned by a tight puckered arsehole…Beattie was very good too: she knew, after some six months of weekly Friday evening calls to Jimmy, just how he liked it. Jimmy wasn't interested in toys, or blowjobs, or titfucks, or anal, or any other kinks. He liked cunt. He loved cunt. And he adored it when Beattie talked cunt: “Jimmy…” “my pussy's feelin' so hot tonight. Will ye put yer dick in there, Jimmy?”“It's all for you, Beattie,” muttered Jimmy, in a half-hearted attempt to play along with the fantasy. Actually, he wasn't much interested in the role-play aspect of things: it was, after all, pure fakery, but he liked hearing Beattie talk dirty, and so he said the minimum required to let her know that she was on the right track, and then revelled in the glorious obscenity of her wall-to-wall aural filth.“Oh yeah, that feels so fucking good!” “Your cock's so fuckin' hard, Jimmy. I can feel it deep in my cunt, fillin' me up. Go on, Jimmy, slide that huge fuckin' cock in and out of my wet cunt; can ye feel my pussy all hot and juicy for ye?“Jimmy listened, his eyes roving across the collage spread out on the bed before him, imagining what Beattie's cunt might be like. Deliberately, he had never asked her, preferring to make it a new cunt each week: last week's choice had been “Cecilia”, black, shaven, lips teased apart just enough to reveal her juicy pink haven inside; this week, it would be “Jenny”.Jimmy loved Beattie's voice, “chavvy South London”, he called it, oozing squalor; in his more lucid moments he imagined her as a single mum on the dole in some squalid high-rise council flat in Tooting, a ne'er-do-well scraping together a living using the only pathetic skill she had. But now she was his tart, his whore, his plaything, his fantasy: she could be anything and everything he imagined. He liked playing this game, as he continued to stroke his dick to ecstasy whilst revelling in Beattie's increasingly filthy ongoing monologue. Beattie, for her part, was the consummate professional, sensing from Jimmy's pants and grunts just how far he was on his journey to release. And when Jimmy muttered, “Say my favourite things, Beattie,” she knew just what he meant.“You know, Jimmy, I'm a dirdy, filfy, cuntfuckin' whore… That's what I am, Jimmy, just a cuntfuckin' whore.”Jimmy loved those words, and Beattie's grimy accent was the icing on the cake: his cock jerked and bucked in response, stiffening even further.“I'm a whore, Jimmy. And you like dirdy fuckin' whores, don't cha? You wanna fuck my filfy cunt wiv ‘at big cock?”Jimmy was in ecstasy. Soon Beattie had progressed to “My cunt's so fuckin' wet, Jimmy: that's what you do to me, babe. You're gonna make me fuckin' come, Jimmy, ‘coz I'm a dirdy, filfy, cuntfuckin' whore, and I'm gonna fuckin' come all over your big cock!”Jimmy took the cue, fixing his eyes on “Jenny's” pussy, still, of course, reliably wide open and glistening for him, drinking in its beauty, and gradually ramping up the rhythm of his stroking so as to time his own orgasm to match Beattie's ersatz one. And when Beattie got to;“I'm gonna fuckin' come, Jimmy, here it is baby, come all over ye dirdy filfy cuntfuckin' whore, oh yeah oh Fuck!” Jimmy did exactly that. He felt the tell-tale boiling sensation in his balls, felt his cum surge and rise through his shaft and explode from his bucking, twitching cockhead.“Jenny” was the chosen recipient of Jimmy's cum this evening, six or seven thick ropes of semen splattering over her picture. Jimmy aimed at her cunt, and watched as the likeness of her vulva disappeared under a gloopy coating of semen. Beattie was continuing to moan and squeal down the telephone line: “Oh yeah, Jimmy, are ye comin' for me? Does ‘at feel good, babe?”as the last few dribbles of sperm landed on “Jenny's” tits and face. Beattie's voice turned breathy and softer;“Was 'at nice, Jimmy?” "Do ye like comin' in my dirdy hot cunt, Jimmy?“Jimmy panted incoherently in reply, his imagination desperately clinging on as long as he could to the illusion of sexual fulfillment. But it was always too short-lived. Even before his cock was flaccid, the illusion was fading and Beattie was in business mode: "Same time next week still good for ye, babe? Take it off yer card, yeah?”Jimmy muttered a “Yeah, thanks, Beattie,” before hanging up and surveying the mess. It never looked as good afterwards as he hoped it would before. Sperm-soiled magazine “Jenny” looked, frankly, ridiculous and tawdry now, a far cry from the seductive perfection she had exuded when pristine on the page. And wrapping up and disposing of semen-soaked magazine pages was anything but sexy. But Jimmy did so with his customary goal-oriented efficiency, trying to, and largely succeeding in, staunching his creeping feeling of shame, until the job was done, his penis was wiped clean, and he had put on his clothes again.Then his collar.And then his cassock.And then Father James Wright knelt on the floor of his bedroom and wept bitterly.