Templar Globe

Today’s world is rapidly changing, and many people feel a sense of fear about the direction that world events are moving in. Indeed, there is much negative energy being expressed everywhere, and especially within world events.

Another common feeling that many people have at this time is a sense of helplessness, that there is little that can be done to change the current world situation. In God’s reality however, each soul that is here upon the Earth at this time has a significant impact on the world, more so than you realize.

Within the consciousness of each person is a center of light, love and truth. This is the spark of God’s eternal love and goodness that dwells in each soul. This light is present even in those individuals who have strayed very far from God’s love and goodness.

This precious spark of divinity that you carry, and that each of your fellow human beings on the Earth carries, is a great gift. It is a gift from God, given to you freely that you may live and learn and grow, and that you may fulfill your unique spiritual purpose. This gift is sacred, and your responsibility to this gift is great. Will you use it wisely in these difficult times?

The gift of your consciousness either adds to the light in the world, or detracts from that light. There is no one who does not impact the larger collective consciousness of which you are a part. Though you may feel small and invisible, your presence on the Earth has an enormous impact on all life around you. Your prayers, your love and your light all greatly benefit those around you, in ways you may not be aware of.

At this most magnificent time in human history, there are great dangers and also unprecedented opportunities. God’s light is shining more brightly than ever, illuminating all that has been out of balance. The burdens that you have carried within your heart and soul, some for a very long time, are now ready to be lifted.

Much healing is now possible, that could not happen earlier in human history. The stubborn illusion of separated consciousness is about to be transformed. There is nothing that cannot be healed through the great light of God’s healing that is growing stronger each passing day on the Earth.

There will come some difficult challenges during this time of accelerated change. Will you meet these changes with God and with love in your heart? Now is the dawning of a new day, and you are an active and needed participant in this process. We bless all those who are present on the Earth at this time, for you are deeply loved.

By: Mashubi Rochell

Jorge Manrique y el Marqués de Santillana, poetas de verso inmortal, tuvieron su cuna en esta ciudad, que fue considerada como uno de los focos más importantes de la vida política, cultural, artística y social de la España de los siglos XIII al XVI. Cayetano Enríquez de Salamanca escribía en 1987: “Palencia es una alargada provincia que pocos españoles conocen”. Y no parece que la situación haya cambiado. Injustamente olvidada, sus tierras encierran historia y un inaudito tesoro de obras de arte.

Si una palabra pudiera definir a Palencia sería cultura. En el siglo VII se fundaba una escuela episcopal, y en 1208 Alfonso VIII le concedió el privilegio de ser sede de la primera universidad española.

Palencia es su arte y sus monumentos. La tierra donde el Cid Campeador realizó sus esponsales con doña Jimena en la iglesia de San Miguel, que hoy luce una magnífica torre gótica, La “bien plantada”, la más original de su estilo en España. Es también tierra de conventos, como el de San Francisco y el de San Pablo, o el Monasterio de Las Clarisas, donde Zorrilla sitúa la leyenda de “Margarita la tornera”.

La catedral, bien denominada “La bella desconocida”, equivale a todo un conjunto monumental. Los muros y pilares descansan sobre los restos de la basílica erigida por Wamba en el año 672. Exteriormente adusta, esconde un verdadero tesoro artístico.

La cripta de San Antolín permite contemplar las columnas visigodas y los restos románicos. Se respira un aire de leyenda. El acceso se hace por el transcoro, “obra de hadas”. Dediquenle algunos minutos a contemplar el Cristo de las Batallas, cierren los ojos y vivirán las veladas de los caballeros enfundados en sus armaduras antes de partir al campo de batalla.

Camino a Frómista cruzamos por Monzón de Campos. Merece la pena visitar su castillo. Es la fortaleza más antigua de Castilla, hoy restaurada y convertida en hospedaje.

Seguimos nuestro camino. Sólo cinco kilómetros nos separan de Támara, palenque de la batalla de Tamarón, que dio origen a la unión de los reinos de Castilla y León. Destaca la iglesia de San Hipólito, más bien una catedral. El interior es un verdadero museo. Hay que visitarla a la luz del día, para ello, deben contactar con doña Concha, en el bar del mismo nombre (979-81 02 46). Próxima se encuentra la iglesia del Castillo, románica, ocupada por los Templarios, y en la que se ubica el Museo Etnográfico.

Con el ánimo bien templado se llega a Frómista, la “Villa del Milagro” desde el siglo XV. Es la capital del románico palentino. La iglesia de San Martín, fundada en el siglo XI, está considerada el ejemplar románico más puro: una obra maestra. Es aconsejable visitarla por la mañana, la luz es más adecuada para contemplar los capiteles.

Los templarios

Son interesantes las iglesias de Santa María del Castillo y San Pedro. El queso de la zona tiene merecida fama, y uno de los puntos de compra y exposición es Venta Bofford, al lado de San Martín.

Camino a Carrión es casi obligado detenerse en Villalcazar de Sirga. De gran importancia en el Medievo, y encomienda de los Templarios. Su iglesia de Santa María la Blanca, gran obra del románico ojival, alberga una imagen de la virgen que fue cantada por Alfonso X en Las Cantigas. La capilla de Santiago encierra el sepulcro de un templario, nada habitual, y los del infante Felipe y su mujer Leonor, verdaderas joyas. Lo mejor es contactar con el cura párroco para visitarla. Los reconocidos almendrados y amarguillos los pueden adquirir, al lado del templo, en La Perla Alcazareña.

Historia, arte y cultura es lo que nos espera en la siguiente parada. Carrión de los Condes es una ciudad histórica. Está inscrita en el Romancero, donde campea con la falsedad, hoy diríamos amarillismo histórico, de la afrenta al Cid por parte de los Condes, o Infantes, en el maltrato a sus hijas doña Elvira y doña Sol. En Carrión nació el Marqués de Santillana, autor de las famosas Serranillas. La trilogía artística de Carrión la forman San Zoilo y las iglesias de Santa María y Santiago, hitos en la Ruta Jacobea.

