Templar Globe

A Saint and Compassion Fatigue …

There is a story told about St. Vincent de Paul. Perhaps it’s partly myth, but its challenge is real nonetheless.

Vincent once gave an instruction to his religious community that sounded something like this: “When the demands of life seem unfair to you, when you are exhausted and have to pull yourself out of bed yet another time to do some act of service, do it gladly, without counting the cost and without self-pity, for if you persevere in serving others, in giving yourself to the poor, if you persevere to the point of completely spending yourself, perhaps someday the poor will find it in their hearts to forgive you. For it is more blessed to give than to receive and it is also a lot easier.”

That might sound curious. Why do the poor need to forgive us? For what do we need to be forgiven? Shouldn’t we feel good about serving others?

All of us, I suspect, have a pretty good sense of what he means. We all know there is a certain humiliation in needing to receive, just as there is a certain pride in being able to give.

The things we often complain about are really our greatest blessings: What is worse than being too busy? Having nothing to do. What is more painful than having to give away something we own? Having nothing to give away. What is harder than being dragged out of bed to minister to someone in need? Being the person who is in bed and who needs someone to help him or her.

What is harder than being brought to our knees by the demands of those around us for our time and energy? Being on our knees asking someone else for his or her time and energy. It is more blessed to be able to give than to receive and it is easier. But there’s more.

There is a certain divine power, literally, in being able to give. The one who gives gets to be God or, at very least, to feel like God. That’s not an overstatement. God is the source of all that is, the source of all gift. When we are in a position to give, we mediate divine power and we get to feel that power. Whenever we act like God, we get to feel like God.

Yet, the irony is that our very gifts and strengths, if not given over with the proper attitude, can easily make others feel inferior. It is important to understand this so that we are more careful to not serve others in ways that demean them. It is not automatic, nor easy, to give a gift in a way that does not shame the recipient. Vincent de Paul’s counsel highlights this caution.

But there’s a second lesson here as well. Vincent de Paul meant this too as an antidote to self-pity. For anyone who is in a giving role (a parent, a minister, a teacher, a nurse, a social worker, an advocate for justice, a philanthropist, a politician), there is the temptation to fall into self-pity: “Look at all I am doing! I do all this for others, but nobody is doing anything for me. I am so tired. Is there no end to this? Am I the only one who cares? This is asking more of me than is fair. I have my own problems that I should tend to.”

It is easy, especially when one is tired and frustrated by lack of support, to lose heart, begin to feel sorry for oneself and to eventually feel that we are being unfairly used by others, that we are being asked to give more than our share.

That is very common. Caregivers often feel victimized by those to whom they are giving of themselves. We’ve even coined some terms for this: “compassion fatigue,” “compassion burnout.” Not surprisingly, many good people resent the demands of the poor: the welfare system, the push by various groups for their rights, the pressure for more immigration, the drain that the sick put on the energy and money of our society, the cost of repairing the damage done by youthful vandals and so on.

The temptation is to give up and give in - give up on going the extra mile and give in to the temptation to resign and take care of ourselves.

And so Vincent de Paul’s counsel should be told and retold: If we do not continue to serve the poor, despite our tiredness and self-pity, the poor will never find it in their hearts to forgive us. We need to remember that it is more blessed to give than to receive and it is also easier.

Portraits of Vincent de Paul show him with a strong, warm face, a face that everywhere suggests a comfortable friendliness. He looks like a man you would want over for dinner. But if you had him over for dinner, you might want to make sure that you didn’t complain about the unfairness of life.

by FR. RON ROLHEISER, omi

I wonder if the people sitting in churches this [last] week understand how very much Jesus of Nazareth’s last week of life was driven by clashes pertaining to wealth and poverty, freedom and tyranny. Probably not. Theologians generally don’t study history. Historians usually don’t study theology, and neither study economics.

Here’s what happened: For over half of a millennium, Israel had been passed from empire to empire. Each new world power treated Jerusalem as a cash cow, diverting its wealth into imperial coffers in order to finance imperial ambitions. First there was Assyria, then Babylon, Persia, and Macedonia. Then finally Rome was given its turn. It was at this time that Jesus of Nazareth came into the world.
Rome didn’t care much about places like Nazareth; it was much more interested in Jerusalem. Jerusalem was a company town, and the company was The Temple. The Temple was the Herod family business, and it had been created for one reason and one reason only — to squeeze enough money out of the region for Herod and his dynasty to buy their way back into favor with Caesar Augustus.

Rome needed money to buy off the urban mob, and Herod needed Rome to keep down the Palestinian rabble. And so when the people came to Jerusalem to make their offerings to God, they were met at each step in the process of religious devotion with another checkpoint at which tolls were extracted. The journey to Jerusalem often meant crossing a Roman checkpoint — ka-ching! Since the trip was long and hard on the animals, it was better to travel light and buy the sacrifices in Jerusalem — ka-ching! You can’t use pagan Roman coins for that sort of thing, of course, so off to the money-changers — ka-ching again. Tithes, offerings, sacrifices, festivals, Rome got her cut — ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching. In fact, that’s the only reason there even was a temple or a King Herod. Rome would have long ago plundered it and killed him, except you don’t kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.

If the temple was the bridge between heaven and earth, Herod was the troll who lived under the bridge. Every pilgrim was forced to pay the toll. That’s what kept Herod in power: no ka-ching, no king. Ordinary Jews hated the regime, and the anger was boiling over, but Herod didn’t care what they thought; he had Rome on his side.

Into this world steps the young son of a Galilean entrepreneur. Joseph was a tekton , a skilled contractor. His adopted son, Jesus, was a rabbi, who gathered around him a small group of apprentices (mathetai , disciples) and set off for Jerusalem. Along the way he said and did things that implied that the temple was losing its status as the exclusive provider of access to the presence of God. Most Jews had already come to similar conclusions. They knew the Temple was corrupt, and turned to small-group Torah study as an alternative. Jesus adopted and intensified this new worship model. He created a network of small, nimble, and self-replicating clusters of people who could study and pray together and care for the poor. In his words: “Wherever two or more are gathered in my name, I am there in the midst of them.” This threatened the Templar monopoly.

The Temple hierarchy was enraged by this. Their livelihood was at risk. Eventually Jesus went a step farther and staged a protest in which he overturned the foreign-exchange tables at the Temple where Roman coins were swapped for Jewish ones. The Temple was forced to shut down. That was the last straw. Jesus had demonstrated in a graphic, physical way that the Temple really did run on money. Even worse, he had demonstrated that during the time that The Temple, Inc. ceased to function the world still rolled along just fine without it.
Such knowledge could destabilize the entire world. Palestine was ungovernable without the Herodian Templar system, and an ungovernable Palestine meant the gold would cease to flow to Rome. It also meant the grain would cease to cross the Holy Land. As our tanks and ships run on oil, their horses and galley slaves ran on grain.

The Temple bureaucrats used their superior war chest to pay activists to call for Jesus’ execution, and even to bribe witnesses. The Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, knew how to keep his job in middle management — keep the money flowing to Rome. That meant killing Jesus.
Jesus was a politically sophisticated man. He knew what was coming.

He faced the executioners bravely. He accepted, even embraced his death, and overcame it. By doing this he took the stinger out of Jerusalem and Rome. Behind all the taxes and tolls, price controls, and monopolies, and behind the governors and tetrarchs and consuls and emperors, lurked a tax-hungry greed, and the greed was backed up by the threat of death. The emperor’s colossal ego was fed by the people of Rome; the Romans were fed by the bread and circuses; the bread and circuses were fed by the armies; the armies fed on the captive peoples, and the captive peoples who didn’t like it were fed to the lions, or (even worse) the crucifix.

Such it has always been. When tyrants rule, money flows uphill and pain flows down. At the top is always a Caesar (or his etymological cousins, a Kaiser or a Czar). In the modern age, they usually make a hypocritical nod to democracy by calling themselves “President,” but the suffix “for life” tells us what’s really going on. At the bottom is the enemy of the state and what awaits him is a cross, or a gas chamber, perhaps a syringe filled with poison, or the observation section of a rape room and then a trip to the paper shredder. Every tyrant rules the same way: through threat of torture, humiliation, and death.

But when Jesus said, “Go ahead, do your worst,” and, as his early followers testified, overcame death, he ripped the stinger out, rendering the whole wasp twitching and dying from tip to tail. When his followers chose the cross as their symbol, they seemed to be turning “the world upside down,” but they weren’t; they were turning the upside-down world, finally, right-side-up. To get the flavor, imagine a revolutionary-era Frenchman displaying a tiny replica of the guillotine, or modern Iraqis wearing little rape-room replicas around their necks, or industrial paper shredders. Imagine Russian dissidents making the sign of the syringe, or think of Holocaust survivors who display their tattooed identification numbers with pride instead of shame. This is what the early followers of Jesus did with the Roman cross.

Yes, Rome continued to plunder and murder for a time, but Jesus’ peaceful army grew. The empire tried to wipe them out, but the movement grew faster than Rome could kill. The Caesars gradually lost their grip on the world. Jesus’ new model survived, then prevailed and eventually spread. One by one it has been wiping the little Caesars from the face of the earth in a gale of creative destruction.

The gale blows still, Messrs. Putin, Kim Jong Il, and Ahmadinejad. The gale blows still, Raul, Hugo, Mugabe. House of Saud, the gale blows still.

By Jerry Bowyer in Crosswalker.com

In the biblical descriptions of the Easter event, the story moves straight from Good Friday to Easter Sunday. An entire day of grief, devastation and fear lies unspoken between the end of one paragraph, where Jesus is buried, and the beginning of the next, his resurrection two days later. Perhaps it was simply that there were no words to do justice to the empty day in the middle. We can only imagine that, for the followers of Jesus, it must have been the emptiest, most shattering experience they could ever encounter — a metaphorical hell. Tradition tells us that Jesus was in the real one.

The Christian church doesn’t worship on Easter Saturday — as God is dead, there is nothing left to worship. It gives the day over to the hardware shops and the football. But if any day in the Christian calendar resonates with the fear, sadness and desperation that so much of the world lives with at every moment, it has to be yesterday.

If we needed evidence that the world is living through a long Easter Saturday, we don’t need to look any further than the newspaper headlines last week. It’s ironic that while many churches have been preparing for Holy Week and Easter, telling a story of sacrifice and salvation that happened 2000 years ago, a holy week of another kind has been unfolding in Tibet. We heard stories last week of monks and students who have stood against injustice and oppression, even though for many it has led to their deaths. They join a long line of people through history who have given everything they have for freedom, sometimes in the name of God, and sometimes in the name of life. Occasionally, the everything they have given has been enough to change the world. Often it hasn’t. It’s difficult to imagine greater courage or faith.