“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the Divine Power of God; cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits, who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of… oh fuck…”Father Jim's voice tailed off. He had performed his morning ablutions, had his breakfast, and said his Office, and was preparing himself by examination of conscience for his weekly two-birds-with-one-stone excursion to the Cathedral, first to confession, followed by his weekly exorcism training seminar. He usually dressed in civvies for these visits, not wanting to draw attention to himself on public transport, but he never missed his hebdomadal chance to unburden his soul, and timing it for Saturday mornings made sense. Apart from anything else, this way, he felt less guilty saying the Eucharist over the weekend than if he were to have his Friday evening sins hanging on his conscience.But this morning Father Jim's voice gave up mid-supplication, as the thought impinged upon his intercessions: Am I a hypocrite? Actually, this was a thought which frequently went through his mind. The answer, of course, was yes: regularly, deliberately, and with full foreknowledge, every Friday night, and he knew it. For hypocrite though he was, he was neither stupid nor deluded. He had learnt to corral his fleshly weakness into one weekly episode, and it would soon be, gratias Deo, effaced from his soul by the Sacrament of Reconciliation, after which he could continue to pursue his presbyterial vocation with confidence. Until next Friday.Today, though, he felt somewhat less confident than normal, less spiritually bullish, more vulnerable than usual. Perhaps it was the weather, dull and grey like many an English spring morning, but it was almost as if he felt that the hosts of Satan were genuinely massing on the horizon, and that he might truly need the intercession of an archangel to forestall the ruin of his soul. In short, Father Jim's carefully calibrated balancing act between spiritual propriety and sexual concupiscence was feeling unaccountably precarious this morning.He was just letting himself out of the presbytery when a young woman came dashing round the corner, her heels clicking unevenly on the pavement. “Father Jim! Father Jim! Oh, I'm so glad I caught you. Please would you hear my confession?” Behind the urgency of her request Jim descried a pleasingly upper middle-class voice (“so” came out a bit like “say”), but ever so slightly Estuary (“t” in “caught” barely noticeable), as was common with the younger generation.Father Jim thought, but did not say: Oh fuck. He tried not to think swear words between Saturday morning confession and the end of mass on Sunday evening. But he had not been to confession yet, and therefore made the split-second judgment that he may as well, for now, think obscenities. After all, he liked them; he liked the sound of them: “fuck”, beautiful, he thought. And this young lady was, he thought to himself, “fucking hot”. She was slender and small, almost a waif, and yet her pencil skirt was just a touch too tight, and her blouse ever so slightly translucent, so that the shape of her nipples, puffy and rounded but not huge, made two soft tents in the front of her top.Oops, he thought, as he felt his penis begin to stir inside his rather ill-fitting trousers. No, it would not do to be groping his cock out of the way in front of a parishioner, so he banished “fucking hot” from his brain with a quick piece of well-practiced spiritual legerdemain, and switched into concerned parish priest mode. He vaguely recognised the girl, from the back row of the 10:30, perhaps? but wasn't sure if they had ever exchanged words. He felt within his rights to say, “I'm actually on my way out now, er…” as he looked at her quizzically with that I've-forgotten-your-name look customarily used by parish priests.“Bernadette, call me Bernie,” said the woman, pronouncing the “r” softly but clearly.OK, thought Father Jim. Typical second-generation immigrant. Tries to keep up the religious traditions of the home country, but talks like a Sloane except when asserting her identity. Clearly done well for herself, been to uni. But, Jim groaned inwardly, she wasn't taking the hint.“Oh please, Father, I really need you to hear my confession, I… I…”Father Jim looked into her eyes for the first time, and there was that look of moral desperation he was used to seeing in some people. Some could live in their sins for long periods of time before emotional need drove them back to the Church; others, like this girl, presumably, were made of less stern stuff. Her eyes glistened with barely held-back tears, as she continued: “I think I may be under a curse, or a hex, and I… I know you are training to be an exorcist, aren't you?” Her lower lip trembled, as her damp eyes pleaded with him.In the silence of his heart, Father Jim thought to himself: Oh fuck. But he took no pleasure in this particular iteration of his favourite obscenity. He had met this kind of woman before: excessively impressionable, with an inclination to see spiritual warfare lurking under every pebble, when her only problem might a temporary imbalance of hormones. Exorcism? Bullshit. But Jim was, despite his cynicism, a kind man, and so he said, “All right, Bernie. Of course. Let's go in,” as he ushered her through his front door. “Face-to-face, or in the box?”“Oh, I prefer the old-fashioned way, if that's all right, Father?” she replied sheepishly.He gestured her down the corridor towards the church, and then up the long nave, pleasantly illumined by the shifting colours which filtered dully through the great east window. As she walked ahead of him, he watched her bottom jiggle gently from side to side, red heels clicking on the stone floor, her medium-length ponytail of light brown hair swishing behind her. Fuck, he thought, and this time revelled in the thought. Fuck yeah… he muttered silently, his mind's eye briefly, secretly, undressing her from behind.“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” said the girl, once they had both settled into their respective halves of the confessional.“How long has,”“Oh, over a year, Father. I've got a lot of catching up to do.”Fuck, thought Father Jim. But, because he was basically a kind-hearted man, he instead said: “Well, take your time. It is good that God has called you back to the Sacrament now.”