El templo más antiguo es el de Santa María del Camino. En el interior destacan la imagen policromada de Santa María, de rara perfección, y el patetismo del Cristo renano. Cerca se encuentra la iglesia de Santiago, con una impresionante fachada. Conviene visitarlas con el padre José Mariscal.

El Monasterio de San Zoilo, con su fabuloso claustro renacentista, es una joya. Alberga los sepulcros románicos de los condes. En las cercanías de Carrión encontramos las villas romanas de Quintanilla de la Cueza y La Olmeda, en Pedrosa de la Vega, bella residencia con mosaicos polícromos.

por Jose Luis Jimenez, elmundo.es

fantasticas fotos de jorgetutor.com

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Agora que está de moda falar dos misteriosos cabaleiros do Temple, é bon lembrar que en Sarria houbo presencia templaria, cando menos a nivel de posesións, xa que outra cousa diferente é que se teña dado a presencia efectiva de monxes-guerreiros, ou mesmo de asentamentos fixos onde fixesen vida de asistencia aos pelegríns.

Por un documento do 1254, procedente do arquivo catedralicio de Lugo, sabemos que eran entón posesións dos Templarios (« fratres Militiae Templi ») as seguintes igrexas: Vilaescura, Canaval, Espasande, San Xurxo, Canedo, San Sadurniño de Bacorelle, o couto de Santo Estevo de Barbadelo, San Fiz do Ermo, Marzán, Carteiro, San Xoán da Pregación, Valadra, Taboada, Santa Cruz de Asma, Noceda, Deza, San Vicenzo de Sixto…

Ademais de Santo Estevo de Barbadelo, outras posesións existentes arredor da actual vila de Sarria aparecen reflectidas nunha escritura do ano 1371 pola que don Pedro, «conde de Trastamara, de Lemos e de Sarria e do Bolo de Viana, señor de Robreda e pertigueiro maior de Terra de Santiago», fai doazón ó mosteiro de Santa María Madalena de Sarria de «las mis heredades del casar de la Veiga e de Celeiro e de Manán que fueron de la horde del Temple», doazón esta que levou a moitos lectores con presa e pouco rigor a sinalar a fundación do mosteiro da Madalena como atribuíble aos templarios, erro repetido unha e outra vez en publicacións pouco rigorosas, e que xusto é desbotar, pois a honra fundacional correspóndelles a uns anónimos frades italianos a quen os nosos devanceiros veneraron no seu enterramento baixo o nome de corpos santos .

Fortificación

Sobre o asentamento templario en Santo Estevo de Requeixo, preciso sería complementar as referencias documentais con investigacións sobre o terreo, xa que a existencia dun inmediato castro podería apontar á existencia dalgún tipo de fortificación con presenza de monxes-guerreiros, protectores da Ponte Vella e da ponte ou peares no río Barbadelo (hoxe Celeiro). A existencia nas inmediacións da Ponte Vella do microtopónimo Portomarín, leva a considerar que esa ponte tivo, denantes da fundación da Vilanova de Sarria, unha importancia estratéxica e de protección aos pelegríns, pois é moi probable que o primitivo trazado da estrada xacobea pasase por Mendrós (Mendrois en vellos papeis), igrexa de Vilar de Sarria, Campo de Santo Alberte, A Ponte Vella, Pradeda, Corga de Formigueiros, e por Santo Estevo seguise cara Portomarín. O nome de Ponte Vella di, ben ás claras, que na súa orixe é máis antiga que a Ponte Ribeira. Cando se consolida a Vilanova de Sarria o camiño pasa para máis ao sur, á procura do acougo vilego e a asistencia hospitalar dos madalenos.
Os lugares de Veiga do Pozo, Celeiro, Requeixo, e Santo Estevo, xunto coa ampla zona comprendida entre o actual río Celeiro e o Campiño (á altura do cine Cissa) formaban parte da parroquia de San Vicenzo de Maside, incluíndo na súa xurisdicción, andando o tempo, o Hospital de San Lázaro destinado a gafos. Esa parroquia de San Vicenzo de Maside, da que hai referencias aínda no século XVI, desapareceu e foi absorbida pola de San Pedro de Maside, quedando limitada a leste desde 1890 polo río Celeiro, xa que a casa da Veiga (antes Veiga do Pozo) e os barrios de San Lázaro, A Estación e Estrada de Lugo (zona do forno de Pallares) integráronse na parroquia de San Salvador de Sarria. Aqueles monxes-guerreiros da orde do Temple viron ocupadas as súas posesións polo conde de Lemos e Sarria e pola orde de San Xoán, e non quedou deles referencia ningunha na nosa comarca, sinal de que quizá só posuísen herdades isoladas e lugares, e non asentamentos onde axudar aos peleríns.

Agora que todos andan na procura de sinais e misterios ocultos, as únicas ocas esotéricas que por aquí pululan son as da presa do Toleiro, ás que os nenos e os visitantes dedican especial atención, mais non gardan sinais ou elementos arcanos.

Por Xaime López Arias , in Voz de Galicia

The very thought of nuns stirs up images of dark-panelled Victorian rooms, smells of polish and cooking cabbage, the swish of long black robes and the peculiar, creepy softness of holy voices. Silvia Evangelisti, who specialises unpromisingly in “gender history” at the University of East Anglia in England, presents a radically different and intriguing picture.

Her nuns, observed mostly in Europe in the 16th and 17th centuries, are independent, jolly, productive and determined. They never needed men anyway, and rejoiced in the only life that could give them a proper social standing outside marriage. (“A husband or a wall” were the alternatives.) They wrote, painted, put on theatrical shows, sang like angels and ran their own communities as competently as any male—so competently that if any bishop tried to saddle them with rules they did not like, they had a good go at defying him.