For the first time in years, hope has political currency around the world. It’s defining the current US election, in stark contrast to previous elections, where platforms of fear and terror have been certain vote-winners. For the first time ever, part of me wishes I lived in the US so I could vote for hope, too. It’s seductive, we all want to join its bandwagon. It’s tempting to think that if the world is speaking of hope, then everything just might change.

British guerilla graffiti artist Banksy visited the segregation wall that separates Palestine from Israel a few years ago. In his typically subversive style, he stencilled images on to the grey concrete wall: startling vistas of tropical islands, pictures of plush armchairs seated by windows that overlooked snow-capped mountains, a silhouette of a girl holding a bunch of balloons that were carrying her to freedom above the wall. He painted an alternative world of hope and liberation on to the concrete reality of conflict and despair. As he was working, an old Palestinian man approached him, and they had this conversation:

Old man: “You paint the wall, you make it look beautiful.”

Banksy: “Thanks.”

Old Man: “We don’t want it to be beautiful. We hate this wall, go home.”

Our human inclination, when we come face to face with despair on a personal or global scale, is to paint over it with easy answers, and to think that because we can only see the paint, the concrete reality behind it no longer exists. It’s almost impossible to sit in the great chasm of the world’s Easter Saturday and not fill it with glib promises and wishful thinking, to layer a resurrection story on top of it. We depend on the promise of a happy ending, but when we realise that there are some stories for which there is no ending, our hope crumbles.

It sounds cynical to assume that there won’t always be a happy ending but, if that’s the case, Jesus was the ultimate cynic. “The poor will be with you always,” he said, and then he continued to fight the systems that oppressed the poor all the way to his death.

The hope that Jesus died for should only be defined by its most despairing and cynical audience: the widow and the orphan, the betrayed and the betrayer. Their hope isn’t in the world being fixed, it’s in surviving the night.

“Hope begins in the dark,” says author Anne Lamott. That’s the miracle that Christians believe was made real through the resurrection, and a truth that has been proven through history. We can’t talk ourselves or anyone else into having hope. We get there only by turning up in the darkness and doing the right thing. By choosing and honouring justice and love every time, hope has a chance to be born.

There are a few words that should always be accompanied by official warnings, if only because their misuse causes so much damage. Love is one of them, hope another. But if we are going to vote for hope, we have to be willing to do more than simply paint pictures onto concrete walls. The only way the world can survive this Easter Saturday is if we have the courage and faith it takes to wait with those who are living in hell, even if there is no certainty that they or we will survive. It seems even God knows that there is no other way.

in theage.com.au
Cheryl Lawrie is a Melbourne writer.

J E S U S

had no servants, yet they called Him

M a s t e r.

Had no degree, yet they called Him

T e a c h e r .

Had no medicines, yet they called Him

H e a l e r.

He had no army, yet

Kings Feared Him .

He won no military battles, yet

He Conquered the World.

He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.

He was buried in a tomb, yet

He lives today.

I feel honored to serve such a Leader who loves us!

AND HE IS COMING AGAIN!!!!

Prepare ye the way of the Lord. Praise the Lord!

We wish you the blessings of our Lord´s Holy Passion and of His Glorious Resurrection

____________________________________________

Sent in by: fr. Vincenzo Tuccillo KCT
Luogotenete Balivato Magna Grecia
Priorato Generale d’Italia OSMTJ-OSMTHU

The sufferings of Our Lord, which culminated in His death upon the cross, seem to have been conceived of as one inseparable whole from a very early period. Even in the Acts of the Apostles (i, 3) St. Luke speaks of those to whom Christ “shewed himself alive after his passion” (meta to mathein autou). In the Vulgate this has been rendered post passionem suam, and not only the Reims Testament but the Anglican Authorized and Revised Versions, as well as the medieval English translation attributed to Wyclif, have retained the word “passion” in English. Passio also meets us in the same sense in other early writings (e.g. Tertullian, “Adv. Marcion.”, IV, 40) and the word was clearly in common use in the middle of the third century, as in Cyprian, Novatian, and Commodian. The last named writes:

“Hoc Deus hortatur, hoc lex, hoc passio Christi
Ut resurrecturos nos credamus in novo sæclo.”

St. Paul declared, and we require no further evidence to convince us that he spoke truly, that Christ crucified was “unto the Jews indeed a stumbling-block, and unto the Gentiles foolishness” (1 Corinthians 1:23). The shock to Pagan feeling, caused by the ignominy of Christ’s Passion and the seeming incompatibility of the Divine nature with a felon’s death, seems not to have been without its effect upon the thought of Christians themselves. Hence, no doubt, arose that prolific growth of heretical Gnostic or Docetic sects, which denied the reality of the man Jesus Christ or of His sufferings. Hence also came the tendency in the early Christian centuries to depict the countenance of the Saviour as youthful, fair, and radiant, the very antithesis of the vir dolorum familiar to a later age (cf. Weis Libersdorf, “Christus-und Apostel-bilder”, 31 sq.) and to dwell by preference not upon His sufferings but upon His works of mercifulness, as in the Good Shepherd motive, or upon His works of power, as in the raising of Lazarus or in the resurrection figured by the history of Jonas.

But while the existence of such a tendency to draw a veil over the physical side of the Passion may readily be admitted, it would be easy to exaggerate the effect produced upon Christian feeling in the early centuries by Pagan ways of thought. Harnack goes too far when he declares that the Death and Passion of Christ were regarded by the majority of the Greeks as too sacred a mystery to be made the subject of contemplation or speculation, and when he declares that the feeling of the early Greek Church is accurately represented in the following passage of Goethe: “We draw a veil over the sufferings of Christ, simply because we revere them so deeply. We hold if to be reprehensible presumption to play, and trifle with, and embellish those profound mysteries in which the Divine depths of suffering lie hidden, never to rest until even the noblest seems mean and tasteless” (Harnack, “History Of Dogma”, tr., III, 306; cf. J. Reil, “Die frühchristlichen Darstellungen der Kreuzigung Christi”, 5). On the other hand, while Harnack speaks with caution and restraint, other more popular writers give themselves to reckless generalizations such as may be illustrated by the following passage from Archdeacon Farrar: “The aspect”, he says, “in which the early Christians viewed the cross was that of triumph and exultation, never that of moaning and misery. It was the emblem of victory and of rapture, not of blood or of anguish.” (See “The Month”, May, 1895, 89.) Of course it is true that down to the fifth century the specimens of Christian art that have been preserved to us in the catacombs and elsewhere, exhibit no traces of any sort of representation of the crucifixion. Even the simple cross is rarely found before the time of Constantine (see CROSS), and when the figure of the Divine Victim comes to be indicated, it at first appears most commonly under some symbolical form, e.g. that of a lamb, and there is no attempt as a rule to represent the crucifixion realistically. Again, the Christian literature which has survived, whether Greek or Latin, does not dwell upon the details of the Passion or very frequently fall back upon the motive of our Saviour’s sufferings. The tragedy known as “Christus Patiens”, which is printed with the works of St. Gregory Nazianzus and was formerly attributed to him, is almost certainly a work of much later date, probably not earlier than the eleventh century (see Krumbacher, “Byz. Lit.”, 746).

In spite of all this it would be rash to infer that the Passion was not a favourite subject of contemplation for Christian ascetics. To begin with, the Apostolical writings preserved in the New Testament are far from leaving the sufferings of Christ in the background as a motive of Christian endeavour; take, for instance, the words of St. Peter (1 Peter 2:19, 21, 23): “For this is thankworthy, if for conscience towards God, a man endure sorrows, suffering wrongfully”; “For unto this are you called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps”; “Who, when he was reviled, did not revile”, etc.; or again: “Christ therefore having suffered in the flesh, be you also armed with the same thought” (ibid., iv, 1). So St. Paul (Galatians 2:19): “with Christ I am nailed to the cross. And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me”; and (ibid., v, 24): “they that are Christ’s, have crucified their flesh, with the vices and concupiscences” (cf. Colossians 1:24); and perhaps most strikingly of all (Galatians 6:14): “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world.” Seeing the great influence that the New Testament exercised from a very early period upon the leaders of Christian thought, it is impossible to believe that such passages did not leave their mark upon the devotional practice of the West, though it is easy to discover plausible reasons why this spirit should not have displayed itself more conspicuously in literature. It certainly manifested itself in the devotion of the martyrs who died in imitation of their Master, and in the spirit of martyrdom that characterized the early Church.

Further, we do actually find in such an Apostolic Father as St. Ignatius of Antioch, who, though a Syrian by birth, wrote in Greek and was in touch with Greek culture, a very continuous and practical remembrance of the Passion. After expressing in his letter to the Romans (cc. iv, ix) his desire to be martyred, and by enduring many forms of suffering to prove himself the true disciple of Jesus Christ, the saint continues: “Him I seek who dies on our behalf; Him I desire who rose again for our sake. The pangs of a new birth are upon me. Suffer me to receive the pure light. When I am come thither then shall I be a man. Permit me to be an imitator of the Passion of my God. If any man hath Him within himself, let him understand what I desire, and let him have fellow-feeling with me, for he knoweth the things which straiten me.” And again he says in his letter to the Smyrnæans (c. iv): “near to the sword, near to God (i.e. Jesus Christ), in company with wild beasts, in company with God. Only let it be in the name of Jesus Christ. So that we may suffer together with Him” (eis to sympathein auto).

Moreover, taking the Syrian Church in general — and rich as it was in the traditions of Jerusalem it was far from being an uninfluential part of Christendom — we do find a pronounced and even emotional form of devotion to the Passion established at an early period. Already in the second century a fragment preserved to us of St. Melito of Sardis speaks as Father Faber might have spoken in modern times. Apostrophising the people of Israel, he says: “Thou slewest thy Lord and He was lifted up upon a tree and a tablet was fixed up to denote who He was that was put to death — And who was this? — Listen while ye tremble: — He on whose account the earth quaked; He that suspended the earth was hanged up; He that fixed the heavens was fixed with nails; He that supported the earth was supported upon a tree; the Lord was exposed to ignominy with a naked body; God put to death; the King of Israel slain by an Israelitish right hand. Ah! the fresh wickedness of the fresh murder! The Lord was exposed with a naked body, He was not deemed worthy even of covering, but in order that He might not be seen, the lights were turned away, and the day became dark because they were slaying God, who was naked upon the tree” (Cureton, “Spicilegium Syriacum”, 55).

