#bernardo salvi

[iris-sistibly]

Bakit?

Isang salita, isang tanong ang gumugulo sa aking isipan. 

Bakit humantong sa ganito ang buhay ko? Bakit ako nag-iisa at nagdurusa? 

Ako ay isinilang na walang alam tungkol sa totoo kong pagkatao, pinuno ng pagmamahal, pinag-aral, tinuruan kung paano maging isang huwarang babae na dapat tularan ng ibang dalaga, at upang maging karapat-dapat na asawa para sa aking nag-iisang mahal. Ang aking irog na si Crisostomo, wala akong hinangad kundi ang makasal sa kanya, maging katuwang niya habang unti-unti niyang tinutupad ang mga pangarap niya para sa bayan, bumuo ng pamilya, at tumandang magkasama. 

Ngunit sa isang iglap, nawala ang lahat…

Tila ang lahat ng iyon ay isang magandang panaginip na naglaho nang ako’y magising sa masakit na katotohanan. Na ako’y hindi bunga ng pagmamahalan ng aking mga magulang, kundi ng pagnanasa ng isang taong itinuring kong pangalawang ama, na ako’y matagal nang bilanggo at pinatatahimik ng mga taong akala ko’y naghahangad lamang ng mabuti para sa akin, na ang mga taong akala ng lahat ay banal na sugo ng Panginoon, ay siya palang mga tunay na mga makasalanan, na siya ring nagwasak at pumaslang kay Crisostomo. 

At ang pinakamasakit ay wala akong nagawa upang sagipin siya. 

Hanggang sa kanyang kamatayan ay pinili kong ingatan ang pagmamahal na inalay ni Ibarra sa akin, ito na lamang ang magagawa ko upang ipaglaban siya at ang aming pag-iibigan. Kung hindi rin siya ang aking magiging kabiyak ay mabuti pang magpakasal na lamang ako sa Panginoon, at igugol ang buhay ko sa paglilingkod sa Kanya kahit na tutol ang tunay kong ama. Hindi ako nagpatinag sa kabila ng kanyang pagmamakaawa, kahit ang kinilala kong ama, at ang tiya Isabel ay wala ring nagawa. Pinili kong manirahan sa tahanan ng Diyos, sa paniniwalang makakamtan ko ang paghilom at katahimikan na aking inaasam sa Kanyang piling. 

Ngunit mali ako, nagkamali ako…

Sapagkat ang lugar na inaasahan kong magiging kaligtasan ko ay siya palang maghahatid sa akin sa impyernong ito! Dahil dito ko nasilayan ang tunay na anyo ng isang demonyo! Wala siyang pangil o sungay, isa siyang taong nagbabanal-banalan, nagmimisa, at nagtuturo ng mga aral ng Diyos. Ngunit ang kanyang ugali at gawi ay taliwas sa sinasabi ng Bibliya, tunay siyang kasuklam-suklam! At habang niyuyurakan niya ang aking dangal, ay sumagi sa isip ko ang aking masaya at tila perkpektong buhay noon, ang aking papá at tiya na nagmahal at nag-aruga sa akin, ang aking mga amiga na lagi kong kasa-kasama mula pagkabata. Si Crisostomo na nag-alay ng dalisay na pagmamahal at paggalang sa akin. At si Klay, ang estrangherang nagturo sa akin na tumayo sa sarili kong mga paa, ang babaeng nagpakita sa akin ng tunay na halaga at kakayahan ng isang babae. Higit sa lahat, ang aking sarili na parang kandilang unti-unting nauupos habang isa-isang binabawi sa akin ang aking kaligayahan, lakas, at natitirang pag-asa.

Akala ko, ang pagkamatay ni Crisostomo ang pinakamasakit na nangyari sa buhay ko. Na akala ko'y naubos na ang natitira kong luha sa pagkawala ng aking pinakamamahal. May mas isasakit pa pala...

At habangbuhay ko itong tatangisan...