“Thank you, Father.” “I… I'm married…” "But I've not been strictly… faithful…“ There was a long pause.Ho ho, I knew it, thought Jim. Another pretty young slut, got hitched too soon, screwing around behind her husband's back. Two a penny. Had one just last week, didn't I? But instead he said, "And how long have you been having this affair?”“Oh, it's not an affair, Father,” "It's kind of a weird binge, a bit… perverted, if you know what I mean. On the rebound, I guess, because I walked in on my husband, you know, with someone else…“Oh shit, thought Father Jim. This'll take all morning. Web of adultery, seen it all before. One fucks around, the other goes off the rails, and soon they're all crotch-deep in moral turpitude. Why do they even bother to get married if they've got no continence? Should try and be celibate, then they'll learn how lucky they are… All that passed through his mind in an instant, but of course he voiced none of it."You see,” “we were married a year ago, here, before you came: Father Peter married us, and, well, I thought it was going so well. We… we were really good in bed, you know… I mean, we really liked the sex and everything.”Too much information! thought Jim to himself. But he did not say that either.“You know, I was a virgin when we got married. I'd saved myself up for this. And the first time, it was wonderful. You know, for some girls it hurts? But for me it was bliss. He just slid in, and I loved it. And we loved it, just like that, in and out, you know?”Father Jim felt his cock begin to stir. It was the inevitable involuntary reaction to a sexual confession which was becoming just a touch too detailed. Fuck, girl, why are you telling me all this? he thought. But Bernie continued to jabber, exuding, though unseen, an air of wide-eyed innocence from behind her latticed screen.“But then Giles started wanting me to do things I didn't want to, you know, oral, and anal, and stuff, and I really wasn't comfortable with it, so we had a few arguments about that. "I mean, when he wanted me to give him a blowjob, you know, he'd just pull down his trousers and waggle the thing in front of my face…”Too much fucking information! Jim screeched in the silence of his own heart. But he couldn't stop himself imagining the husband's cock, stiff and huge, waggling back and forth in front of Bernie's pretty face, her narrow mouth opening wider, wider, her tongue extending to lick pre-cum off the frenulum before her lips softly enclosed the… Fuck, Jim, pull yourself together, man! he thought, as he felt his cock begin to make an uncomfortable tent in his trousers. He stammered out loud, “Er… sister, you don't need to tell me all that, you know, just stick to…”“Oh, but it's important, Father,” “Because that's what led to it. I told him I didn't like sucking him off, but he kept trying to persuade me, and I kept saying no…” Father Jim imagined he detected the faintest hint of a smirk in her tone, but of course it was impossible to tell…“And then,” "there was the anal. Sometimes when we were making love he'd wet his finger with… well, you know… and then he'd reach round and try to stick it in there. I really didn't like it, and of course he never forced me; I mean, he's a kind man, he'd never do anything nasty, but it was clear he was disappointed…“Oh Jesus motherfucking Christ, thought Father Jim. His cock was stiff now, and he could feel his own pre-cum beginning to leak slowly from his glans. He reached down to adjust his cock inside his trousers, and inevitably his hand lingered just a bit too long, grasping his own erect shaft through the fabric and squeezing it gently. That familiar thrill of pleasure surged through him, but he made himself let go, telling himself: Later, Jim, later. Just get this girl through her confession for now…"But the strangest thing of all, Father,” "was when he'd want me to talk dirty to him, you know?“Are you kidding? thought Jim incredulously. Do you think that just because I'm a priest I don't have male blood boiling in my veins? What are you on about, girl?!Bernie seemed oblivious to her confessor's discomfort. Either that, or she was deliberately winding him up, he couldn't tell for sure. "See, Father,” "he'd ask me to say dirty words, like… 'tits'… and 'pussy'… and…“ , her voice lingered a while on the first consonant, "fuck”In an instant, Father Jim's resistance crumbled. That word was his favourite, a glorious fillip to all that was unholy and self-indulgent in the deepest recesses of his mind, and it banished all his residual will-power to the four winds. He quietly but swiftly unzipped his fly, removed his stiff sweaty cock from its prison, pulled back the damp pre-cum-lubricated foreskin, and began to slowly wank his shaft up and down, his lips trembling, his breath coming in ragged bursts. This was wrong. This was so wrong , he knew it, of course. But he was going to do it anyway. This girl could not possibly be for real. This was no sacrament, this was an ambush. The Evil One was tempting him, and he was succumbing. And he fucking loved it…“See, Father Jim, it must be something about men, they all like those dirty words so much. My husband did: he wanted me to say things like” Bernie lowered her voice conspiratorially;“'Ram your fucking cock in my pussy, baby!' and 'Fuck my hot cunt with that big dick!' Things like that… Do you like hearing things like that, Father?” Bernie's voice was hot and breathy now. Her prey was in her grasp, and she was playing with him: Jim knew it, but, though he had no idea why this woman had chosen to ambush him in this manner, he knew it was too late. He groaned, as he felt his cock stiffen further in his sweaty palm, felt his heart pound faster with excitement.