Nor were convents dreary places. They were often sited next to palaces and catered for the elite. Noble girls were sent there because it was cheaper and easier than finding a husband for them: the dowry due was sometimes as little as one-tenth of the average marriage-portion in a wealthy house. The girls trooped in in crowds. In Florence, between 1500 and 1800, almost half of the female elite lived in convents; in Milan, three-quarters of the daughters of the aristocracy could be found with rosaries and wimples, piously enclosed.

But they lived in style. Convents, after all, were family affairs, with sisters, aunts and cousins all around. Nuns’ rooms were meant to be spartan, with a hard bed and one devotional painting; but records show they also had tapestries, embroidered pillows, books and spinets and guitars, with en suite latrines and, in some cases, family coats-of-arms over the door. Nuns had their own servants, too, just as they had at home. They received visitors in the parlour; a painting of 1740 shows such a merry scene in one, with fruit-sellers and puppet-shows and children and dogs, that it is hard to tell which group, nuns or visitors, is on which side of the grille.

Because of their aristocratic connections, Ms Evangelisti argues, nuns had real power. They could lobby politicians and network with royals, despite enclosure. A thick glass ceiling made nuns subject not only to bishops and popes but to the supposedly superior firepower of male intellects. Even so, some dared to argue back: Arcangela Tarabotti, for example, scribbling in bed at night books called “Paternal Tyranny” and “Women are No Less Rational than Men”; or Juana Inés de la Cruz, who wrote 65 sonnets and 62 romances and, in 1691, an “Answer” to the Bishop of Puebla that dared to enter the theological lists with him.

Yet even women like Sister Juana, who kept a library in her cell and whose heavy-browed stare still challenges the world to explain itself, were subject to male spiritual advisers. Under their direction nuns kept diaries of ecstasies and prayer, or sometimes painted their visions directly onto canvas. More often than not, in the name of spiritual humility, they were then ordered to destroy what they had done.

That fact accounts in part for the absence from this book of the inner lives of nuns; but it does not wholly explain it. Ms Evangelisti seems uninterested in that side of things. She likes the social, political and cultural whirl; but it was the sealed quiet of the cell that made the real world of these women, and the reader is hardly ever there.

Nor does this book deal much with resistance. A life of enclosed virginity is not natural, and many were forced into it, with their hair cropped short and the door slammed behind them. Some no doubt adjusted and thrived; others did not. Deprived of loving human company, they were supposed to talk instead to medallions of Christ on their breasts. Robbed of the chance to be mothers, they would dress and dandle “Jesus dolls”. In the wilds of Canada an Ursuline nun lamented that native Indian girls, brought into the convent to learn French and wear long dresses, would scale the fence “like squirrels” and run off into the woods. One wonders how many of Ms Evangelisti’s feisty, empowered, intelligent nuns secretly longed to do the same.

Book details
Nuns: A History of Convent Life
By Silvia Evangelisti
Oxford University Press; 301 pages; £17.99. To be published in America by Oxford University Press in May
Buy it on the Templar Globe Store

in Economist

Desde que en el siglo IX se descubrió el sepulcro del Apóstol, miles de peregrinos emprendieron su camino a Santiago por diferentes rutas. Y, a pesar de que la más conocida es el Camino Francés, hay otras. Para reivindicar una de esas rutas más desconocidas, concretamente la Vía de la Plata, un grupo de unas 250 personas recreó la historia de los miles de peregrinos arrieros que durante años llegaron a Compostela a través de ella, escoltados por los caballeros del Temple.

José Antonio Cabrera Díez, (…) prior del Temple, comenta la historia de esta ruta: «Los arrieros llegaban a Santiago a través de la Vía de la Plata para hacer sus transacciones en el rico comercio del norte. Fueron los primeros peregrinos que utilizaron el Camino con fines comerciales, y los templarios los escoltaban para que no les sucediese nada». Cabrera, que se reconoce (…) como «un caballero templario», comenta que «la Vía de la Plata es más antigua, comercialmente hablando, que el Camino Francés» y cree que «no está lo suficientemente considerada».

Por eso se decidieron a hacer esta recreación. «Salimos de Sevilla unos 50 caballeros de la Orden del Temple, con el Maestro (…) de la Orden [en el 2004, Fernando de Toro-Garland] al frente, y vinimos todo el trayecto escoltando a casi 200 peregrinos arrieros para que no les pasara nada ni física ni espiritualmente», comenta Cabrera. Ayer, entraron en el Obradoiro caballeros templarios y arrieros, con sus carros y caballerías, haciendo que todos los que allí se encontraban volvieran la vista atrás casi mil años.

En la actualidad también son muchos los peregrinos que llegan a Santiago, por lo que, un día más, el final de la cola para recoger la compostela estaba frente a la Casa da Balconada. Los últimos de la fila eran el grupo scout Rocafort de Cardedeu (Barcelona), que llegaba después de caminar desde Ponferrada. Albert y Toni, dos de los scouts, comentan su experiencia en el Camino y cuentan que los motivos por los que vinieron fueron, entre otros, «fomentar el espíritu de grupo, adaptarnos a circunstancias no programadas, tomar decisiones consensuadas, conocer otra cultura y pasarlo bien». Toda una serie de objetivos que «conseguimos perfectamente», aseguran orgullosos. El grupo está formado por once chicos y tres monitores: Joan, Isam y Oriol, y aseguran que hacer el Camino es la mejor experiencia que han vivido.

Todos los peregrinos aseguran que el Camino es un lugar ideal para conocer gente y hacer amigos, de esos de los de «para toda la vida». Al menos eso era lo que comentaban los chicos del grupo de scouts de Cardedeu, que llegaron a Santiago con dos «miembros» más: Carme y Mar. Estas dos chicas de Barcelona caminaron desde León con tres de sus once hermanos, Núria, Roser y Pere y con un primo, Jaime. «Veraneamos la segunda quincena de agosto con nuestra familia en Xuño, así que decidimos que nosotros ya nos veníamos antes a Galicia, haciendo el Camino de Santiago», comenta Mar. En Sarria conocieron a los chicos del grupo scout. Desde allí, hicieron la ruta juntos hasta Compostela y ahora aseguran, sonriendo, que «lo mejor del Camino es la gente».