Maraming katanungan ang naglalaro sa isip ko, ito ba ay parusa ng langit dahil sa kalapastanganang ginawa ng aking tunay na ama sa aking ina? Ako ba ang naging kabayaran sa lahat ng hinagpis na dinanas ni mamá noong siya ay nabubuhay pa? Ako ba ay kanyang isinumpa dahil sa kanyang matinding galit?

Aking Ina, bakit pinabayaan mo ako't isinadlak sa matinding pagdurusa? Ano’t tila ako ay iyong tinalikuran at kinalimutan? Bakit hinayaan mong danasin ko ang kaparusahang higit pa sa kamatayan? 

Bakit ako Ina? Bakit?

-Ang Hinagpis ni Maria Clara (sa panulat ni: Iris)

Mula sa epilogo ng Noli Me Tangere ni Dr. Jose Rizal na pinagbasehan ng palabas na Maria Clara at Ibarra. Ang dalawang ito naman ang siyang aking naging inspirasyon at basehan upang maisulat ang kathang ito. 

*

A/N: It's my first time writing a 99.99% tagalog fanfic. Mej nag nosebleed lang ako ng very slight but I’m so proud that I was able to write this. Obviously this is more of an expounded version of Maria Clara’s anguish after Padre Salvi violated her (and just before her breakdown), I wish she slit that asshole of a priest’s throat though, like seriously he doesn’t deserve to live. I have watched a video somewhere saying that the epilogue of Noli was based on the ill fate of a nun who was raped by a priest and was seen screaming and crying at the kampanaryo...or something like that. Oh and the "Ina" Maria was referring to on the last part was the Blessed Virgin Mary in case you're wondering.

Anyhoo, I feel sad that this show is going to end in 4 weeks, and idk how they are going to pull-off the story of El Filibusterismo in such a short amount of time, but I’m wishing the whole MCI team the best. 

#fanfiction #gma 7 #jose rizal #noli me tangere #maria clara at ibarra #maria clara delos santos y alba #juan crisostomo ibarra y magsalin #santiago delos santos #bernardo salvi #padre damaso #julie anne san jose #dennis trillo #juan rodrigo #juancho trivino #tirso cruz iii

[anastpaul]

Saint of the Day – 4 December – St Bernardo degli Uberti OSB Vall. (c1060-1133) Cardinal Bishop - a fascinating Saint who even Pablo Picasso could not resist painting

Saint of the Day – 4 December – St Bernardo degli Uberti OSB Vall. (c1060-1133) Cardinal Bishop, Benedictine Vallombrosan Monk, Abbot of San Salvi Monastery, Abbot-General of the Vallombrosans. Created a Cardinal by Pope Urban II in 1097. Papal legate, Bishop of Parma, Italy in 1106. Exiled twice during disputes with Anti–Papal forces opposing Pope Saint Gregory VII. Born in c1060 in Florence,…

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#stbernardodegliuberti

[tanogabo]

Maria nel pensiero di Bernardo di Chiaravalle (1090 – 1153)

Giovanni Battista Salvi da Sassoferrato – Vergine in preghiera – National Gallery, London – Wikipedia, pubblico dominio In tema di dottrina mariana, Bernardo è l’autore che ha letteralmente dominato tutto il secolo e influito decisamente anche su quelli futuri. Anche se i suoi scritti mariani sono relativamente pochi, egli parla della Vergine con uno straordinario impeto carismatico. Il suo…

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#arte #dio #incarnazione #Maria #maternità spirituale #mediazione #pensiero #preghiera #Religione #San Bernardo #San Bernardo di Chiaravalle #scritti #Vergine

[jacopocioni]