“I'm sure we could have worked things out, Father. You know, I got quite used to the dirty talk, that was quite fun actually. But the oral, and the anal; no way. He'd show me videos on the internet, you know; porn? Girls getting fucked in the arse, and taking cocks down their throats; and it just looked so horrible and painful and disgusting. And then he'd show me videos of group sex, and asked if I'd ever like to do stuff like that; and I said no! And then, to show him I really loved him, I'd let him fuck me. I mean, I really loved it when he fucked me: when his cock was all huge and stiff, and then he'd lie me on my back and fuck me all deep and squelchy. Sometimes he'd lie flat on me and grind the base of his cock against my clit to make me come. Sometimes he'd shift down, so his cockhead found my G-spot. Sometimes he'd flip me over and do me doggy. Sometimes I'd go on top and drive him wild, teasing him with my wet pussy lips before plunging down onto this cock. And I loved all that, Father, I did, truly. Cock in cunt that's the way it's meant to be, isn't it? I mean, that's the way God made us, isn't it?”Father Jim groaned at the absurdity of his situation. Here was a young girl giving him lessons in Saint John Paul's Theology of the Body, while he stroked his cock in the confessional, what the fuck was going on?! But he couldn't stop now. His cock was raging, his balls were aching, and his thoughts were in mindfuck mode. Here was a girl after his own heart, one who loved being fucked in the cunt, and who loved to talk filthy. “Oh yeah, oh fuck, oh God…” he muttered incoherently in his ecstasy.“You Okay in there, Father Jim?” "I'm sorry for being so explicit, but ; I kind of have to, you'll see why soon, I'll explain…“You don't have to explain, thought Father Jim' as far as he was capable of thinking anything at all, for he was past thinking now. His mind was now fixed firmly on cunt, on fucking cunt, just like this girl was saying: cock slip-sliding in and out, grinding against engorged clit-flesh. It didn't matter whose cunt: his years of fake fantasy sex, week after week of dirty pictures; "Jenny” or “Codi” or “Elsa” or whoever the fuck they were; or of listening to “ Beattie” recycling her mind-banked fuck-fantasies for his delectation; all this had inured him to the sheer fakery of being a sex-obsessed celibate. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered now, except the filth-filled moment.“But then,” “one day, about six months ago, I came home early from work, and… and I heard voices from the bedroom upstairs. I was about to walk in, but then, through the door, I heard things like, 'Oh yeah, suck that cock, baby. I'm gonna fuck your pretty slut-face with my big dick…' ; you know, things like that?” Jim heard a nervous giggle from behind the lattice. “And there was the sound of squealing and gagging, like some girl was getting their throat fucked… So then I thought maybe he was watching porn…? But this was too real; and when I realised what must be going on… Oh God, Father, it hurt so much…”For the first time, Father Jim paused stroking his cock. The girl was sobbing softly now. Father Jim felt sorry; and guilty. “I'm so sorry,” he said quietly, as his cock began to soften, and he began to recognise the reality of his own situation. And so his “I'm so sorry” became, retrospectively, not just an expression of sympathy for Bernie, but also an admission of his own culpability. What was he doing sitting in the half-light, pre-cum smeared over his hand, jerking off while listening to a vulnerable, disturbed young woman telling him about the moment she found her husband cheating on her? Shame on you, Jim, he told himself silently.But Bernie had not finished.“And so I opened the door,” “and there they were: Giles standing there shirtless, his big cock stuck out through his fly, ropes of spit dangling from the shaft and dribbling all over the face and tits of my best friend Vicky; you know Vicky: Victoria Berry, she runs the First Holy Communion programme here…? Anyway, she was saying, 'Oh yeah, babe, I fucking love it when you choke me with that big cock, go on, ram that cock down my throat again…'"And then she saw me, before he did. At first she paused in shock. Then she screamed. And then she retreated to the corner of the bedroom, desperately trying to cover up her big tits and wipe the spit off her face. 'Oh God, Bernie, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!' But she wasn't sorry; and I knew it."Giles didn't even pretend. He just stood there, spit dribbling from his cock, smirking. He even said, 'Wanna join us, Dette? Come here and I'll fuck your cunt just the way you like it, while Vicky licks my balls…'"And I… well, I had no idea what to say. So I just screamed at him, '"Just the way I like it” ; sorry?! You're nothing but a fucking pervert, with all your porn, and your anal and your throatfucking. And now this?! How dare you treat me this way; your wife?! What's wrong with you?!!' And then… I didn't know what to do: I wanted so much to hurt him, to make him suffer, standing there all smug with his dick dribbling all over our carpet. But more than that, I wanted to protect myself, to purify myself of the horror and degradation of it all. I wanted to show him I was better than all his filth, to save myself from where he was wanting to take me. So I shouted, 'You'll never fuck me again, you bastard! No man will ever fuck me again. I swear, as God is my witness'; and I know I shouldn't have sworn, Father: I shouldn't have said anything like that, but, God forgive me, I did; 'I swear that no man will ever fuck this cunt again -or may God strike me dead!' And then I ran out. And I never went back.