Por Miriam Louzao, Voz de Galicia, por ocasion de la peregrinación del 2004

fotos: Luis Matos (c)

Spiritual enlightenment is the basic goal of any spiritual practice that you undertake. Spiritual enlightenment marks the culminating point of your practices: when one attains spiritual enlightenment, one feels the unity of soul with everything and all the mental and physical engagements are left aside. Spiritual enlightenment is the possession of highly evolved souls, and great spiritual masters of the whole world propagate the fundamentals that they experience through spiritual enlightenment.

As it seems, spiritual enlightenment is often categorized into levels for practical purposes. Highest stage of spiritual enlightenment marks the attainment of God, but still there are certain levels through which the individual needs to evolve. It is like rising from the levels of animality to which we often tend to degrade ourselves. From the levels of animality, we rise to the level of humanity, which constitutes our true nature. And further from humanity to divinity, where we merge back in the source from where we have come. Let us, for our practical purpose, put them in stages and analyze the state of being in each stage:

The first stage of spiritual enlightenment
At the very first level of spiritual enlightenment, the individual starts experiencing the reality as it is. It means that your mind ceases to interfere with what you are experiencing. Quite often, we are engaged in continuous talk, gossip, analyzing the environment around us, planning about future, and so on. However, when spiritual enlightenment dawns on your being, you take everything as it is.

The second stage of spiritual enlightenment
At the second stage of spiritual enlightenment, you feel yourself in almost everything around you. You feel that you have some connection to every object and every individual in the world. It is like losing your own individuality. Spiritual enlightenment has its culmination at merging the soul in Supreme Soul, and this is where you start experiencing it. You feel that you are not individual anymore and not separate from anything. You feel that you are in everything and everything is just a part of the Supreme Soul from where you also have emerged.

The third stage of spiritual enlightenment
At the third stage of spiritual enlightenment, you no longer feel connected to everything but realize you are everything. Because spiritual enlightenment gives you the experience of oneness with God, you feel that you are not separate from anything. You are not merely the body, sense, mind, and faculty of intellect: you are what everything else is. This stage of spiritual enlightenment imparts the direct experience of oneness.

Spiritual enlightenment is the fruit that sets you free, as you lose all wants and wishes to receive the fruits of your actions. You feel the bliss of completeness through spiritual enlightenment. At first it gives you the feeling that you need “Light”. At the next stage, you feel that you are merging in “Light”. At the culminating stage, you feel that you are no more separated from “Light”—you and “Light” are one.

By: Spiritual Now Editors

Situada en las tierras bajas pacenses, esta ciudad atesora el encanto de la extremadura más abierta. Es cuna de conquistadores, y la tradición y la monumentalidad cimentan su belleza.

Dar nuevos mundos al mundo fue uno de los empeños que impulsaron a los navegantes españoles y portugueses a lanzarse a la locura de buscarle caminos al mar en los siglos XV y XVI. Los lusitanos eligieron para iniciar sus expediciones el remate más meridional del territorio algarveño, cerca de Sagres. Y los españoles no zarparían lejos de allí: a las costas onubenses arribaron muchos extremeños, hombres muy de tierra adentro, de rostro enjuto y porte elegante, que pronto escribieron algunas de las historias más notables y atroces de la conquista.

Uno de ellos nació aquí, en Jerez de los Caballeros, y se le recuerda, a mayor honra, por ser el descubridor del Océano Pacífico. Su nombre, Vasco Núñez de Balboa. Su truculenta historia de intrigas y alianzas, que acabó en ejecución por mandato real, no viene al caso pero recuerda que fue la necesidad, y no la llamada del piélago, la que empujó a la mayoría en la aventura ultramarina. La misma penuria que siglos después arrojaría a sus paisanos hacia Cuba y las Filipinas. Y luego hacia Alemania. O hacia Barcelona y Madrid.

CASTILLO TEMPLARIO
Las piedras, su mensaje obstinado y frío, confirman que los romanos anduvieron, y mucho, por la zona. Desde siempre las abuelas han corrido la leyenda de una especie de El Dorado, en versión extremeña, perdido por estas dehesas, y los niños recuerdan haberse enzarzado en estériles batallas con alguna espada de noble origen encontrada debajo del olivo familiar. El actual Jerez de los Caballeros fue en sus orígenes, una vez vencida la resistencia de Viriato por los romanos, la Fama Iulia de esa época, y tanto la villa del Pomar como sus mosaicos y otros vestigios así lo desvelan.

Luego los árabes, que allí tomaron posada durante cerca de cinco siglos, levantaron un alcázar, abrieron arcos, trazaron calles, impartieron cultura y guerrearon entre ellos hasta que Alfonso IX, en el año 1230, la ganó para la causa cristiana y se la entregó en custodia a la orden del Temple, otorgándole fueros. A aquellos caballeros templarios debe, aparte de su apellido, el reforzamiento de la muralla, la fortaleza edificada sobre el alcázar musulmán y, sobre todo, su porte señorial.

Hay un parque de la Morería que sostiene, como lo hacen las cimbras y el intrincado callejero de algunas zonas, la herencia árabe. Hay, también, una Torre Sangrienta donde cuenta la tradición oral que fueron degollados los templarios que se opusieron a la disolución ordenada por Clemente V. Y hay, sobre todo, un alarde de cimborrios y torres erguido sobre la cal y los tejados que resulta abrumador. Tanto los templos como los palacios y los conventos crecieron, fruto de remodelaciones o ampliaciones, durante la época barroca, hasta bien entrado el siglo XVIII.