No doubt the Syrian and Jewish temperament was an emotional temperament, and the tone of their literature may often remind us of the Celtic. But in any case it is certain that a most realistic presentation of Our Lord’s sufferings found favour with the Fathers of the Syrian Church apparently from the beginning. It would be easy to make long quotations of this kind from the works of St. Ephraem, St. Isaac of Antioch, and St. James of Sarugh. Zingerle in the “Theologische Quartalschrift” (1870 and 1871) has collected many of the most striking passages from the last two writers. In all this literature we find a rather turgid Oriental imagination embroidering almost every detail of the history of the Passion. Christ’s elevation upon the cross is likened by Isaac of Antioch to the action of the stork, which builds its nest upon the treetops to be safe from the insidious approach of the snake; while the crown of thorns suggests to him a wall with which the safe asylum of that nest is surrounded, protecting all the children of God who are gathered in the nest from the talons of the hawk or other winged foes (Zingerle, ibid., 1870, 108). Moreover St. Ephraem who wrote in the last quarter of the fourth century, is earlier in date and even more copious and realistic in his minute study of the physical details of the Passion. It is difficult to convey in a short quotation any true impression of the effect produced by the long-sustained note of lamentation, in which the orator and poet follows up his theme. In the Hymns on the Passion (”Ephraem Syri Hymni et Sermones,” ed. Lamy, I) the writer moves like a devout pilgrim from scene to scene, and from object to object, finding everywhere new motives for tenderness and compassion, while the seven “Sermons for Holy Week” might both for their spirit and treatment have been penned by any medieval mystic. “Glory be to Him, how much he suffered!” is an exclamation which bursts from the preacher’s lips from time to time. To illustrate the general tone, the following passage from a description of the scourging must suffice:

“After many vehement outcries against Pilate, the all-mighty One was scourged like the meanest criminal. Surely there must have been commotion and horror at the sight. Let the heavens and earth stand awestruck to behold Him who swayeth the rod of fire, Himself smitten with scourges, to behold Him who spread over the earth the veil of the skies and who set fast the foundations of the mountains, who poised the earth over the waters and sent down the blazing lightning-flash, now beaten by infamous wretches over a stone pillar that His own word had created. They, indeed, stretched out His limbs and outraged Him with mockeries. A man whom He had formed wielded the scourge. He who sustains all creatures with His might submitted His back to their stripes; He who is the Father’s right arm yielded His own arms to be extended. The pillar of ignominy was embraced by Him who bears up and sustains the heaven and the earth in all their splendour” (Lamy, I, 511 sq.). The same strain is continued over several pages, and amongst other quaint fancies St. Ephraem remarks: “The very column must have quivered as if it were alive, the cold stone must have felt that the Master was bound to it who had given it its being. The column shuddered knowing that the Lord of all creatures was being scourged”. And he adds, as a marvel, witnessed even in his own day, that the “column had contracted with fear beneath the Body of Christ”.

In the devotional atmosphere represented by such contemplations as these, it is easy to comprehend the scenes of touching emotion depicted by the pilgrim lady of Galicia who visited Jerusalem (if Dr. Meester’s protest may be safely neglected) towards the end of the fourth century. At Gethsemane she describes how “that passage of the Gospel is read where the Lord was apprehended, and when this passage has been read there is such a moaning and groaning of all the people, with weeping that the groans can be hear almost at the city. While during the three hours’ ceremony on Good Friday from midday onwards we are told: “At the several lections and prayers there is such emotion displayed and lamentation of all the people as is wonderful to hear. For there is no one, great or small, who does not weep on that day during those three hours, in a way that cannot be imagined, that the Lord should have suffered such things for us” (Peregrinatio Sylviæ in “Itinera Hierosolymitana”, ed. Geyer, 87, 89). It is difficult not to suppose that this example of the manner of honouring Our Saviour’s Passion, which was traditional in the very scenes of those sufferings, did not produce a notable impression upon Western Europe. The lady from Galicia, whether we call her Sylvia, Ætheria, or Egeria, was but one of the vast crowd of pilgrims who streamed to Jerusalem from all parts of the world. The tone of St. Jerome (see for instance the letters of Paula and Eustochium to Marcella in A.D. 386; P.L., XXII, 491) is similar, and St. Jerome’s words penetrated wherever the Latin language was spoken. An early Christian prayer, reproduced by Wessely (Les plus anciens mon. de Chris., 206), shows the same spirit.

We can hardly doubt that soon after the relics of the True Cross had been carried by devout worshippers into all Christian lands (we know the fact not only from the statement of St. Cyril of Jerusalem himself but also from inscriptions found in North Africa only a little later in date) that some ceremonial analogous to our modern “adoration” of the Cross upon Good Friday was introduced, in imitation of the similar veneration paid to the relic of the True Cross at Jerusalem. It was at this time too that the figure of the Crucified began to be depicted in Christian art, though for many centuries any attempt at a realistic presentment of the sufferings of Christ was almost unknown. Even in Gregory of Tours (De Gloria Mart.) a picture of Christ upon the cross seems to be treated as something of a novelty. Still such hymns as the “Pange lingua gloriosi prœlium certaminis”, and the “Vexilla regis”, both by Venantius Fortunatus (c. 570), clearly mark a growing tendency to dwell upon the Passion as a separate object of contemplation. The more or less dramatic recital of the Passion by three deacons representing the “Chronista”, “Christus”, and “Synagoga”, in the Office of Holy Week probably originated at the same period, and not many centuries later we begin to find the narratives of the Passion in the Four Evangelists copied separately into books of devotion. This, for example, is the case in the ninth-century English collection known as “the Book of Cerne”. An eighth century collection of devotions (manuscript Harley 2965) contains pages connected with the incidents of the Passion. In the tenth century the Cursus of the Holy Cross was added to the monastic Office (see Bishop, “Origin of the Prymer”, p. xxvii, n.).

Still more striking in its revelation of the developments of devotional imagination is the existence of such a vernacular poem as Cynewulf’s “Dream of the Rood”, in which the tree of the cross is conceived of as telling its own story. A portion of this Anglo-Saxon poem still stands engraved in runic letters upon the celebrated Ruthwell Cross in Dumfriesshire, Scotland. The italicized lines in the following represent portions of the poem which can still be read upon the stone:

I had power all
his foes to fell,
but yet I stood fast.
Then the young hero prepared himself,
That was Almighty God,
Strong and firm of mood,
he mounted the lofty cross
courageously in the sight of many,
when he willed to redeem mankind.
I trembled when the hero embraced me,
yet dared I not bow down to earth,
fall to the bosom of the ground,
but I was compelled to stand fast,
a cross was I reared,
I raised the powerful King
The lord of the heavens,
I dared not fall down.
They pierced me with dark nails,
on me are the wounds visible.

 Still it was not until the time of St. Bernard and St. Francis of Assisi that the full developments of Christian devotion to the Passion were reached. It seems highly probable that this was an indirect result of the preaching of the Crusades, and the consequent awakening of the minds of the faithful to a deeper realization of all the sacred memories represented by Calvary and the Holy Sepulchre. When Jerusalem was recaptured by the Saracens in 1187, worthy Abbot Samson of Bury St. Edmunds was so deeply moved that he put on haircloth and renounced flesh meat from that day forth — and this was not a solitary case, as the enthusiasm evoked by the Crusades conclusively shows.

Under any circumstances it is noteworthy that the first recorded instance of stigmata (if we leave out of account the doubtful case of St. Paul) was that of St. Francis of Assisi. Since his time there have been over 320 similar manifestations which have reasonable claims to be considered genuine (Poulain, “Graces of Interior Prayer”, tr., 175). Whether we regard these as being wholly supernatural or partly natural in their origin, the comparative frequency of the phenomenon seems to point to a new attitude of Catholic mysticism in regard to the Passion of Christ, which has only established itself since the beginning of the thirteenth century. The testimony of art points to a similar conclusion. It was only at about this same period that realistic and sometimes extravagantly contorted crucifixes met with any general favour. The people, of course, lagged far behind the mystics and the religious orders, but they followed in their wake; and in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we have innumerable illustrations of the adoption by the laity of new practices of piety to honour Our Lord’s Passion. One of the most fruitful and practical was that type of spiritual pilgrimage to the Holy Places of Jerusalem, which eventually crystalized into what is now known to us as the “Way of the Cross”. The “Seven Falls” and the “Seven Bloodsheddings” of Christ may be regarded as variants of this form of devotion. How truly genuine was the piety evoked in an actual pilgrimage to the Holy Land is made very clear, among other documents, by the narrative of the journeys of the Dominican Felix Fabri at the close of the fifteenth century, and the immense labour taken to obtain exact measurements shows how deeply men’s hearts were stirred by even a counterfeit pilgrimage. Equally to this period belong both the popularity of the Little Offices of the Cross and “De Passione”, which are found in so many of the Horæ, manuscript and printed, and also the introduction of new Masses in honour of the Passion, such for example as those which are now almost universally celebrated upon the Fridays of Lent. Lastly, an inspection of the prayer-books compiled towards the close of the Middle Ages for the use of the laity, such as the “Horæ Beatæ Mariæ Virginis”, the “Hortulus Animæ”, the “Paradisus Animæ” etc., shows the existence of an immense number of prayers either connected with incidents in the Passion or addressed to Jesus Christ upon the Cross. The best known of these perhaps were the fifteen prayers attributed to St. Bridget, and described most commonly in English as “the Fifteen O’s”, from the exclamation with which each began.

In modern times a vast literature, and also a hymnology, has grown up relating directly to the Passion of Christ. Many of the innumerable works produced in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries have now been completely forgotten, though some books like the medieval “Life of Christ” by the Carthusian Ludolphus of Saxony, the “Sufferings of Christ” by Father Thomas of Jesus, the Carmelite Guevara’s “Mount of Calvary”, or “The Passion of Our Lord” by Father de La Palma, S.J., are still read. Though such writers as Justus Lipsius and Father Gretser, S.J., at the end of the sixteenth century, and Dom Calmet, O.S.B., in the eighteenth, did much to illustrate the history of the Passion from historical sources, the general tendency of all devotional literature was to ignore such means of information as were provided by archæology and science, and to turn rather to the revelations of the mystics to supplement the Gospel records.