Le lapidi di Firenze: seconda parte

Inferno di Botticelli LAPIDI DANTESCHE Nelle strade del centro di Firenze, si trovano sui muri di palazzi, chiese e case torri delle lapidi dantesche. Vi si leggono incise frasi relative alle tre cantiche della Divina Commedia: Inferno, Purgatorio e Paradiso. Ai primi del Novecento, il Comune di Firenze sentì il desiderio di rintracciare i personaggi e i luoghi descritti nella sua opera. Iniziò una accurata ricerca per trovare il luogo esatto dove apporre le lapidi. La ricerca fu lunga e accurata. Finalmente nel 1907 iniziò l’apposizione nei siti rintracciati: INFERNO - Filippo Argenti, via del Corso dove erano le case degli Adimari; - Guido Cavalcanti, via Calzaioli dove erano le case dei Cavalcanti; - Ponte Vecchio (loggia di Ponte Vecchio), in sul passo d’Arno; - Brunetto Latini, via dei Cerretani (tra il civico 39 rosso e la chiesa di S. Maria Maggiore; - Famiglia Gianfigliazzi, via de’ Tornabuoni (sopra la vetrina del civico 1 rosso); - Dedicata al Battistero di San Giovanni, Piazza San Giovanni (all’esterno del Battistero verso la via Martelli; - Dedicata alla nascita di Dante Alighieri, posta sulla sua casa; - Bocca degli Abati, il traditore di Montaperti, via dei Tavolini. PURGATORIO Citazione di persone del suo tempo, 2^ cantica.  Sono descritti la Basilica di San Miniato al Monte e il ponte Rubaconte, via di San Salvatore al Monte (inizio della scalinata che porta al Piazzale Michelangelo; Piazza Piave (nella torre della Zecca Vecchia), dedicata al fiume Arno; Versi dedicati a Forese Donati, via del Corso (sopra ai civici 13 – 33 rosso); Piazza di San Salvi, dedica a Corso Donati (nel punto dove sostò l’esercito di Arrigo VII; Dedica alla donna angelicata Beatrice Portinari, (sulla destra dell’ingresso del palazzo Portinari – Salviati). PARADISO Elenco delle lapidi tratte dalla 3^ cantica. Dedicati alla città natale del poeta, Via Dante Alighieri alla Badia Fiorentina (sul fianco sinistro della Badia Fiorentina e alla sinistra del civico 1); Dedicati a Bellincione Berti Ravignani, via del Corso (sopra le vetrine del negozio civici 1 e 3 rosso); In questi versi sono ricordati gli antenati del poeta, via degli Speziali (tra la vetrina del civico 11 rosso e il portone del civico 3); Dedicato alla famiglia Cerchi, via del Corso (sopra le arcate del negozio ai civici 4 rosso e 6 rosso); Dedicata alla famiglia dei Galigai, via dei Tavolini (torre dei Galigai vicino al civico 1 rosso); Sulla famiglia degli Uberti, Piazza della Signoria (nel primo cortile di Palazzo Vecchio); Sulla famiglia Lamberti, via di Lamberti (tra le finestre sopra il civico 18 rosso e 20 rosso); Dedicato ai Visdomini, via delle Oche (presso ciò che resta della Torre dei Visdomini, tra i civici 20 r0s e 18 rosso); Famiglia Adimari, via delle Oche, (tra gli archi delle vetrine ai civici 35 rosso 37 rosso); Famiglia Peruzzi col loro simbolo (le sei pere), Borgo dei Greci (a sinistra della porta al civico 29); Famiglia della Bella, via dei Cerchi (all'angolo di via dei Tavolini); Dedicati a Ugo il Grande, via del Proconsolo (sulla facciata della chiesa Santa Maria Assunta); Famiglia Amidei, via Por Santa Maria (presso la torre degli Amidei, sopra al civico 11 rosso); Dedicati a Buondelmonte Buondelmonti, via Borgo Santi Apostoli (Presso le case dei Buondelmonti, sopra le vetrine dinanzi al civico 6); Dedicati alla statua di Marte, causa degli scontri fra Guelfi e ghibellini, distrutta dall’alluvione del 1333. Ubicata dove si trovava la statua, Ponte Vecchio (angolo Piazza del Pesce); Dedicati alla Firenze antica, Piazza della Signoria (nel primo cortile di Palazzo Vecchio); Dedicati al battesimo, Piazza San Giovanni (nel Battistero verso il Duomo); Preghiera dedicata alla Vergine da San Bernardo, Piazza del Duomo.