JOYAS ARTÍSTICAS
La fuerte influencia que tradicionalmente ha ejercido Sevilla, hoy extendida a la formación universitaria y el turismo, se manifiesta en el barroco de sus edificios religiosos más emblemáticos, entre ellos, las iglesias de San Miguel y la de San Bartolomé, cuya fachada es un derroche de filigranas y luminoso ornamento en barro vidriado. O la de Santa María.
En cuanto a los conventos, aunque llegó a tener hasta nueve, ya sólo quedan un puñado de ellos: el de Nuestra Señora de Gracia, que destaca por su portada ojival; o el de San Agustín, en la actualidad transmutado en oficina de información turística. Si en Jerez de los Caballeros encuentra las cancelas abiertas no desconfíe, es señal de hospitalidad, que en esta tierra aún se da. Y mucha.

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NO OLVIDE

La Semana Santa jerezana es tradición y fervor. Los pasos recorren sus angostas calles desde el domingo de Ramos al de Resurrección. Es el momento ideal para escuchar saetas en una tierra de gran tradición flamenca.

Está en el territorio del cerdo ibérico: al jamón y al lomo, únale la caldereta de cordero, las empanadillas de almendra molida, el “hornazo”, las “perrunillas”, las “bollas de leche” y los “piñonates”. Podrá degustarlos en El Capi (924 731 200), La Cazuela (924 731 636) o el Balboa (924 750 711).

Hay sólo dos hoteles en Jerez: el Oasis (924 731 244) y Los Templarios (924 731 636). Si prefiere el alojamiento rural, la Finca Pallarés (924 422 048), en Táliga, o la Hospedería Convento La Parra (924 682 692).

Zafra, Fregenal de la Sierra, Burguillos del Cerro, Monesterio o Llerena, localidades que se encuentran cerca y están llenas de interesantes conjuntos monumentales y castillos.

por Pepo Paz Saz in elmundo.es

Los peregrinos que están realizando estos días las últimas etapas del camino Francés seguro que se vieron sorprendidos por la presencia de 6 romeros que hacen la ruta a caballo y que van vestidos como los antiguos caballeros Templarios.

Este original grupo está compuesto por actores de de un grupo de espectáculos medievales de Villajoyosa (Alicante), de los que habitualmente participan en Lugo cuando se celebra el Arde Lucus.

En su paso por Sarria tuvieron que buscar un albergue que dispusiera de instalaciones adecuadas para los caballos y uno de los pocos que existen es el Paloma y Leña, situado a la entrada de la villa desde Samos.

En su periplo no pueden dejar de ensayar y por tanto solicitaron permiso a los responsables del establecimiento para preparar alguna de sus espectaculares actuaciones.

El acto se celebró en la tarde de ayer y las escasas y privilegiadas personas que pudieron presenciarlo pudieron ver un adelanto de lo que será este año el Arde Lucus.

in Voz de Galicia

The priest piously swings the censer that doles out spurts of white smoke, saturating the entire church with fragrance. The silence graced by the regular, gentle click of the chain of censer charges the atmosphere with holy fear. I‘m thrown into adoration. Isn’t the same feeling of Isaiah, Ezekiel and Jeremiah when they tasted the splendour of God at the beginning of their prophecy? But there is another thing that connects me to this past.

We are celebrating Easter, the liberating act of God started with the Jews; in fact, they too are celebrating Passover –quite the same thing. This is good reason to rejoice together. But then a phrase from a familiar psalm echoes in my head: We have no place to offer sacrifice or find mercy. I become sad, feeling with many among Jews still lamenting in this way. They cannot celebrate Passover as they would have love to.

Through their sad history Jews have lost the Temple ; affecting in consequence other important elements of their religion such as priesthood and Sacrifice. Not only is this a shame to the religion but also to their sense of pride as a nation.

The disappearance of such aspects has therefore lamentably modified, if not wounded, the religion. Awareness of this fact, possibly, not only makes you understand them but also change your attitude towards them.

The Exodus, that took place on 15th of Nisan 2448 according to one calculation, is the point of departure in the Jewish people’s relationship with God. It’s not just some historic reference but the very hinge on which swings their hope for the future despite their oppressed history. That’s why Passover is the most celebrated feast among Jews, especially for those in Diaspora. After the freedom from the slavery of over 200 years a Jewish nation was born.

The verb pasàch means “he passed over” which contextually means “he hovered over, guarding.” Burrowing from Isaiah: “As birds hovering, so will the Lord of hosts protect Jerusalem; He will deliver it as He protects it, He will rescue it as He passes over” ( Isaiah. 31:5).

Pesach, as noun, also refers to the paschal lamb (Korban Pesach) whose blood was smeared on the lintel of the houses of the Israelites and the meat eaten by the family before the march for freedom. Since then Jews have celebrated this event. The Passover holiday begins on 14th sunset of Nisan, the 7th Month in Jewish calendar, and continues for seven days. This year, the Passover starts on 2nd April.

At the time of the Temple , on the afternoon of the 14th of day of Nisan, a family offered a lamb which was slaughtered in the Temple and given back to the family that roasted its lamb in a portable clay stove and ate it that night on 15th.

Today, in the absence of the Temple, some Jews use symbolic food like roasted shank bone of a lamb, Others deeply marked by the absence of the Temple use chicken wing or neck; which they eat with unleavened bread, Matzo and bitter herbs, Maror. Why unleavened bread.

One explanation is that there was no time to allow the dough to rise and thus flat bread, matzo, is a reminder of the Exodus. Others say matzo was bread for the journey for it preserved well and was light to carry. But its other name is profoundly meaningful, Lechem Oni - or poor man`s bread. In this way, Passover is reminder of the poverty of being slave and thus an invitation to be humble, appreciate the freedom rather than being puffed up in oneself like leavened bread.