Amongst these, the Revelations of St. Bridget of Sweden, of Maria Agreda, of Marina de Escobar and, in comparatively recent times, of Anne Catherine Emmerich are the most famous. Within the last fifty years, however, there has been a reaction against this procedure, a reaction due probably to the fact that so many of these revelations plainly contradict each other, for example on the question whether the right or left shoulder of Our Lord was wounded by the weight of the cross, or whether Our Saviour was nailed to the cross standing or lying. In the best modern lives of Our Saviour, such as those of Didon, Fouard, and Le Camus, every use is made of subsidiary sources of information, not neglecting even the Talmud. The work of Père Ollivier, “The Passion” (tr., 1905), follows the same course, but in many widely-read devotional works upon this subject, for example: Faber, “The Foot of the Cross”; Gallwey, “The Watches of the Passion”; Coleridge, “Passiontide” etc.; Groenings, “Hist. of the Passion” (Eng. tr); Belser, D’Gesch. d. Leidens d. Hernn; Grimm, “Leidengeschichte Christi”, the writers seem to have judged that historical or critical research was inconsistent with the ascetical purpose of their works.
__________________________________________
Written by Herbert Thurston. Transcribed by Douglas J. Potter. Dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ - The Catholic Encyclopedia, Volume XI. Published 1911. New York: Robert Appleton Company.

Pope Benedict XVI opened Holy Week at the Vatican with the traditional Palm Sunday procession and Mass in St. Peter’s Square on March 16.

About 50,000 people attended the Eucharistic celebration. Most were young people who were observing World Youth Day in the Rome diocese, preparing for the worldwide celebration that will be held in Sydney, Australia in July.

In his homily during the Mass, Pope Benedict recalled that after his entry into Jerusalem, Jesus found the Temple cluttered with traders busy with various money-making schemes. That bit of Gospel history should cause Christians today to pause and ask themselves whether our faith is “open and pure enough,” the Pope remarked. Non-believers coming into Christian churches should be able to “see the light of the one God,” rather than be distracted, he said.

The Pope prodded the faithful to examine their consciences particularly with respect to financial affairs, recognizing that “greed is idolatry.” Like the Jewish worshippers at the time of Christ, he said, we should notice how “in various ways we actually let idols enter the worth of our faith.”

Holy Week gives the Church a fresh opportunity for purification, the Pope said. After driving away the money-changers, he said, in their place “Christ put his own healing goodness. This is the true purification of the Temple.” Referring back to Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the Pope took note that Jesus was always especially anxious to embrace children. Like those children, eager for Christ’s touch, “we must abandon the pride that blineds us, that pushes us away from God as if He were our competitor,” the Pope said.

Most spirituality information is concerned with the question of, “what are some of the challenges people face when attempting to live a more spiritual life and how they can overcome them?”

The biggest challenge people face when attempting to live a more spiritual life is that they are going against a lifetime of conditioning and beliefs that have continually reinforced the idea that they are a separate person from all other people, places and things. They have been taught their whole lives to view the world exclusively through their physical senses and to believe in Newtonian physics which tells us that the universe is mechanical and so are we.

Because of this conditioning many people define themselves as a two part being of a body with a mind when in actuality they are a three part being of body, mind and spirit. The body is physical and they can relate to that. The mind is non-physical but works primarily through the brain, which is physical, so they can relate to that. But the spirit is meta-physical and cannot be defined in physical terms so it is often not used in a conscious manner in their decision making process.

So it is the challenge of allowing the spiritual aspect of your being to be part of your conscious life process that keeps people tied to the idea of separation. This is what the spiritual life is all about, being in balance in your mind, body, spirit make-up. Allowing the spirit to be part of your definition of self and using the spiritual aspect of your being for guidance in your life journey. The spirit is the part of you that is eternally interconnected with all of life including your source so it is critical for the spiritual seeker to recognize and understand that their true nature is one of spirit and not one of physicality.

To overcome this conditioning and firmly established belief system requires many aspects of change but in the spirit of triality (pun intended) I will give three that are critical.

1) Find a mentor or several mentors who you resonate with. Use the messages of these mentors to begin the process of understanding and knowing “Who You Really Are.” The spiritual life tells us that we are the best source of our truth but we often need people who are ahead of us on the path to show us the way and give us tools to help our journey of discovery of self.

2) Become a disciple of your Self. Develop the discipline necessary to stay focused on your spiritual journey. This world is full of distractions so it is easy to stray from your path. You need to make it a priority to your Self to begin the process of deep understanding, clarity and total knowledge of your true authentic Self and the true nature of how the universe works.

3) Understand and use the immutable law of the universe known as The Law of Attraction. You bring into your life that which you put your attention on so start putting your attention on your spiritual growth and begin to let go of anything that takes you away from that quest. This may be easier said than done because we are so conditioned to believe what other people tell us and especially what the television tells us. So I would suggest that the first and best thing you can do is to stop watching the television and quit reading the newspaper. Most of the information from these two sources keeps reinforcing the concept of separation and keeps you firmly entrenched in a belief system based in fear instead of love. Love is where you want to go so put your attention on love and stop putting your attention on fear. This is a process but it has to begin somewhere and sometime so let the time be now and the where be right where you are.

My final word, which is actually the most important thing you can do right now, on your spiritual quest is to continue to step into the beingness of love. Begin this process by LOVING YOURSELF UNCONDITIONALLY. You must love yourself first and foremost before you can expect to give your love freely to the world. Be love as much as you possibly can and watch the world change before your very eyes. Love is the answer to every question and love will guide you out of fear and separation and into the absolute truth of unity and oneness. Do this right now, LOVE YOURSELF UNCONDITIONALLY.

Live in love

By Richard Blackstone

Richard Blackstone is an award winning author and international speaker on Love, Oneness & Creation.

The term Candlemas (or Candelaia) derives from the late Latin “candelorum” or “candelaram” namely the blessing of candles and it indicates a holiday in astronomical time, coinciding with half winter in the rural cycle, when we approach the end of winter and the beginning of spring. The most famous popular saying about it states: “When we are at Candlemas, we are out of winter, but if it rains or the wind is blowing, we are still within winter” suggesting that if the day of Candlemas does not have good weather, you still have to wait several weeks before the end of the winter and beginning of spring. This is a moment of transition between winter / dark / end and spring / light / Birth: the passage is celebrated through the purification and preparation for the new season.

For the Catholic Church, Candlemas is the Feast of the Purification of Mary, celebrated by the Church and by the faithful on February 2 simultaneously with the presentation of Jesus in the temple which could not take place before 40 days had passed, which is the time required by the Jewish law for the purification of one who has recently given birth to a male.

The first account of the Candlemas in the Holy Land is by Eteria that describes it as a major public holiday. Later, from Jerusalem, the festivities spread throughout the East and particularly to Byzantium. With the Emperor Justinian I it became a public holiday and took the name of Ypapanté (= meeting of the Lord). The origins of Candlemas, however, have distant roots in time.

From Rome, Italy, we descend on Lupercalia which celebrated in the Ides of February, the last month of the year for the Romans, when they used to purify themselves before the advent of the new year to propitiate fertility. In this celebration, dedicated to Fauno Lupercus, two boys of a patrician family were conducted into a cave on the Palatine, consecrated to God, in which priests, having sacrificed goats, mark their forehead with a knife stained with the blood of the animals. The blood was then dried with white wet wool in milk, and then the two couples had to smile. They were dressed in skins of sacrificed animals; and the same skins were then cut into strips which were then used as whips. So dressed and whips in hand, the couple had to run around the base of the Palatine hitting anyone they might encounter, particularly women who voluntarily offered to be purified and whipped to obtain fertility. Another moment of the festival was the ‘februatio’, the purification of the city, where women ran through the streets with lit candles and torches, a symbol of light.

The use of lit torches and candles during the religious procession had two functions: the first, of a spiritual nature, showed the victory of light over darkness, the social presentation of the Divine on earth, and the other of a practical nature, resulted from the need to have visibility in travelling night in the cities where the celebrations took place. The blessing of candles, then as now, is a significant moment in the great procession called Cerorum luminibus coruscans (or “shining through candles and lights”), and it is able to generate in the hearts of the participants a strong sense of communion with the mother of Jesus. Today, the solemn offer of candles to the Pope is done by many Italian cities, as in Trapani, where popular representations recall the purification of Mary, and people bring candles, flashlights and torches to their windows, as it used to happen in Naples. The blessed candles are then kept at home by the faithful and are lit to appease the wrath of God, during violent storms, on waiting for an absent person who does not return or is kept away in serious danger, when attending to a moribund, or anytime you feel the need to invoke divine help.

The character that of a Marian feast was introduced by Pope Sergio. But it will be the Eastern mysticism that sings more profusely in its liturgy about the Virgin’s gesture especially in the antiphonal “, oh Zion, the wedding room, receive Christ your Lord…” sang in response to the first reading of the office readings. This mystical intuition is made possible by following these steps: Christmas is considered the “husband” (antiphon to the Magnificat Vespers first and second readings at antiphon) as the sun is rising on the horizon; and the Church is considered as a bride adorned, its joys are the wedding feast of Christ with the Church. The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple, though celebrated for a time “during the year,” is the final point of the Christmas season. The same antiphon, mentioned above, places Mary in the correct position by singing: “… (Oh Zion) hail Mary, gate of heaven, because she holds on her arms, the king of glory, the new light. The Virgin recoils, presenting the Son, born before the first-born star of the morning. Simeon keeps him in the arms, and announces to the people that he is the Lord of life and death, the Saviour of the world “. Towards the eleventh century comes to revelationem antiphon Lumen Gentium that characterizes faith and prayer of the Church in this circumstance, and the song of podsejani Simeon Nunc dimittis.

For this reason the Vatican II Council invites us to understand the intimate nature of these festivities: “The union of the Mother and the Son in redemption occurs upon virginal conception of Christ lasting until his death. And when presented to the temple by offering the gift of the poor, Simeon was heard saying that the son would become a sign of contradiction and that a sword would pierce the soul of the mother, because they revealed the thoughts of many hearts “(LG 57).

Candlemas in some places is called “Day of the bear”. In this particular day, the bear is emerges from hibernation and out of his burrow to see weather and assess whether or not he should put the nose out. A proverb from Piedmont says that if the bear has its dry bed (which would indicate a good weather for that day) for forty days he no longer exits. Another proverb similar to the first, but in this case Southern, argues that if the 2 February the weather is not good, the bear has a chance to stay in winter continues.

The bear was also the main character of some rural rites of February, placed in the rural cycle: at the end of a simulated hunt, the bear is caught and brought inside the country where it is the object of jokes and games. The epilogue can vary either with its release or an escape and return to nature. The character of the bears is played by actors in disguise who should not be recognized until the end of the ritual show.