Alberto Chiarugi Read the full article

#AlbertoChiarugi #Firenze #lapidi #parte #seconda

[zack4x4]

BEATO EUGENIO II

BEATO EUGENIO II BEATO EUGENIO III, papa de 1145 a 1153. Nació cerca de Pisa (Italia). Siendo allí canónigo conoció a san Bernardo, de quien fue discípulo predilecto, e ingresó en la Orden Cisterciense. Lo enviaron a Italia y fue abad de San Silvestre de Farfa y luego de la abadía de Acque Salvie o Tre Fontane de Roma. Elegido papa, tuvo que irse a Farfa para recibir la coronación; hizo las…

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#Santoral

[designme2011]

👄• Fontana di Trevi a Roma L'immagine di Anita Ekberg che si immerge nella Fontana di Trevi nel film La Dolce Vita di Federico Fellini è probabilmente una delle scene più famose della storia del cinema. La fontana è stata costruita sulla facciata di Palazzo Poli da Nicola Salvi nel 1732 e inaugurata nel 1762, anche se la sua esistenza è legata all'acquedotto dell'Acqua Vergine, che risale ai tempi dell'imperatore Augusto. Perché si chiama Fontana di Trevi? Ci sono varie ipotesi sull'origine del nome della fontana più famosa della Città Eterna. La prima ipotesi è che il nome “Trevi” derivi da “Trebium”, la località di provenienza nei pressi della Tiburtina. La seconda ipotesi è che derivi da “trivio”, vale a dire l'incrocio delle tre vie Collatina, Prenestina e Tiburtina, da cui origina l'acqua. Con la terza ipotesi si fa riferimento a Iuturna, la ninfa invocata durante la siccità e che aveva un tempio chiamato “Trevi”. Cosa rappresenta la Fontana di Trevi? La parte centrale della facciata di Fontana di Trevi si sviluppa come un arco di trionfo, con una profonda nicchia con affianco colonne corinzie. Al centro dell’attico vi è una grande iscrizione che ricorda la realizzazione della fontana voluta da papa Clemente XII la cui effige è alla sommità. Quattro grandi statue del 1735 ornano l’edificio stesso e simbolizzano, a partire da sinistra, l’Abbondanza dei frutti di Agostino Corsini, la Fertilità dei campi di Bernardo Ludovisi, i Doni dell’autunno di Francesco Queirolo e l’Amenità dei prati di Bartolomeo Pincellotti. Nella grande nicchia centrale vi è la maestosa statua di Oceano che è alla guida di un cocchio a forma di grande conchiglia, trainato da due cavalli marini alati, uno rabbioso e l’altro pacifico, condotti da... • • • #designme #minuzzerie #tipsminuzforminuz #amofarefoto #amo_scattare #rome🇮🇹 #romecity #arthistory #storiadellarte #cultura #travelcaptures #lovingrome #wheninrome #romacittaeterna #buongiornoroma #instaroma #cittaeterna #romacaputmundi #lagrandebellezza #architecture #ancientrome #romabestphoto #roma_bestphoto #bellezzediroma #romasuperscatti #romaphotogroup #clickfor_roma #beautifuldestinations #architecturephotography (presso Roma Fontana Di Trevi) https://www.instagram.com/p/CrBamWytkjq/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#designme #minuzzerie #tipsminuzforminuz #amofarefoto #amo_scattare #rome🇮🇹 #romecity #arthistory #storiadellarte #cultura #travelcaptures #lovingrome #wheninrome #romacittaeterna #buongiornoroma #instaroma #cittaeterna #romacaputmundi #lagrandebellezza #architecture #ancientrome #romabestphoto #roma_bestphoto #bellezzediroma #romasuperscatti #romaphotogroup #clickfor_roma #beautifuldestinations #architecturephotography

[lisabrueckner]