The Seder meal, which is festival meal, is eaten in a certain order during which four different cups of wine, or grape juice, are drunk each linked to something meaning.

The First Cup is for Kiddush, a prayer of blessing over a cup of wine before the festival meal; the Second Cup is connected with narrating Exodus story - and you shall tell the story of the Exodus to your children and to your children’s children (cf Ex 12:26-27), hence, the head of the family narrates the story; the Third Cup concludes Birkat Hamazon, a grace after meal –And you shall eat and you shall be satisfied. And you shall bless YHWH, your God, for the good land he has given you (Deut 8:10); and the Fourth Cup is associated with Hallel, which is the joyful chanting of Psalms 113 through 118, as an expression of joy.

The situation of the Jews today is a bit like the question of Isaac to his father Abraham: we have the fire and the wood, where is the lamb? Jews are not short of lambs, and they have the priests but the Temple .

Jews have not offered the sacrifice from 2nd century. They stopped in 70 A.D after the Romans destroyed the Temple and resumed for some time from 132-135 AD during the war. They can’t offer the sacrifice wherever they want.

Hence, the Temple occupied a special place in the lives and faith of Jews. It’s a sign of God’s presence among them. Even in exile, it was a motivation for returning, to reconstruct it and organize their lives around it.

Today Jews go to the synagogue, which was not a traditional, official place of worship. It was used by those who lived far from Jerusalem where they could only read the law, pray but no sacrifice. That is why people came on pilgrimage to Jerusalem especially on important feasts.

The sacerdotal ministry is another victim of the circumstance. There are still priests in Judaism, those from the tribe of Levi – the Cohen, those descended from Aaron, the priest ordained by God. But they do not exercise their priestly duties causing a vacuum as people have teachers of the Law who are not officially presidents at prayer. And the rituals that remain possibly are those adapted to circumstances like when they were in exile.

Some Jews, especially Orthodox Jews, pray for the restoration of the Temple and the ritual sacrifice.

The Wailing Wall –western side of the Temple Mount is that all the Jews can access of their sacred place. There, they do their frantic prayer, certainly, employing God who promised to give them land where they will not only prosper but worship him as well. At the site of the Temple stands an imposing Mosque where Jews would dare not approach; it is heavily guarded by police.

Witnessing this reality, you appreciate better the complexity of the problem. No longer victim of media propaganda; you are restrained from rush judgment; you feel with the people and instead of condemning you extend a helping hand in restoring peace for all the people of the land rather than advancing prejudiced, partisan position.

Now, when the young Jews come chanting in loud speakers full blast, through the Old City to the entrance of the Mosque esplanade; the words we have no place to offer sacrifice or find mercy soak my heart and I just can’t afford getting irritated as before for their cause, without playing down many other issues of concern involved, is certainly greater than my petite pre-occupations.

Evans K. Chama 2007

Missionary of Africa studying Theology in Jerusalem

19 mars 1314: Jacques de Molay, Grand-Maître de l’Ordre du Temple, périt sur le bûcher

Par la bulle “Vox in excelso” du 3 avril 1312, le pape Clément V, moins combatif que son prédécesseur Boniface VIII, avait abandonné les Templiers à la justice du roi de France. Tout en reconnaissant qu’il n’y avait pas dans le dossier transmis par les juristes de Philippe le Bel matière à prononcer une condamnation canonique, il n’en décidait pas moins la suppression pure et simple de l’Ordre du Temple. Restait à statuer sur le sort des Templiers emprisonnés. Le pape avait souhaité juger lui-même les dignitaires de l’Ordre, dont le Grand-Maître Jacques de Molay. Pendant que la plupart de leurs compagnons étaient libérés après avoir sacrifié à l’humiliante cérémonie des aveux, ils attendirent deux ans en prison que trois cardinaux viennent instruire leur affaire.

Le 19 mars 1314, ils furent conduits sur le parvis de Notre-Dame pour y entendre la sentence: la prison à perpétuité. Alors, Molay et le précepteur de Normandie Geoffroy de Charnay eurent un sursaut de dignité. Ils revinrent sur leurs aveux, proclamèrent devant la foule et les cardinaux que l’Ordre n’était pas coupable des péchés dont on l’avait chargé, qu’il était “saint” et qu’eux-mêmes n’avaient avoué que pour sauver leur vie. C’était le relaps. Dans l’après-midi, un Conseil royal convoqué à la hâte constata le fait et décida l’exécution immédiate des deux hommes. On dressa rapidement, alors que le soir tombait, un bûcher sur l’île aux Juifs, aujourd’hui rattachée à l’île de la Cité. A l’heure du supplice, Jacques de Molay et Geoffroy de Charnay impressionnèrent les assistants par leur courage, ce courage qui leur avait fait si cruellement défaut lorsqu’il s’était agi de défendre l’Ordre du Temple, lors des premières attaques portées contre lui dix ans auparavant.

For an era still associated with jingoism, stifling morality laced with hypocrisy and a fondness for stuffing exotic animals, Victorian Britain is a surprisingly fertile source of inspiration for the country’s politicians. When pondering how to improve local government they look wistfully at the great Victorian town halls. When trying to get charities to do the work of welfare bureaucracies they remember that Victorian do-gooders managed poorhouses and hospitals. On February 15th the government announced a scheme to match private donations to universities with taxpayers’ money, in the hope of stimulating an era of endowments not seen since, well, Victorian industrialists used their fortunes to found new colleges for higher education.

The details of the proposal, which will involve £200m ($390m) of government money over three years, are not so imperial, alas. Each institution’s share will be capped, preventing Oxford or Cambridge from scooping the pot. And not all alumni donations will be treated equally: universities which are already good fundraisers (in British terms) will receive less government money for every pound donated, which may sound fair but will also penalise success. This will not make up much of the £10-billion gap between the endowments of Harvard and Cambridge, the richest universities in America and Britain, and is unlikely to inspire British alumni to become as munificent as America’s.