“So now what do I do, Father? I mean, I've called a curse down on myself. May God strike me dead if I break my vow! that's what I said! And, you know, I've stuck with it, Father. I've kept my vow. Ever since then, I've not been fucked. And that was six months ago; probably just before you came to this parish, wasn't it?”Bernie paused. And Father Jim sat in the half-light, bewildered, confused, and scared. This woman must be unstable, he thought. Stark raving mad, actually. Why else would she come to the confessional to tell him, in the filthiest language imaginable; what exactly? that she had caught her husband in flagrante delicto and had now, on the rebound, forsworn sex?“Bernie… Bernie…” Jim fumbled for the right words. “What can I do for you? You have committed no mortal sin. You don't need exorcism – or even confession. But do you want help? Counselling? We have a wonderful ministry here for separated and divorced Catholics: let me put you in touch with the leader, she could help you…”“No, Father,” interrupted Bernie firmly, “you don't understand. I swore that I if am ever fucked again, God must strike me dead. I am under a curse, Father and I need to be released. And you are an exorcist, are you not?”Father Jim sat in the semi-darkness, his flaccid cock dangling out of his fly, a little droplet of pre-cum still glimmering on his glans, and he took a deep breath. “I have been receiving training, yes; but you don't need exorcism. Your words were spoken in haste, in an understandable excess of emotion: God will not hold that against you. You need to rebuild your life, not live in fear of an imagined curse that…”“Father,” Bernie interrupted again, even more firmly that before, “Pray over me now: release me from my curse. The Evil One has my cunt in his grasp. After all…”Beattie paused, then spoke very slowly and clearly;“I am a dirty, filthy, cuntfucking whore.”Father Jim's heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?” he gasped.“I said, 'I am dirty, filthy, cuntfucking whore.' Or, would you prefer it like this:'I'm a dirdy, filfy, cuntfucking whore, Jimmy!Father Jim leapt up; terrified. Now he knew he was in trouble. Who was this girl? Who was she pretending to be? Who was pretending to be whom? And what was she after? And why was she playing with him like this? What it a trap? All these thoughts raced through his mind, but he did not have time to voice any of them before Bernie's voice (or was it Beattie's?), cold as steel despite the muffling effect of the latticed confessional screen, said: "Don't put yer cock away, Jimmy. Leave it danglin' like the good li'l wanker you are, and join me in front of the Sacrament.” He heard the door on Bernie's side of the confessional open, and her heels click-clicking across the stone floor in the direction of the altar.Obediently, though trembling in terror, Father Jim opened his door; and gasped. For Bernie's tiny waif-like figure was naked now, apart from her red high heels, her tight bottom wiggling and swaying as she walked ahead of him, the wispy outline of her pubic hair just visible between her soft buttocks. “Do 'ye like it, Jimmy?” smirked Bernie, as she looked back over her shoulder to watch his cock, still dangling awkwardly out of his fly, begin to stiffen again. “This is whatcha wanted ta see when you followed me in here, wasn't it? Because ye like cunt, don't ye, Jimmy? Nuffink better than the sight of a hot cunt peeping out from between Beattie's arse-cheeks, eh? Ye wanna fuck my cunt, Jimmy? 'Coz you can…”She reached the sanctuary steps, and turned to point one accusing finger at Jim as she bellowed;“After you fucking excercise it!”Beattie's demented scream echoed off the stone walls of the church, as she backed up the three steps to the sanctuary and lifted her bottom onto the altar, carelessly scattering crucifix, sacramentary and candle-stands onto the floor. She spread her legs wide and leant back on her elbows, pert puffy tits and lightly thatched pussy-gape shamelessly displayed. Father Jim stood, horrified and transfixed in equal measure. The detritus of Beattie's blasphemy lay scattered on the floor; but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. Oh yeah, cunt! he thought, despite himself. Yeah, hot fucking cunt!Beattie knew what he was thinking.“Do 'ye like it, Jimmy?” she breathed. “If ye wanna fuck it, get yer prayer book, and fuckin' remove my curse!” Beattie began to slide one finger into her pussy, wetting it with her fuck-slime and gently rubbing her clit. Father Jim hesitated, rooted to the spot in terror, until Beattie screamed again,“Get yer fucking prayer book and pray my curse away, Jimmy!”Father Jim scrabbled through a pile of books on the front pew, retrieved a copy of Prayers Against the Powers of Darkness, and raised his right palm towards Beattie, who was now panting in ecstasy as she rubbed her clit with one hand, two fingers of the other plunging in and out of her sodden pussy.“Lo… Lord Jesus Christ,” stammered the priest, “I place my sister at the foot of Your cross and ask You to cover her with Your Precious Blood which pours forth from Your Most Sacred Heart and Your Most Holy Wounds. Cleanse her, my Jesus, in the living water that flows from Your Heart. I ask You to surround her, Lord Jesus, with Your Holy Light.”“Oh yeah, amen!”screamed Beattie , as a spasm went through her body; whether of spiritual battle or sexual pleasure Father did not know, but no longer cared. His words were those of prayer; but his mind was fixed on cunt.Cunt… oh yeah, cunt! he moaned in the silence of his heart, even as he continued to stammer: “In… in… in the… Holy Name of Jesus, I break and dissolve any and all curses, spiritual influences, evil wishes, evil desires, and every dysfunction and disease from any source including your mistakes and sins. In Jesus' Name, I sever the transmission of any and all vows, pacts, spiritual bonds and satanic works.”