At Urbiano they celebrate the “feast of the bear”: a few days before the feast, hunters with the face blackened, went in search of bears, (played by a man in costume) who were invariably found the eve of the evening. Hunters, “bear”, and a tamer visited the public houses and inns with the pretext to scare people (and girls), left to become transgressivelly drunk. The day after, the bear appeares in the country and, after the tour of the village, dances with the most beautiful girl before disappearing only to be transformed in a man.

This festival occurs not only in Piedmont and areas in the Alps, but also in other regions (and nations) and, at distant times bears in the party were true animals, led around by a mountaineer who took the bear dancing in the squares of villages around the country. Then he used to disappear. In some countries, to maintain tradition, the bear was then replaced by a masked person that specifically performed the same pantomime.
At Putignano, in Puglia, bear impersonators toured the streets of the country, stopping in the squares: there, with the sound of drums, they danced the tarantella, among those present arranged in a circle. Sometimes, depending on the weather, the bear wouls mimic the act of building his refuge (u pagghiar ‘).

These rites reprised an ancient tradition that celebrated the festival of the return of light for the summer, with the defeat of the forces of darkness and cold. By performing these rituals the symbolism of bears is revealed (they go into a winter hibernation and awaken back in spring), interpreting a primitive force of nature. The bear can also be understood as representing “wild man”. In both representations there is still represent the binomial nature - man.

The number “Forty” in the Bible
The day of Candlemas is connected with the number 40, a number that represents the purification. The Book of Genesis, for instance, tells us that the deluge lasted forty days and forty nights (7.12), and, according to Matthew, chapter 4.2, Jesus’ was fasting in the desert for forty days and forty nights. On the other hand, St. Paul in his writings to the Christians in Corinth, he recalls when he received 40 lashes by the Jews. (2Cor. 11.26)

In the Bible, the number 40, with its precise religious meaning is used many times: Abraham implores to God to save Sodom if there he would find at least 40 righteous people (but had come down to less than ten in the end), and when saved from Esau he had offer 40 cows in sacrifice. In Egypt, Joseph took 40 days to embalm the body of his father, and left Egypt, Moses was on Mount Sinai for 40 days and 40 nights, and when the tabernacle was built it took 40 silver bases to stand on. The explorers of the land of Canaan arriving to the Promised Land: it took them 40 days, but in return they had 40 years of punishment. Judge Abdon had 40 children, and the philistine persevered for 40 days, according to Samuel (1 Sam. 17.14).

Even the great prophet Elijah remained on Mount Horeb for 40 days and 40 nights and Jonah preached repentance to the inhabitants of Nineveh for 40 days. Therefore really lent 40 days (40 nights) of true inner penance, fasting, is not just a physical stance but spiritual experience.

__________________________________________________
Translation with the help of Google Tools from the article published last Friday in Italian sent in by the Priory of Italy at the occasion of the publishing of the video depicting the Candlemas celebration of 2008. We apologise for any mistranslations.

Questo é il video preparato por il Priorato de Italia in occasione della Festività della Candelora lo scorso 2 febbraio 2008.

Il termine Candelora (o Candelaia) deriva dal tardo latino “candelorum” o “candelaram” cioè benedizione delle candele ed indica una festività collocata, nel tempo astronomico, a mezzo inverno e coincidente, nel ciclo agreste/vegetativo, con la fine dell’inverno e l’inizio della primavera; il più famoso detto popolare a riguardo infatti recita: “Quando vien la Candelora, de l’inverno semo fora; ma se piove o tira il vento, de l’inverno semo dentro” suggerendo che se nel giorno della Candelora non si avrà bel tempo, si dovranno aspettare ancora diverse settimane prima della fine dell’inverno e dell’arrivo della primavera. Si tratta di un momento di passaggio, tra l’inverno/ buio/ fine e la primavera/ luce/ nascita: passaggio che viene celebrato attraverso la purificazione e la preparazione alla nuova stagione.

Per la Chiesa Cattolica, la Candelora è la festa della purificazione di Maria, celebrata dalla Chiesa e dai fedeli il 2 di febbraio in simultanea con la presentazione di Gesù al Tempio che non poteva avvenire prima dei 40 giorni,cioè del tempo previsto dalla legge ebrea per la purificazione di una puerpera dopo il parto di un maschio.

La prima testimonianza della festività in Terra Santa é raccontata da Eteria che la descrive come una grande festività pubblica. Successivamente, da Gerusalemme, la festività si diffuse in tutto l’Oriente e in particolare a Bisanzio. Con l’imperatore Giustiniano I divenne giorno festivo e assunse il nome di Ypapanté (= incontro del Signore). Le origini della Candelora, però, hanno radici lontane nel tempo.

In Italia, a Roma, risaliamo ai Lupercalia che si celebravano alle Idi di febbraio, ultimo mese dell’anno per i romani, che servivano a purificarsi prima dell’avvento dell’anno nuovo e a propiziarne la fertilità. In questa celebrazione, dedicata a Fauno Lupercus, due ragazzi di famiglia patrizia venivano condotti in una grotta sul Palatino, consacrata al Dio, al cui interno i sacerdoti, dopo aver sacrificato delle capre, segnavano loro la fronte con il coltello tinto del sangue degli animali. Il sangue veniva poi asciugato con della lana bianca bagnata nel latte, e subito i due giovani dovevano sorridere. A quel punto i due ragazzi dovevano indossare le pelli degli animali sacrificati; con la medesima pelle venivano quindi realizzate delle striscie (dette februa o anche amiculum Iunonis) da usare a mo’ di fruste. Così acconciati e con le strisce in mano, i due giovani dovevano correre attorno alla base del Palatino percuotendo chiunque incontrassero, in particolare le donne che si offrivano volontariamente ad essere sferzate per purificarsi e ottenere la fecondità. Altro momento particolare della festa era la ‘februatio’, la purificazione della città, in cui le donne giravano per le strade con ceri e fiaccole accese, simbolo di luce.

L’uso di fiaccole e candele accese durante la processione sacra aveva due funzioni: la prima, di natura spirituale, indicava la vittoria della luce sulle tenebre, la presentazione sociale del Divino in terra; l’altra di natura pratica, derivava dalla necessità di avere visibilità nell’attraversamento notturno delle città in cui avvenivano i festeggiamenti. La benedizione dei ceri, allora come oggi, è un momento significativo e la grande processione chiamata Cerorum luminibus coruscans (ovvero “risplendente mediante ceri e lumi”), è un grado di generare nei cuori dei partecipanti un forte senso di congiunzione con la madre di Gesù. Ancora oggi, l’offerta dei ceri al Papa viene fatta in forma solenne ed in molte altre città italiane, come a Trapani, si celebrano rappresentazioni popolari che rievocano la purificazione di Maria, o si mettono ceri, torce e fiaccole alle finestre, come si faceva anticamente anche a Napoli. I ceri benedetti sono poi conservati in casa dai fedeli e vengono accesi, per placare l’ira divina, durante violenti temporali, aspettando una persona che non torna o si ritiene in grave pericolo, assistendo un moribondo, e in qualunque momento si senta il bisogno d’invocare l’aiuto divino.

Il carattere mariano della festa fu introdotto da papa Sergio. Ma sarà la mistica orientale a cantare più profusamente nella sua liturgia il gesto della Vergine soprattutto nell’antifona “Adorna, o Sion, la stanza nuziale, accogli Cristo tuo Signore…” che si canta nel responsorio alla prima lettura nell’ufficio delle letture. Questa intuizione mistica è possibile seguendo questo passaggio: a Natale ecco affacciarsi lo “sposo” (antifona al Magnificat dei primi Vespri e seconda antifona all’ufficio delle letture) come sole che si leva all’orizzonte; all’Epifania è la Chiesa che si presenta come una sposa adorna delle sue gioie: è la festa delle nozze della Chiesa con Cristo. La festa della Presentazione del Signore al Tempio, anche se celebrata nel tempo “durante l’anno”, è il punto conclusivo del tempo di Natale. La stessa antifona, che abbiamo ricordato sopra, colloca Maria nella posizione giusta cantando: “… (o Sion) accogli Maria, porta del cielo, perché ella tiene fra le sue braccia il re della gloria, la luce nuova. La Vergine si ferma, presentando il Figlio, generato prima della stella del mattino. Simeone lo tiene fra le braccia, e annunzia alle genti che egli è il Signore della vita e della morte, il Salvatore del mondo”. Verso il secolo undicesimo nasce l’antifona Lumen ad revelationem gentium che caratterizza la fede e la preghiera della Chiesa in questa circostanza, e viene intercalata al cantico di Simeone Nunc dimittis.

Per questo il Vaticano II invita a cogliere l’intima natura della festività: “L’unione della Madre col Figlio nell’opera della redenzione si manifesta dal momento della concezione verginale di Cristo fino alla morte di lui. E quando lo presentò al tempio con l’offerta del dono proprio dei poveri, udì Simeone mentre preannunciava che il Figlio sarebbe divenuto segno di contraddizione e che una spada avrebbe trafitto l’anima della madre, perché fossero svelati i pensieri di molti cuori” (LG 57).

SPIGOLATURE SULLA CANDELORA
La Candelora in alcuni luoghi viene chiamata “Giorno dell’orso”. In questo particolare giorno, l’orso si sveglierebbe dal letargo e uscirebbe fuori dalla sua tana per vedere come è il tempo e valutare se sia o meno il caso di mettere il naso fuori. Un proverbio piemontese in questo senso recita: “se l’ouers fai secha soun ni, per caranto giouern a sort papì”. Ovvero, se l’orso fa asciugare il suo giaciglio (cosa che starebbe a indicare tempo bello per quel giorno) per quaranta giorni non esce più. Un altro proverbio simile al primo, ma meridionale in questo caso, sostiene che se il 2 Febbraio il tempo non è buono, l’orso ha la possibilità di farsi il pagliaio e quindi l’inverno continua.

L’orso era anche protagonista di alcuni riti rurali del mese di febbraio, collocati nel ciclo agreste/vegetativo: al termine di una caccia simulata, l’orso viene catturato e portato all’interno del paese dove viene fatto oggetto di dileggi e di scherzi. L’epilogo può variare dall’uccisione dell’orso alla sua liberazione/fuga e ritorno alla natura. La figura dell’orso è rivestita da qualcuno del luogo che non deve essere riconosciuto fino alla fine della rappresentazione rituale.