When called upon to assist other causes, though, Britons are generous: they come near the top of philanthropic league tables (see chart). America is out in front, but the extra percentage point of its GDP that individuals deposit in rattling tins hardly reflects the much lighter taxes they pay. Most in Europe already show solidarity by financing reasonably comprehensive welfare states; and Britons give more than people in countries with similar overall tax burdens, such as Germany. Medical-research charities consistently come top of the list of favoured causes, along with almost anything to do with animals.

If the question is switched to who gives, rather than how much, however, the picture looks less good. Britain has some philanthropists who are magnificently generous: Sir Tom Hunter, a Scottish entrepreneur who founded a chain of sportswear shops, Robert Edmiston, who made a fortune importing Japanese cars, and Sir Elton John, patron saint of the white piano, all recently parted with over 10% of their recorded wealth, according to the Sunday Times rich list. But surveys, which are the only way of collecting numbers in a country where much of the giving does not leave a paper trail with the taxman, show that giving is actually inversely correlated with income. This leads to odd findings, such as that Sunderland, Blackpool and Motherwell, in Britain’s relatively straitened north, are the most generous towns in Britain, measured by the proportion of people who give, and Croydon, Ilford and Kingston-upon-Thames in the prosperous south are among the meanest.

“Charities are increasingly reliant on a small core of givers,” says Karl Wilding, of the National Council for Voluntary Organisations (NCVO). His organisation reckons that just over 1.5m people give 42p of every pound that is donated. A separate study, by the Institute for Philanthropy, a lobbying group, shows that the bulk of all giving is done by a discrete group who go to church, identify with one of the main political parties and read a broadsheet (quality) newspaper, all of which have become minority pursuits. Those who do give have to donate more to make up for the decline in their numbers.

This is odd, for Britain has most of the conditions needed to prise open wallets. The first is a tax system that provides incentives to givers. Gift Aid allows charities to claim back the basic rate of tax on donations from taxpayers, and richer taxpayers who give to charities to reclaim the difference between the higher and the basic marginal tax rates. “Payroll giving” allows people to deduct donations from their salaries before tax, so a gift of £100 costs a higher-rate taxpayer £60 and a basic-rate taxpayer £78. Neither of these schemes has had the desired effect. Charities forgo about £700m a year because their donors do not sign up for Gift Aid. And take-up of payroll giving has been poor: more money was raised by raffles last year than was given this way.

Second, Britain has plenty of wealthy potential donors. According to the most recent version of the Boston Consulting Group’s annual wealth report, Britain has some 440,000 households with more than $1m in financial assets. America and Japan have more swells, but they also have larger populations. Britain comes third on this international rich list, with 33% more millionaire households than bigger Germany and 69% more than France.

It is hard to know how much of their wealth these super-rich, not all of them British citizens, are giving away. The American-style conspicuous charity that fundraisers for British good causes long for has made a limited appearance. Once a year, for example, Arpad Busson, a French financier based in London, gives a ball at which rich folk outbid each other for donated extravagances. But this has not been enough to transform the overall level of giving, which has just about kept pace with the rate of wealth creation during a 15-year economic boom, but no more than that. The men with bushy whiskers and purposeful stares who founded so many British institutions are not coming back any time soon.

in The Economist

Gluers and sawyers from the furniture factories in Galax near the mountains of Virginia lost their jobs last year when American retailers decided they could find a better supplier in China. At the other end of the furniture industry Robert Nardelli lost his job this month when Home Depot decided it could find a better chief executive in his deputy. But any likeness ends there. Mr Nardelli’s exit was as extravagantly rewarded as his occupation of the corner office had been. Next to his $210m severance pay, the redundant woodworkers’ packages were mean to the point of provocation.

That’s the way it goes all over the rich world. Since 2001 the pay of the typical worker in the United States has been stuck, with real wages growing less than half as fast as productivity. By contrast, the executive types gathering for the World Economic Forum in Davos in Switzerland have enjoyed a Beckhamesque bonanza. If you look back 20 years, the total pay of the typical top American manager has increased from roughly 40 times the average—the level for four decades—to 110 times the average now.

These are the glory days of global capitalism. The mix of technology and economic integration transforming the world has created unparalleled prosperity. In the past five years the world has seen faster growth than at any time since the early 1970s. In China each person now produces four times as much as in the early 1990s. Having joined the global labour force, hundreds of millions of people in developing countries have won the chance to escape squalor and poverty. Hundreds of millions more stand to join them.

That promises to improve the lot of humanity as a whole incalculably. But in the rich world labour’s share of GDP has fallen to historic lows, while profits are soaring. A clamour is abroad that Mr Nardelli and his friends among the top hundredth—or even the top thousandth—of the population are seizing the lion’s share of globalisation’s gains. Meanwhile everyone else—not just blue-collar factory workers but also the wider office-working middle class—shuffles along, grimly waiting for the next round of cost-cuts. They are not happy.

Fear and clothing
Signs of a backlash abound. Stephen Roach, the chief economist at Morgan Stanley, has counted 27 pieces of anti-China legislation in Congress since early 2005. The German Marshall Fund found last year that, although most people still say they favour trade, more than half of Americans want to protect companies from foreign competition even if that slows growth. In a hint of labour’s possible resurgence, the House of Representatives has just voted to raise the federal minimum wage for the first time in a decade. Even Japan is alarmed about inequality, stagnant wages and jobs going to China. Europe has tied itself in knots trying to “manage” trade in Chinese textiles. The Doha round of trade talks is dying.

What is to be done about this poisonous mix? If globalisation depends upon voters who, as workers, no longer think they gain from it, how long before democracies start to put up barriers to trade? If all the riches go to the summit of society and that summit seems beyond everybody else’s reach, are the wealth-creators under threat?