Betto di Geri, Leonardo di ser Giovanni, Tommaso di Lorenzo Ghiberti, Matteo di Giovanni, Michelozzo di Bartolommeo, Bernardo Cennini, Antonio di Salvi, Francesco di Giovanni, Antonio del Pollaiolo, Andrea del Verrocchio

"Silver Altar": an altar frantal with statuettes of various sizes and twelve scenes from the life of Saint John the Baptist, 1367-1483

#silver #altar #florence italy

[pubart]

Campagna anti Covid del MCPU, ovvero del Ministero della Cultura dell'Ucraina, dove celebri capolavori vengono rivisitati per lanciare il messaggio #FlattenTheCurve (appiattire la curva dei contagi)

Leonardo Da Vinci - Dama con l’ermellino - 1490

René Magritte - Il figlio dell'uomo - 1964

Michelangelo Buonarroti - Creazione di Adamo - 1512

Raffaello Sanzio - Ritratto di un giovane uomo in rosso - 1505

Jacques-Louis David - Il Primo Console supera le Alpi al Gran San Bernardo - 1801

Frederic Leighton - Orfeo ed Euridice - 1864

Giovanni Battista Salvi - Madonna in preghiera - 1642

Leonardo Da Vinci - L'ultima cena - 1498

Benjamin West - La signora Worrell come Hebe - 1770

#vita sociale #leonardo da vinci #rene magritte #michelangelo buonarroti #raffaello sanzio #jacques louis david #frederic leighton #giovanni battista salvi #benjamin west

[forzaitaliatoscana]

#edilizia #EricaMazzetti #forzaitalia #Montevarchi

[italianartsociety]

By: Amy Fredrickson and  Livia Lupi

Today, i.e. 9 February, is celebrated as the feast day of Saint Apollonia of Alexandria. Resistant to abandon her faith in Christianity, Apollonia was martyred in 249 CE in Alexandria, Egypt. Apollonia is regarded as the protectress of teeth; her cult became so popular that relics thought to be her own teeth multiplied since the Middle Ages. She is recognized as the patron of dental conditions and is often prayed to by those suffering from toothaches.

Under Emperor Decius’ reign, Apollonia died during a revolt against Christians in Alexandria, in third century CE. Primary sources, such as Eusebius’ Historia Ecclesiastica, from the third century, as well as Jacobus da Varagine’s Golden Legend, published during the thirteenth century, describe Apollonia as an admirable elderly virgin whose teeth either fell out as the Pagans beat her or were extracted as a part of her torture.

Apollonia’s persecutors forced her to renounce God; otherwise, she would be burned alive. She begged them to wait for a moment, acting as though she was considering their requests. Instead, she dove into the flames herself and so suffered her martyrdom. Although Apollonia was of an advanced age at the time of her death, she is often represented as a youthful virgin. Typically, she is depicted with pincers, holding a tooth as an attribute of her torment.

Italian art provides a plethora of examples of Saint Apollonia. She is depicted in manuscripts, frescos, panel paintings, and copper miniatures. For instance, Baroque artist Guido Reni produced two copper companion paintings depicting Apollonia, which are now kept in the Prado Museum, Madrid. The Martyrdom of Apollonia shows her tormentors in the process of removing her teeth. Reni presents a symmetrical composition with two of her tormentors on either side, while Apollonia is tied to a post in the middle. One of the henchmen holds a large pair of pliers, prepared to extract her teeth.

In his work Saint Apollonia in Prayer, Reni portrays the saint in a state of rapture. After her teeth have been violently removed, the saint is shown kneeling before a lighted bonfire. Her arms are gently crossed on her chest as she gazes heavenward. An angel depicted above her is shown to be bestowing a crown and palm frond on her, which are attributes that symbolize her salvation. In the foreground, Reni included a pair of pliers holding one of her teeth.

References: 

Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend. Readings on the Saints, ed. William Granger Ryan and Eamon Duffy (2nd ed. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2012); Sant’Apollonia, Santi e Beati

Mena Marqués, M., Albarrán, V., and Azúa, F. de, La belleza cautiva. Pequeños tesoros del Museo del Prado, Museo del Prado - Obra Social ''La Caixa'', Barcelona, 2014, pp. 96-97.