“Fuck yeah!”screamed the girl, as another spasm passed through her body. Three slimy fingers were now pounding in and out of her cunt, as the other hand rubbed frantically at her clit.Father Jim's cock was stiff and throbbing again; but with one hand holding his prayer book and the other extended towards Bernie, he could not touch it, but continued to read with a trembling voice: “In the Name of Jesus, I lift this curse. I thank You, Jesus, for setting my sister free. Fill her with charity, compassion, faith, gentleness, hope, humility, modesty, tranquillity, truth, understanding, and wisdom. Help her to walk in Your Light and Truth, illuminated by the Holy Spirit so that she may praise, honour, and glorify Our Father in time and in eternity.”“Fuck yeah, Jesus!”;screamed Bernie, as her whole body shook from head to toe, four fingers now forming a blur as they pounded in and out of her cunt.“Free me, Jesus! Free my fucking cunt! Oh fuck! “Father Jim's cock was sticking horizontally out of his fly, throbbing with wild desperation. Pre-cum dribbled down his shaft; but still he did not touch, as he continued to stretch out his right hand in prayer: "For You, Lord Jesus, are the Way, and the Truth, and the Life, and You have come that we might have life, and have it to the full.”Bernie's whole fist was now pounding in and out of her cunt, her fuck-lips stretched wide in agony and ecstasy as she screamed, “Depart from me, Satan! Oh, I'm cumming! Oh yeah!” Juice squirted from her cunt, across the floor and down the stone altar steps, splattering Father Jim's shoes and trouser-legs.“Surely God is my salvation,” intoned the priest, lips and hands trembling but his cock throbbing nevertheless. “I will trust and not be afraid. The Lord, the Lord himself, is my strength and my defense; he is my salvation.”“Amen… Amen…”whispered Bernie as she slowly withdrew her slimy hand from her cunt, her fuck-lips stretching wide, leaving her pussy gaping, her pink flesh glistening in front of Father Jim's face. The priest lowered his right hand, then stood, staring, bewildered, drained; but his cock still stiff and dribbling.Bernie, had a wild deranged smile spreading across her face.“I'm free, Father,” "Jesus has set me free from my curse!“Jim stared in horror. Bernie's face was luminescent, demented. But her cunt shone with a different kind of gleam; and Jim could not tear his eyes away from it."I can fuck again, Father,” "My cunt is free again: look!“She spread her pussy-lips wide, so that Jim could stare into her pink gloopy bubbling depths. And then she said the inevitable: "Now fuck me, Jimmy…”Father Jim gripped his cock with his right hand, even as his left held his prayer book tight. He was scared; terrified of what he had just done, and of what this deranged troubled girl was now telling him to do. He knew this was all wrong. But the scent of frigged-out cunt, the sight of that glistening pink fuck-flesh, and the sound of her sultry voice breathing at him, were too much to withstand. “Fuck me, Jimmy,” “Fuck my hot cunt. 'Coz I'm a dirdy, filfy, cuntfuckin' whore. And you like dirdy fuckin' whores, don'tcha? You wanna fuck my filfy cunt wiv yer big cock?”Father Jim nodded, mutely, his right hand gripping his shaft. His prayer book slipped subconsciously from his left hand, landing in a little puddle of pussy-squirt on the stone floor.“Come on Jimmy,” breathed Beattie. “Don't be scared. My cunt's all safe now. No curse no more. And I've been waitin' for this for so long, Jimmy. Every fuckin' Friday night I've had my fingers up my cunt, rubbing myself off for ye, listening to ye spurt your hot cum all over yer wank-mags. Now it's time for you to fuck my cunt for real, Jimmy!”“Wh… who are you?” stammered Father Jim. “Why me?”Beattie spread her cunt-lips again. “Later, Jimmy, later,” "Now fuck me.“Trembling, Father Jim walked up the three stone steps to the edge of the altar, where Beattie sat, her legs spread wide, still adorned by her red high heels, her cunt pungent, oozing, inviting. He nudged his bulging cockhead against her cunt-lips, and pushed."Oh God!” He could not resist calling out; for here, now, for the first time ever, was something he had fantasised about all his life. He felt Beattie's soft moist velvety depths yield and engulf him, felt her juices gently coat the length of his shaft, felt her inner cunt muscles squeezing, caressing. And then he started to fuck; slowly at first, relishing the heavenly-hellish feeling of her slip-slimy walls stroking the full length of his shaft as it slid all the way out, then in, and then again, and again, each new thrust taking his cock to a new level of pleasure, and his mind closer and closer to ecstasy.“Is 'at good for ye, Jimmy?” “You lifted my curse, Jimmy. I knew you could, Mister Father James Wright! From the first time I saw yer card details I knew you were the one to save me. Giles and Vicky can go fuck themselves: 'coz I got a priest to set my cunt free!”Jimmy knew deep down that this girl was mad, that he had been trapped, and that this meant the end of everything he had ever truly valued: his vocation, his career, his friendships, his reputation. But… cunt. Cunt. This was not like jerking off over his magazines on Friday night. This cunt was real; and truly, he saw that it was good. Beattie was now talking to him the way he could never resist:“Feel how fuckin' wet my cunt is, Jimmy? That's what you do to me, babe. You're gonna make me come, Jimmy, 'coz I'm a dirdy, filfy, cuntfuckin' whore, and I'm gonna fuckin' come all over your big cock!”By GrushaVashnadze for Literotica.