A Urbiano si celebra la “festa dell’orso”: qualche giorno prima della ricorrenza, i cacciatori con il volto annerito, andavano alla ricerca dell’orso, che (rappresentato da un uomo travestito) veniva immancabilmente trovato la sera della vigilia. Cacciatori, “orso”, e domatore visitavano le stalle e le osterie con il pretesto di spaventare la gente (e le ragazze) si lasciavano andare a trasgressive bevute. Il giorno dopo, l’orso compariva in paese e, dopo aver fatto il giro della borgata, ballava con la ragazza più bella prima di scomparire per ritrasformarsi in uomo.

Questa festa ricorre non solo in Piemonte e nelle zone dell’arco alpino, ma anche in altre regioni (e nazioni); in tempi più remoti l’orso della festa era vero, portato in giro da un montanaro/domatore che andava da un paese all’altro facendo ballare l’orso nelle piazze. In seguito questo uso scomparve e in alcuni paesi, per mantenere la tradizione, l’orso fu sostituito da una persona appositamente mascherata che ripeteva la stessa pantomima.
A Putignano, in Puglia, chi impersonificava l’orso girava per le vie del paese, fermandosi nelle piazze: lì, al suono di tamburi, si metteva a ballare la tarantella, tra i presenti disposti in cerchio che battevano le mani a tempo e lo punzecchiavano e colpivano con qualche sberla. A volte, a seconda del tempo, l’orso imitava o no l’atto del costruire il suo rifugio (u pagghiar’).

Questi riti riproponevano comunque una tradizione antica che celebrava la festa del ritorno della luce e della bella stagione, con la sconfitta delle forze del buio e del freddo. Nello svolgimento di questi riti traspare la simbologia dell’orso (che con l’inverno va in letargo e si risveglia a primavera), interprete della forza primitiva della natura. L’orso può anche essere accostato alla figura dell’”uomo selvaggio”. In entrambe le raffigurazioni rappresenterebbe comunque il binomio natura - uomo.

IL NUMERO “QUARANTA” NELLA BIBBIA
Il giorno della Candelora fa riflettere sul numero 40, un numero che ovviamente rappresenta la purificazione così come ricorda il libro della Genesi quando racconta che il diluvio è durato quaranta giorni e quaranta notti. (7,12), oppure, come dice Matteo al capitolo 4,2, quando racconta del digiuno di Gesù nel deserto per altrettanti giorni ed altrettante notti. Che dire poi dei ricordi di san Paolo, quando, scrivendo ai cristiani di Corinto, racconta loro di avere ricevuto 40 frustate dai giudei. (2Cor. 11,26)

Nella Bibbia il numero 40, ovviamente col suo preciso significato religioso, ricorre molte volte: Abramo implora Dio di salvare Sodoma se vi avesse trovato almeno 40 giusti (ma dovette scendere a meno di dieci che non furono trovati); e per salvarsi da Esaù dovette offrirgli 40 vacche. In Egitto, Giuseppe impiegò 40 giorni per imbalsamare il corpo del padre; e usciti dall’Egitto, Mosè rimase sul Sinai per 40 giorni e 40 notti; e quando fu costruito il tabernacolo occorsero 40 basi d’argento. Peggio se la videro gli esploratori della terra di Canaan all’arrivo verso la terra promessa: impiegarono 40 giorni, durante i quali se la spassarono, ma ebbero in cambio 40 anni di punizioni. Il giudice Abdon ebbe 40 figli, e il filisteo perseverò nell’insistenza per 40 giorni, come ricorda Samuele (1 Sam. 17,14).

Anche il grande profeta Elia rimase sul monte Oreb per 40 giorni e 40 notti e Giona predicò la penitenza agli abitanti di Ninive per 40 giorni e fu ascoltato. Quaresima dunque davvero 40 giorni (e 40 notti) di vera interiore penitenza, un digiuno non semplicemente corporale ma soprattutto spirituale.

Fr. Vincenzo TUCCILLO KCT, Priorato de Italia

Thomas is as much to say as abisme or double, or trenched and hewn, he was an abisme profound in humility, as it appeared in the hair that he wore, and in washing of the feet of the poor people, double in prelation that was in word and in ensample, and hewn and trenched in his passion. S. Thomas the martyr was son to Gilbert Beckett, a burgess of the city of London, and was born in the place where as now standeth the church called S. Thomas of Acre. And this Gilbert was a good devout man, and took the cross upon him, and went on pilgrimage into the Holy Land, and had a servant with his knees. And on a Trinity Sunday received he his dignity, and there was at that time the king with many a great lord and sixteen bishops. And from thence was sent the abbot of Evesham to the pope with other clerks for the pall which he gave and brought to him, and he full meekly received it. And under his habit he ware the habit of a monk, and so was he under within forth a monk, and outward a clerk, and did great abstinence making his body lean and his soul fat. And he used to be well served at his table, and took but little refection thereof, and lived holily in giving good ensample.

After this, many times the king went over into Normandy, and in his absence always S. Thomas had the rule of his son and of the realm, which was governed so well that the king could him great thanks, and then abode long in this realm. And when so was that the king did any thing against the franchise and liberties of holy church, S. Thomas would ever withstand it to his power. And on a time when the sees of London and of Winchester were vacant and void, the king kept them both long in his hand for to have the profits of them; wherefore S. Thomas was heavy, and came to the king and desired him to give those two bishopricks to some virtuous men. And anon the king granted to him his desire and ordained one master Roger, bishop of Winchester, and the Earl of Gloucester’s son, bishop of London, named Sir Robert. And anon after S. Thomas hallowed the abbey of Reading, which the first Henry founded. And that same year he translated S. Edward, king and confessor at Westminster, where he was laid in a rich shrine. And in some short time after, by the enticement of the devil, fell great debate, variance, and strife, between the king and S. Thomas, and the king sent for all the bishops to appear tofore him at Westminster at a certain day, at which day they assembled tofore him, whom he welcomed, and after said to them how that the archbishop would destroy his law, and not suffer him to enjoy such things as his predecessors had used tofore him. Whereto S. Thomas answered that he never intended to do thing that should displease the king as far as it touched not the franchise and liberties of holy church.

Then the king rehearsed how he would not suffer clerks that were thieves to have the execution of the law; to which S. Thomas said, that he ought not to execute them, but they longeth to the correction of holy church, and other divers points; to which S. Thomas would not agree. To the which the king said: Now I see well that thou wouldest foredo the laws of this land which have been used in the days of my predecessors, but it shall not lie in thy power, and so the king being wroth departed. Then the bishops all counselled S. Thomas to follow the king’s intent, or else the land should be in great trouble; and in like wise the lords temporal that were his friends counselled him the same, and S. Thomas said: I take God to record it was never mine intent to displease the king, or to take any thing that longeth to his right or honour. And then the lords were glad and brought him to the king to Oxenford, and the king deigned not to speak to him. And then the king called all the lords spiritual and temporal tofore him, and said he would have all the laws of his forefathers there new confirmed, and there they were confirmed by all the lords spiritual and temporal. And after this the king charged them for to come to him to Clarendon to his parliament at a certain day assigned, on pain to run in his indignation, and at that time so departed.

And this parliament was holden at Clarendon, the eleventh year of the king’s reign, and the year of our Lord eleven hundred and sixty-four. At this parliament were many lords which all were against S. Thomas. And then the king sitting in his parliament,in the presence of all his lords, demanded them if they would abide and keep the laws that had been used in his forefathers’ days. Then S. Thomas spake for the part of holy church, and said: All old laws that be good and rightful, and not against our mother holy church, I grant with good will to keep them. And then the king said that he would not leave one point of his law, and waxed wroth with S. Thomas. And then certain bishops required S. Thomas to obey to the king’s desire and will, and S. Thomas desired respite to know the laws, and then to give him an answer. And when he understood them all, to some he consented, but many he denied and would never be agreeable to them, wherefore the king was wroth and said he would hold and keep them like as his predecessors had done before him, and would not minish one point of them. Then S. Thomas said to the king with full great sorrow and heavy cheer, Now, my most dear lord and gracious king, have pity on us of holy church, your bedemen, and give to us respite for a certain time.

 And thus departed each man. And S. Thomas went to Winchester, and there prayed our Lord devoutly for holy church, and to give him aid and strength for to defend it, for utterly he determined to abide by the liberties and franchise, and fell down on his knees and said, full sore weeping: O good Lord, I acknowledge that I have offended, and for mine offence and trespass this trouble cometh to holy church, I purpose, good Lord, to go to Rome for to be assoiled of mine offences; and departed towards Canterbury. And anon the king sent his officers to his manors and despoiled them, because he would not obey the king’s statutes. And the king commanded to seize all his lands and goods into his hands, and then his servants departed from him, and he went to the seaside for to have gone over sea, but the wind was against him, and so thrice he took his ship and might not pass. And then he knew that it was not our Lord’s will that he should yet depart, and returned secretly to Canterbury, of whose coming his meiny made great joy. And on the morn came the king’s officers for to seize all his goods, for the noise was that S. Thomas had fled the land; wherefore they had despoiled all his manors and seized them into the king’s hand. And when they came they found him at Canterbury, whereof they were sore abashed, and returned to the king informing him that he was yet at Canterbury, and anon after S. Thomas came to the king to Woodstock for to pray him to be better disposed towards holy church.

And then said the king to him in scorn: May not we two dwell both in this land? Art thou so sturdy and hard of heart? To whom S. Thomas answered: Sire, that was never my thought, but I would fain please you, and do all that you desire so that ye hurt not the liberties of holy church, for them will I maintain while I live, ever to my power. With which words the king was sore moved, and swore that he would have them kept, and especial if a clerk were a thief he should be judged and executed by the king’s law, and by no spiritual law, and said he would never suffer a clerk to be his master in his own land, and charged S. Thomas to appear before him at Northampton, and to bring all the bishops of this land with him, and so departed. S. Thomas besought God of help and succour, for the bishops which ought to be with him were most against him. After this S. Thomas went to Northampton where the king had then his great council in the castle with all his lords, and when he came tofore the king he said: I am come to obey your commandment, but before this time was never bishop of Canterbury thus entreated, for I am head of the Church of England, and am to you, Sir King, your ghostly father, and it was never God’s law that the son should destroy his father which hath charge of his soul. And by your striving have you made all the bishops that should abide by the right of the church to be against holy church and me, and ye know well that I may not fight, but am ready to suffer death rather than I should consent to lose the right of holy church.