Should you blame China or your computer?
The panic comes in part from a rush to lump all the blame on globalisation. Technology—an even less resistible force—is also destroying white- and blue-collar tasks in a puff of automation and may play a bigger role in explaining rising wage inequality and the sluggish growth of middling wages. The distinctions between technology and globalisation count, if only because people tend to welcome computers but condemn foreigners (whether as competitors or immigrants). That makes technology easier to defend.

For economists, the debate about whether technology or globalisation is responsible for capital’s rewards outpacing those of labour is crucial, complicated and unresolved. One school, which blames globalisation, argues that the rocketing profits and sluggish middling wages of the past few years are the long-lasting results of trade, as all those new developing-country workers enter the labour market. This school says that technology helps workers by increasing their productivity and eventually their wages. The opposing school retorts that technology does not increase wages immediately, and some sorts of information technology seem to boost the returns to capital instead (think of how much more a dollar’s worth of computing power can do these days). And it questions whether Western incomes will remain flat: recent wage rises in America and pay claims in Europe and Japan may start to reverse the balance back away from capital.

In practice, it is hard to parcel out the blame between technology and globalisation, because the two are so intertwined. Ask IBM, which is hastily shipping bits of its services arm to India; or the call-centre worker who sees off the threat of his job going abroad by settling for only a tiny pay rise. And from a policymaker’s point of view, it matters little what is causing the pain: the remedies are broadly the same.

The first rule is to avoid harming the very miracle that generates so much wealth. Take for instance the arguments about high executive pay. Some say this is simply a matter of governance—and forcing company boards to work better. If only it were that simple. High pay is, by and large, the price needed to attract and motivate gifted managers, as our special report argues in this issue. The abuses of companies such as Home Depot obscure how most high pay has been caused not by powerful bosses fixing their own wages, but by the changing job of the chief executive, the growth of large companies and the competitive market for talent. Executive-pay restrictions would not put that horse back in its box, but they would harm companies.

(more…)

En la antaño conflictiva frontera entre Aragón y Navarra, Uncastillo fue el lugar elegido: los monumentos invadieron sus calles.

El primer encontronazo con Uncastillo raramente decepciona. Poco importa que lleguemos a él desde las accidentadas carreteras del norte, o que lo hagamos desde las llaneras vías del sur, la sensación es siempre la misma: esta villa es demasiado bella, demasiado auténtica como para pasar desapercibida.

La historia de Uncastillo no dista demasiado de la de otros tantos burgos castellanos. Allí hubo pugnas -primero contra musulmanes, luego contra los vecinos navarros-, paz y después gloria, mucha gloria. Ésta llegó en el siglo XII y sembró de arte románico este cruce de caminos en el que los ríos Riguel y Cadenas se dan la mano. El bondadoso paso del tiempo se encargó del resto y propició que Uncastillo, a día de hoy, luzca callejas, palacios y templos -hasta seis- con el mismo esplendor que en la Edad Media. Más que un conjunto de monumentos, la ciudad es un monumento en sí mismo en el que los rincones con solera, las ventanas geminadas y la misteriosa iconografía románica son la norma. Sirva de ejemplo el pórtico de la iglesia de Santa María la Mayor, templo madre y estandarte de uno de los mayores tesoros del pueblo. Es allí, en la portada meridional, donde los visitantes se agolpan para escrutar con la mirada las figurillas, las escenas bíblicas, los animales y las bestias que un transgresor cantero esculpió y donde podrán adivinar algún que otro guiño sexual.

Los edificios románicos se suceden y amontonan en los diferentes barrios, cada uno con su propia seña de identidad: si San Juan destaca por sus magníficas vistas y las tumbas antropomórficas sobre las que se asienta; San Martín hace gala del centro de interpretación de arte religioso que alberga en su interior. De San Felices nos quedamos con los relieves de sus tímpanos y del paseo que habremos de dar para llegar hasta él: no hay mejor excusa para recorrer la calle de Larués, fisgar por la judería o dar vueltas por las rúas de Roncesvalles, Mediavilla y Barrionuevo.

El abandono de Uncastillo debe hacerse por la carretera que nos conduce a la vecina Sos del Rey Católico. No sólo por la obligada visita a esta otra ciudad tallada en piedra sino por dejarse caer por San Lorenzo, en las afueras de Uncastillo. En el lugar no hemos de buscar una iglesia pues no la encontraremos: de San Lorenzo apenas sobreviven unos muros y un pórtico con capiteles de traza monstruosa. No extrañará entonces su vinculación a los caballeros templarios, inquietante detalle final para este tesoro del medievo aragonés.

GUÍA

CÓMO LLEGAR: Uncastillo pace entre Huesca y Pamplona, a poco más de 100 kilómetros al Norte de Zaragoza. Desde la capital maña, cogeremos la A-68 dirección Logroño hasta la salida 19, donde enlazaremos con la A-127 dirección Ejea de los Caballeros y Sádaba. En ésta nace la A-1202 que nos conducirá hasta Uncastillo.
DÓNDE DORMIR: Posada de Turismo Rural La Pastora (Roncesvalles, 1. Tfno. 976 67 94 99. Internet: www.lapastora.net). Casona típica, rehabilitada con exquisito gusto y atendida con mimo. Caserón El Remedio (San Felices, 31. Tfnos. 976 67 94 62 / 660 56 96 50. Internet: www.caseron-elremedio.com). Caserón recuperado para el turismo rural en el que el estilo rústico se combina con el moderno.

DÓNDE COMER: Hostería Uncastello (Plaza de la Villa, 24. Tfno: 976 67 91 05). Platos tradicionales aragoneses (migas, sopa de cocido, ternasco…).

MÁS INFORMACIÓN: Oficina de Turismo de Uncastillo, situada en la iglesia de San Martín (Tfno. 976 679 061) junto al Centro de Arte Religioso del Pirineo. Internet: www.ciderprepirineo.org / www.uncastillo.es). Cierra lunes y martes.

Por Gontzal Largo; elmundo.es