The VoiceOver Pod with Justine Reiss

Ray Schwetz and Donyshia Boston-Hill get business empowerment from Father Peter Pomposello, a Catholic Priest who is also a recruiter for the heroic calling of U.S. Army Chaplains.

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the First Sunday of Lent. It was given in the Basilica on Feb. 18, 2024.

SONS OF MELCHIZEDEK – On this episode of Sons of Melchizedek, a show highlighting priests serving in the Diocese of Lafayette-in-Indiana and the Archdiocese of Indianapolis, we talk with Father Peter Lewitzke of the Dominican Province of St. Albert the Great, parochial vicar at St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Center at Purdue University in Indiana.

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the Feast of the Holy Family. It was given in the Basilica on December 31, 2023.

Do You Ever Wonder is a production of Hallmark Abstract Service and is hosted by CEO Michael Haltman.Hallmark Abstract Service provides title insurance for your New York State commercial and residential real estate transactions.______________________________________________________________________Father Peter Pomposello...Priest, Paratrooper, and Pathfinder! Do You Ever Wonder?Starting his career in the Reserve Officer Training Corps and as a schoolteacher, Father Peter spent much of his time at Our Lady, Queen of Peace on Staten Island, and at the age of 28 decided to dedicate his life to serving the Lord in the Eucharist.Now he has been in the Army for 8 years as a priest first and a soldier second! However getting to the Archdiocese for the Military Services in the first place required the permission of his bishop, Cardinal Timothy Dolan who graciously gave it to him.He has been deployed to combat zones in Iraq and Syria, and has jumped out of planes with paratroopers in Alaska.In his far-reaching role in the Army, Father Peter has also had to say prayers for soldiers who died in combat, blessing their bodies before they made their ‘angel flight' home to their family and loved ones for their funerals.Father Peter also serves the U.S. Army in the role of priest recruiter. His mission is to bring more Catholic priests and seminarians to serve as chaplains in the Army and Army Reserves. Currently, only 90 priests are serving in the military, with another 310 needed.The conversation touched many subjects, not the least of which is the current conflict between Israel and Hamas, coupled with the severe moral injury likely being experienced by a great many soldiers.This subject led us to the Heroes To Heroes Foundation, where podcast host Michael Haltman serves as Board Chair. HTH deals with U.S. soldiers suffering moral injury, with Team journeys to Israel a key part of the mission's success.If you would like to reach Father Peter Pomposello his email address is Priestrecruitereast@gmail.com.___________________________________________________Please subscribe to Do You Ever Wonder using the two links below, and don't be shy about sharing the links with your friends.Subscribe to Do You Ever Wonder on YouTube here:  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCzmL4Yaump_9Q7tMSChDoUQSubscribe on your favorite streaming platform here: https://areyouwondering.buzzsprout.com/shareDo you have a great story to tell? Are you interested in appearing as a guest on the Do You Ever Wonder podcast? Let Mike Haltman know at mhaltman@hallmarkabstractllc.com.The Do You Ever Wonder podcast is brought to you by New York title insurance provider Hallmark Abstract Service, and hosted by its CEO Mike Haltman._______________________________________________Hallmark Abstract Service...You Buy Real Estate, We Protect It!Questions about the podcast, NY title insurance, or the RE transaction process? Let Hallmark Abstract Service know at (646) 741-6101 or at info@hallmarkabstractllc.com.

In this episode we are joined by military chaplain Father Peter Pomposello to talk about his life story. Father Peter shares about growing up Catholic, falling away, joining the army, and breaking up with his girlfriend to become a priest. Episode 92 SHOW HOSTS: Deacon Harold Burke Sivers Nick De La Torre Ellen Holmes Steeves LeBlanc SUPPORT our show: theprodigallife.com SHOW PAGE: https://www.awakencatholic.org/the-prodigal-life/torn-between-getting-married-and-becoming-a-priest-w-fr-peter-pomposello Catholic Gifts - https://catholic.store/collections/prodigal-life-deacon-dan-sivers-gift-guide Catholic SWAG - https://catholicmerch.store Find us on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/43oYVj8mBYGWhOCMxwQshL?si=5e80269564844207 Find us on ApplePodcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-prodigal-life/id1599203072 Bring Nick De La Torre to your parish or event! - https://www.awakencatholic.church/mission

Space and What is In It - Moderated by Danny -Barbara Campbell and her family along with Father Peter all share a lively discussion about the extraterrestrial and how it differs in definition from Supernatural. Everyone shares thoughts and opinions in a discussion that covers everything from Blue Book Project and USAF findings to the scripture from John 16, 12-15 "I still have many things to tell you, but you can't handle them now."  This podcast shares a family's collective faith and knowledge on this and other topics like mythical animals. It's such a great listen! Visit https://staroftheseaministries.com to learn more.