 Then said the king, Thou speakest as a proud clerk, but I shall abate thy pride ere I leave thee, for I must reckon with thee. Thou understandest well that thou wert my chancellor many years, and once I lent to thee £500 which thou never yet hast repaid, which I will that thou pay me again or else incontinent thou shalt go to prison. And then S. Thomas answered: Ye gave me that £500, and it is not fitting to demand that which ye have given. Notwithstanding he found surety for the said £500 and departed for that day. And after this, the next day the king demanded £30,000 that he had surmised on him to have stolen, he being chancellor, whereupon he desired day to answer; at which time he said that when he was archbishop he set him free therein without any claim or debt before good record, wherefore he ought not to answer unto that demand. And the bishops desired S. Thomas to obey the king but in no wise he would not agree to such things as should touch against the liberties of the church. And then they came to the king, and forsook S. Thomas, and agreed to all the king’s desire, and the proper servants of S. Thomas fled from him and forsook him, and then poor people came and accompanied him. And on the night came to him two lords and told to him that the king’s meiny had emprised to slay him. And the next night after he departed in the habit of a brother of Sempringham, and so chevissed that he went over sea.

And in the meanwhile certain bishops went to Rome for to complain on him to the pope, and the king sent letters to the king of France not to receive him. And the King Louis said that, though a man were banished and had committed there trespasses, yet should he be free in France. And so after when this holy S. Thomas came, he received him well, and gave him licence to abide there and do what he would. In this meanwhile the king of England sent certain lords into the pope complaining on the Archbishop Thomas, which made grievous complaints, which when the pope had heard said, he would give none answer till that he had heard the Archbishop Thomas speak, which would hastily come thither. But they would not abide his coming, but departed without speeding of their intents, and came into England again. And anon after, S Thomas came to Rome on S. Mark’s day at afternoon, and when his caterer should have bought fish for his dinner because it was fasting day, he could get none for no money, and came and told to his lord S. Thomas so, and he bade him buy such as he could get, and then he bought flesh and made it ready for their dinner. And S. Thomas was served with a capon roasted, and his meiny with boiled meat. And so it was that the pope heard that he was come, and sent a cardinal to welcome him, and he found him at his dinner eating flesh, which anon returned and told to the pope how he was not so perfect a man as he had supposed, for contrary to the rule of the church he eateth this day flesh.

The pope would not believe him, but sent another cardinal which for more evidence took the leg of the capon in his kerchief and affirmed the same, and opened his kerchief tofore the pope, and he found the leg turned into a fish called a carp. And when the pope saw it, he said, they were not true men to say such things of this good bishop. They said faithfully that it was flesh that he ate. After this S. Thomas came to the pope and did his reverence and obedience, whom the pope welcomed, and after communication he demanded him what meat he had eaten, and he said: Flesh as ye have heard tofore, because he could find no fish and very need compelled him thereto. Then the pope understood of the miracle that the capon’s leg was turned into a carp, and of his goodness granted to him and to all them of the diocese of Canterbury licence to eat flesh ever after on S. Mark’s day when it falleth on a fish day, and pardon withal, which is kept and accustomed unto this day. And then S. Thomas informed the pope how the king of England would have him consent to divers articles against the liberties of holy church, and what wrongs he did to the same, and that for to die he would never consent to them. And when the pope had heard him he wept for pity, and thanked God that he had such a bishop under him that had so well defended the liberties of holy church, and anon wrote out letters and bulls commanding all the bishops of Christendom to keep and observe the same.

And then S. Thomas offered to the pope his bishopric up into the pope’s hand, and his mitre with the cross and ring, and the pope commanded him to keep it still, and said he knew no man more able than he was. And after S. Thomas said mass tofore the pope in a white chasuble; and after mass he said to the pope that he knew by revelation that he should suffer death for the right of holy church, and when it should fall that chasuble should be turned from white into red. And after he departed from the pope and came down into France unto the abbey of Pontigny, and there he had knowledge that when the lords spiritual and temporal which had been at Rome were come home and had told the king that they might in no wise have their intent, that the king was greatly wroth, and anon banished all the kinsmen that were longing to S. Thomas that they should incontinent void his land, and made them swear that they should go to him and tell to him that for his sake they were exiled, and so they went over sea to him at Pontigny and he being there was full sorry for them.

And after there was a great chapter in England of the monks of Citeaux and there the king desired them to write to Pontigny that they should no longer keep ne sustain Thomas the Archbishop, for if they did, he would destroy them of that order being in England. And, for fear thereof they wrote so over to Pontigny that he must depart thence with his kinsmen, and so he did, and was then full heavy, and remitted his cause to God. And anon after, the king of France sent to him that he should abide where it pleased him, and dwell in his realm and he would pay for the costs of him and his kinsmen. And he departed and went to Sens, and the abbot brought him on the way. And S. Thomas told him how he knew by a vision that he should suffer death and martyrdom for the right of the church, and prayed him to keep it secret during his life. After this the king of England came into France, and there told the king how S. Thomas would destroy his realm, and then there told how he would foredo such laws as his elders had used tofore him, wherefore S. Thomas was sent for, and they were brought together. And the king of France laboured sore for to set them at accord, but it would not be, for that one would not minish his laws and accustoms, and S. Thomas would not grant that he should do England against S. Thomas, and was wroth with him and commanded him to void his realm with all his kinsmen. And then S. Thomas wist not whither to go; but comforted his kinsmen as well as he might, and purposed to have gone in to Provence for to have begged his bread.

And as he was going, the king of France sent for him again, and when he came he cried him mercy and said he had offended God and him, and bade him abide in his realm where he would, and he would pay for the dispenses of him and his kin. And in the meanwhile the king of England ordained his son king, and made him to be crowned by the Archbishop of York, and other bishops, which was against the statutes of the land, for the Archbishop of Canterbury should have consented and also have crowned him, wherefore S. Thomas gat a bull for to do accurse them that so did against him, and also on them that occupied the goods longing to him. And yet after this the king laboured so much that he accorded the king of England and S. Thomas which accord endured not long, for the king varied from it afterward. But S. Thomas, upon this accord, came home to Canterbury, where he was received worshipfully, and sent for them that had trespassed against him, and by the authority of the pope’s bull openly denounced them accursed unto the time they come to amendment. And when they knew this they came to him and would have made him to assoil them by force; and sent word over to the king how he had done, whereof the king was much wroth and said: If he had men in his land that loved him they would not suffer such a traitor in his land alive.

And forthwith four knights took their counsel together and thought they would do to the king a pleasure, and emprised to slay S. Thomas, and suddenly departed and took their shipping towards England. And when the king knew of their departing he was sorry and sent after them, but they were on the sea and departed ere the messengers came, wherefore the king was heavy and sorry.

These be the names of the four knights: Sir Reginald Fitzurse, Sir Hugh de Morville, Sir William de Tracy, Sir Richard le Breton. On Christmas day S. Thomas made a sermon at Canterbury in his own church, and weeping, prayed the people to pray for him, for he knew well his time was nigh, and there executed the sentence on them that were against the right of holy church. And that same day as the king sat at meat all the bread that he handled waxed anon mouldy and hoar, that no man might eat of it, and the bread that they touched not was fair and good for to eat.

And these four knights aforesaid came to Canterbury on the Tuesday in Christmas week about Evensong time, and came to S. Thomas and said that the king commanded him to make amends for the wrongs that he had done, and also that he should assoil all them that he had accursed anon, or else they should slay him. Then said Thomas: All that I ought to do by right, that will I with a good will do, but as to the sentence that is executed I may not undo, but that they will submit them to the correction of holy church, for it was done by our holy father the pope and not by me. Then said Sir Reginald: But if thou assoil the king and all other standing in the curse, it shall cost thee thy life. And S. Thomas said: Thou knowest well enough that the king and I were accorded on Mary Magdalene day, and that this curse should go forth on them that had offended the church.

Then one of the knights smote him as he kneeled before the altar on the head. And one Sir Edward Grim, that was his crossier put forth his arm with the cross to bear off the stroke, and the stroke smote the cross asunder and his arm almost off, wherefore he fled for fear, and so did all the monks, that were that time at compline. And then smote each at him, that they smote off a great piece of the skull of his head, that his brain fell on the pavement. And so they slew and martyred him, and were so cruel that one of them brake the point of his sword against the pavement. And thus this holy and blessed Archbishop S. Thomas suffered death in his own church for the right of all holy church. And when he was dead they stirred his brain, and after went in to his chamber and took away his goods, and his horse out of his stable, and took away his bulls and writings, and delivered them to Sir Robert Broke to bear into France to the king. And as they searched his chamber they found in a chest two shirts of hair made full of great knots, and then they said: Certainly he was a good man; and coming down into the churchward they began to dread and fear that the ground would not have borne them, and were marvellously aghast, but they supposed that the earth would have swallowed them all quick. And then they knew that they had done amiss. And anon it was known all about, how that he was martyred, and anon after took this holy body, and unclothed him, and found bishop’s clothing above, and the habit of a monk under. And next his flesh he wore hard hair, full of knots, which was his shirt. And his breech was of the same, and the knots slicked fast within the skin, and all his body full of worms; he suffered great pain. And he was thus martyred the year of our Lord one thousand one hundred and seventy-one, and was fifty-three years old. And soon after tidings came to the king how he was slain, wherefore the king took great sorrow, and sent to Rome for his absolution.

Now after that S. Thomas departed from the pope, the pope would daily look upon the white chasuble that S. Thomas had said mass in, and the same day that he was martyred he saw it turned into red, whereby he knew well that that same day he suffered martyrdom for the right of holy church, and commanded a mass of requiem solemnly to be sung for his soul. And when the quire began to sing requiem, an angel on high above began the office of a martyr: Letabitur justus, and then all the quire followed singing forth the mass of the office of a martyr. And the pope thanked God that it pleased him to show such miracles for his holy martyr, at whose tomb by the merits and prayers of this holy martyr our blessed Lord hath showed many miracles. The blind have recovered their sight, the dumb their speech, the deaf their hearing, the lame their limbs, and the dead their life. If I should here express all the miracles that it hath pleased God to show for this holy saint it should contain a whole volume, therefore at this time, I pass over unto the feast of his translation, where I propose with the grace of God to recite some of them. Then let us pray to this glorious martyr to be our advocate, that by his petition we may come to everlasting bliss. Amen.

_______________________________________________________

Saint Thomas Becket, 1118–70, English martyr, archbishop of Canterbury, b. London. He is called St. Thomas of Canterbury and occasionally St. Thomas of London.

Note: The Templar Charola (round church) in the Templar Castle in Tomar was dedicated to him.

Don’t you just love this adventure we are all on called “Life on Planet Earth?” It is a delicious and wonderful game and the only way it would be otherwise is if you choose for it to be.