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on November 19, 2023.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar at Basilica, shares a homily during the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on October 22, 2023.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on September 17, 2023.

Peter Griffith was born in Barbados, and in junior high school, he emigrated to Brooklyn, New York. He was married to Joan Donna Griffith for 20 years before the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center on 9/11 stole her life. Together, they raised two children, Paula and Joann. He is an avid photographer, bird enthusiast, and enjoys science fiction. He also likes to draw, journal, and occasionally smoke a cigar. In this episode… Leaders and successful professionals are molded by their mentors and those who support them along the way. For many, no figures are as essential and as beloved as parents. They shape us, and we often follow in their footsteps. As we progress in our careers, we look back and pay our respects to those who influenced us the most. Paula Edgar's mother was a foundational part of her life. Joan Donna Griffith helped Paula develop as a person and a motivated professional. In her own right, Joan was an accomplished assistant VP and office manager and an admired figure in her community. Unfortunately, she was a victim of the 9/11 attacks, which left her family grieving but also to keep in their memories. Paula's father, Peter Griffith, is here to share Joan's legacy and how she impacted many people's lives. In this special episode of Branding Room Only, Paula Edgar is joined by her father, Peter Griffith, to celebrate and remember Paula's mother, Joan Donna Griffith. They talk about how Peter and Joan met, their introduction to the United States, and how they started a family. They dive deep into Joan's legacy, who she was, and how she is missed.Discover how to transform your women's affinity group into a dynamic force that aligns with your organization's mission and empowers women to thrive in leadership roles. Don't miss this opportunity to reshape the future of women's leadership within your organization.February 13 - 12 to 1 pm ETRegister for Is Your Women's Group Winning? at https://www.paulaedgar.com/events/

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar at the Basilica of Saint Mary, offers a reflection on the Fifth Joyful Mystery of the Rosary, the Finding of Jesus in the Temple, during our Communal First Saturday for September. This meditation was recorded on September 2, 2023.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on July 30, 2023.

Joseph and Father Peter talk about making time for Eucharistic adoration, and the difference it has made in their lives.

Father Peter Clem, a parochial vicar at the Basilica, shares a homily during the 14th Sunday of Ordinary Time. It was given in the Basilica on July 9, 2023.

What does it take to build a 7-figure YouTube business on personal finance?Peter Yong aka Mr Money TV spills the tea on STIMY Episode 122 Part 2.That includes telling us:Why he tells all his staff, "I am not your father!"Why he hires 5, works 10 & pays 8;How he creates a moat around himself;How he's built his personal brand;Why his staff actively tell him to NOT hire more staff!Why his entire team knows the financials behind Mr Money TV;Working for free & getting equity?!His dream of building a Hershey town.And that's just some of juicier takes.

Father Peter Clem, a Parochial Vicar at the Basilica of Saint Mary, offers a reflection on the Second Joyful Mystery of the Rosary, the Visitation, during our Communal First Saturday for June. This meditation was recorded on June 3, 2023.

After the news segment of this week's Vatican Insider is Part II of my special guest in the interview segment, Fr. Peter John Cameron, O.P. Many of you know him from his years as editor-in-chief of Magnificat but there's so much more to his story. Born in Rhode Island, raised in Connecticut, he was ordained a Dominican priest in 1986. For 24 years, Father Cameron taught homiletics at St. Joseph's Seminary in Dunwoodie, New York, and three other seminaries. He is now in Rome and currently holds the Carl J. Peter Chair of Homiletics at the Pontifical North American College in Rome where we spoke last week. Homilies are our main focus, of course but the entire conversation is riveting, especially when you learn of Father Peter's theatre background and how that helped him prepare and deliver homilies! Lots of insightful, compelling stories, including on the length of a homily – fascinating! – and the difference between a homily and a sermon. So don't miss that conversation!

For two weeks in March 2023, former U.S. representatives David Bonior (D-MI) and Jim McDermott (D-WA), along with retired Catholic priest Peter Daly, went to Poland and Ukraine to meet with Ukrainians who have fled their homes since Russia's invasion in February 2022. Rep. Bonior and Father Daly joined us to talk about their trip and share stories about the people and refugee organizations they visited along the way.           Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My guest this week is Fr. Peter Heers. Fr. Peter is the founder and current head of Uncut Mountain Press, the founder and head of The Orthodox Ethos. He put together a wonderful video presentation called "Transhumanism: An Orthodox Christian Analysis", in which he does a deep dive into the topic of transhumanism. In this episode we discuss the topic from a historical perspective as well as an Orthodox perspective. Get more from Fr Peter here:   ...and here:   Sponsor: Ollie Adamson Books:   Visit my website:   Donate to the show here: Audio Production by Podsworth Media: Leave us a review and rating on iTunes! Thanks!