Right now we are in a stage of collective evolution, as the human species, where we have chosen for it to be otherwise. As a world society we have chosen to believe that we are separate entities, as people, as communities, as states, as nations, and as a planet. We have chosen a perspective of viewing life as a struggle that must be won in order to preserve the “way of life” that we have chosen and created.

We chose this perspective because upon entering this physical world the prevailing belief system said that it’s a jungle out there and the only way to survive is by being the most fit. You have to develop and create your life so that you are continually winning the battle to be better at the game of life than your competitors. You observe that if you get really good at winning then you get to make the rules. This helps you keep an advantage over your competitors and amass more points.

The gauge that is used to see who is a winner is the accumulation of earthly things that we possess, because in this paradigm you get to own all that you have struggled and fought and manipulated to get as part of the game. All the material positions that are deemed by your society to be of value are held as trophies to your success.

You own the parts of the earth that you have acquired including the air above the earth and the ground and the minerals below the earth. You own the people in your life that acquiesce to your right of dominance. You own your wife or husband and treat them as part of your possessions. You own your children and hold their accomplishments as your own and disallow their perceived failures.

As your possessions, you endeavor to instill in them your value systems and judgments and try to mold them in your image and likeness. You quash their independent thinking because you know what is better for them than they do.

You espouse the virtues of freedom because you want to be free to pursue all avenues that help you be a winner. But your definition of freedom often conflicts with another’s definition of freedom, so you collaborate with people who share your perspective to ensure that your definition of freedom prevails. Once again, you win, they lose, and you get to set the rules.

Of course the freedom you choose is one that allows you to accumulate more of the material possessions that most people playing this game want the most. That is, the accumulation of money. It is by this standard that society recognizes your stature, and it is to this symbolism that the society has created a mantra and a “way of life.”

The mantra is that “who you are is not important if you don’t have enough money.” And the “way of life” we have created is that it is our God-given right to possess and consume as much of life’s bounty as we can afford (or borrow or steal) and this must be preserved at all costs.

So what has that meant to us as individuals, and societies, and nations, and a planet? As individuals, societies, and nations we are always at choice. The planet has no choice. It is at consequence to the choices we make and the lives we choose to create as individuals, societies, and nations.

Wait a minute. You mean that we, as individuals, hold the very survival of our planet in our own hands? You decide. Read on.

Here is how individuals, societies, and nations preserve their “way of life” now. I am generalizing here, because not all societies hold this view, but the majority of the societies of this earth are acting in the manner that follows.

Most individuals have bought into the paradigm of life that says we are all separate from each other, the planet that sustains us and separate from God.

They believe they are separate entities unto themselves and as such they are mainly concerned with trying to win points in the game of life and preserve the status quo. The status quo being their “way of life.” On an individual level they are conditioned to believe that by struggling and manipulating their lives they can accumulate and acquire money and material possessions that they have been told will make them happy, and or gain them entrance into heaven.

Individually they support those systems and institutions that reinforce and supplement these endeavors. The main systems they rely upon are religion, education and government.

Individually, most people have values of honesty, responsibility, fairness, respect and freedom. However each of these values is subject to each individual’s interpretation, because each individual perceives that they are separate from every other individual and separate from God.

So individuals, in their quest for some type of uniformity in their value systems once again rely heavily on the institutions that support their “way of life.” Religion, education and government are the systems that continually influence individuals in their separateness, and individuals continually reinforce these institutions to keep doing so, under the guise that by doing so they can continue to maintain their “way of life.”

My question to you is this, “Are we being served by believing in the paradigm of separation and it is the “way of life’ we have created serving us?”

By Richard Blackstone

“Para qualquer festa importante, a gente costuma se preparar. Quanto mais importante a festa, parece que mais tempo leva a preparação. E na preparação já se começa a viver a festa.” Assim deveria ser o tempo da quaresma, segundo o padre Luis Carlos Rosa.

Ele também é pároco da igreja Nossa Senhora de Lourdes, no Parque Nossa Senhora das Dores, e resumiu: “trata-se de um período de quarenta dias, que prepara os cristãos para a festa máxima da Igreja Católica, a Páscoa, quando Jesus Cristo morreu e ressuscitou prometendo vida eterna aos seus seguidores”.
A Quaresma começa na Quarta-feira de Cinzas, que será celebrada amanhã (posterior ao Carnaval) e se estende até o Domingo de Ramos e da Paixão do Senhor. Caracteriza-se por um período de jejum, penitência e reflexão.
Mas com as mudanças globais, essas características não perderam o sentido? Para o padre, houve uma inversão de valores, mas o significado da época nunca foi perdido. Abstinência de carne em toda sexta-feira, durante os 40 dias, missas em latim, oração que varava a madrugada, Vias-Sacras, nada de festas, bailes, música, barulhos – todas essas imposições rigorosas da Quaresma foram suavizadas no famoso Concílio Vaticano II, realizado nos anos 60, e que promoveu uma verdadeira reforma litúrgica. “Quem viveu na primeira metade do século 20, mais precisamente até os anos 60, ainda lembra dos rigores da penitência”. Os padres seguiam ao pé da letra trechos da Bíblia como a Epístola de São Paulo aos Romanos, que diz: “Participamos dos sofrimentos de Cristo para participarmos também da sua glória”.

Segundo ele, “há uns tempos a Quaresma tinha um estilo de fazer penitência, mas hoje, com o mundo moderno e urbanizado, as formas de penitência também se modificam. Quando existem pobres e pessoas que passam fome, como você vai dizer para as pessoas fazerem jejum?”. Rosa, então, expôs algumas alternativas. “Deixar de acessar a internet por motivos banais. Esquecer o I-Pod ou outros eletrônicos, que já fazem parte da vida das pessoas. São novos desafios nesse tempo”. De acordo com ele, o sentido da penitência é abster-se de algo e praticar a caridade. “A Igreja não impõe, mas sugere e mostra o caminho da conversão, que leva ao Reino dos céus”.

Por isso, Quaresma é também tempo de revisão de vida, de penitência, de reconhecer com humildade e confiança onde estão as deficiências e buscar o perdão e a força de Deus. “Isso se faz com esperança, que vem da fé no amor de Deus Pai, que nos enviou seu Filho Jesus e na força do Espírito Santo, que sempre nos chama, nos ama, nos ajuda, perdoa e faz crescer”. A introdução da Campanha da Fraternidade nesse período, é um propósito aos cristãos.

QUEBRA DE PENITÊNCIA

Há quem, por algum motivo ou simplesmente por desistência, “quebra a penitência” durante a quaresma. Questionado sobre algum tipo de punição divina, o religioso explicou que o sentimento de culpa da pessoa, basta. Segundo ele, Deus não castiga, mas os que conseguem manter o que prometeu, está mais próximo da graça.

Mais do que um período de penitência, explica o padre, a Quaresma deve ser usada para um contato maior com a própria fé e com o legado deixado por Cristo. “Quaresma é tempo em que a gente se dedica com mais atenção à escuta da Palavra de Deus e à oração, um tempo em que a gente procura se educar com mais afinco para realizar melhor nossa missão de cristãos”

Assim, conforme o padre, o jejum na Quarta-feira de Cinzas e na Sexta-feira Santa deveria ser mais simbólico, “no sentido de renunciar às coisas supérfluas, como bebidas alcoólicas, fumo, e guloseimas, no caso das crianças”. (RR)

O significado das cinzas

A missa de Quarta-feira de Cinzas inclui uma cerimônia de imposição das cinzas. “Trata-se de uma homenagem à passagem em que o profeta Jonas foi à cidade de Ninive e disse que em 40 dias ela seria destruída se não fizessem penitência. Então o povo se vestiu com trapos e cobriu a cabeça com cinzas. “Mas também é um apelo, uma lembrança que nós somos pó, depois da morte não sobra nada do nosso corpo, das nossas vaidades, e é necessária esta conversão”, explicou o padre Luis Carlos Rosa.

in Gazeta de Limeira, Foto F. Ribeiro.

I have been a professional caregiver for twenty years and I continue to learn a valuable life lesson everyday. I’m always amazed how sorrow and pain can bring such wonderful gifts as wisdom, patience, insight and love. I think it is very easy to make the mistake of tunnel visioning on the tasks we have at hand. We get so caught up in the daily necessities and routines that we forget or ignore the very things that can bring us joy and teach us many valuable lessons.

I was hired to care for a very special lady. I was to prepare meals for her, make sure she took her medication properly, do light housekeeping, and provide transportation to and from the market and her doctor’s appointments. All of these tasks were important and necessary so that she could remain living independently. Our focus was just that — helping her to remain independent.

It was on a cold rainy night, she had just crawled into bed, and she turned her little head and smelled her pillow. I noticed tears running from her eyes. She looked up at me and said “It’s been such a long time since I’ve had clean sheets; I love the smell of fresh clean sheets. I couldn’t change the sheets myself anymore, I didn’t know how to manage hanging on to my walker and changing the sheets at the same time. Thank you so much for changing my sheets.”

Such a simple pleasure as smelling clean sheets brought such great joy to her life. That was the day I learned unconditional care. The next day we sat down and talked about what was important to her, what she liked, and how she had done things all these years. The key point learned here was we were trying to help her remain independent, assisting her with the things she had always done for herself . . . but we forgot to ask how she liked those things done, and what was important to her.

She was the sunshine in my life. I never knew how much I would enjoy and learn from her sharing her life experiences with me. Meal time was not just another chore or necessity of life; it was an event to her. She showed me all of the beautiful and delicate dishes she had collected all of her life. Each one had a special story and held fond memories for her. Her personal favorite was the oblong dishes she used for individual ears of corn. She loved lots of melted butter, not margarine, smothering her ear of corn. Her mother had given her the corn dishes as a wedding present sixty-five years ago. Not a day goes by now that when I eat corn on the cob or climb into my bed which has fresh clean sheets, that I don’t see her beautiful little smiling face, so full of joy and hope from such simple pleasures.

I’m so thankful for the lessons I have learned . . . the lessons I almost missed because I forgot to slow down to look and see the beauty that was right in front of me.

By Angelica White

 

Deepening what you know about your spirituality, and deepening your spirituality per se, are two different things.

Deepening what you know about spirituality is relatively easy; just read everything you can get your hands on, go to lectures, talk endlessly with all kinds of people, and soon you will deepen what you know about spirituality. You might even become an expert and know everything there is to know about spirituality! Trouble is, knowing and being are two very different levels. We can know all there is to know about spirituality, yet not be spiritual at