Images:

Piero della Francesca, Sant’Apollonia, c. 1455-c.1460, National Gallery of Art, Washington DC. Tempera on panel.

Bernardo or Antonio Marioni, Sant’Apollonia, late fifteenth or early sixteenth century, Museo Bernareggi, Bergamo. Tempera on panel.

Giovanni Battista Salvi, Sant’Apollonia, c.1630-c.1685, Basilica of St Peter, Perugia. Oil on canvas.

Jean Fouquet, Torture of Saint Apollonia, Heures d’Étienne Chevalier, c.1452-60, Musée Condé, Chantilly. Tempera on parchment.

Guido Reni, The Martyrdom of Saint Apollonia, Museo del Prado, c.1600 - 1603. Oil on Copper. 

Guido Reni, Saint Apollonia in Prayer, Museo del Prado, c.1600-1603. Oil on Copper. 

#saint apollonia #golden legend #Italian Baroque #medieval art #Italian Renaissance #Guido Reni #sassoferato #piero della francesca #patron saints #patron of teeth

[mariamaterecclesiaiv]

Catecismo Responde 22/04

O inferno existe?

O inferno existe? Esta pergunta, aparentemente trivial para um católico praticante, tornou-se discurso comum na boca de muitos teólogos e pregadores que, ora tratam o tema com desdém, ora o consideram inoportuno para o homem moderno.

Antes de qualquer consideração, porém, é preciso que fiquem claras duas coisas:

(I) A partir das Sagradas Escrituras e da Tradição, bem como de inúmeras declarações do Magistério da Igreja, não resta dúvida de que o inferno existe [1] – e não acreditar neste dado revelado é afastar-se da fé católica;

(II) Embora exista, o inferno não é criação de Deus, mas uma invenção diabólica, realidade na qual podem adentrar também os seres humanos, com a sua liberdade.

Na encíclica Spe Salvi, o Papa Bento XVI faz alusão a recentes episódios da história do mundo em que ficou evidente como o uso abusivo da liberdade pode levar, já neste mundo, a uma opção irremediável pelo mal:

"Pode haver pessoas que destruíram totalmente em si próprias o desejo da verdade e a disponibilidade para o amor; pessoas nas quais tudo se tornou mentira; pessoas que viveram para o ódio e espezinharam o amor em si mesmas. Trata-se de uma perspectiva terrível, mas algumas figuras da nossa mesma história deixam entrever, de forma assustadora, perfis deste gênero. Em tais indivíduos, não haveria nada de remediável e a destruição do bem seria irrevogável: é já isto que se indica com a palavra inferno." [2]

O inferno não se trata, pois, de uma hipótese teológica, mas de uma constatação histórica, cuja possibilidade se torna bem concreta, se o ser humano olhar com sinceridade para o próprio coração. Fatalmente, a criatura pode sim afastar-se de seu Criador.

Na verdade, são justamente as pessoas que deixam de crer no inferno as que terminam cometendo, por causa disso, as maiores atrocidades. Como não há castigo para si, como estão elas "para além do bem e do mal", tudo parece ser-lhes permitido.

Mas, na expressão de São Bernardo de Claraval, "impassibilis est Deus, sed non incompassibilis – Deus é impassível, mas não incompassível" [3]: embora não possa padecer, Deus Se compadece dos fracos e oprimidos neste mundo. A Sua graça, adverte o Papa Bento XVI, "não exclui a justiça", nem "muda a injustiça em direito":

"Não é uma esponja que apaga tudo, de modo que tudo quanto se fez na terra termine por ter o mesmo valor. Contra um céu e uma graça deste tipo protestou com razão, por exemplo, Dostoiévski no seu romance 'Os irmãos Karamázov'. No fim, no banquete eterno, não se sentarão à mesa indistintamente os malvados junto com as vítimas, como se nada tivesse acontecido." [4]

Mesmo diante de tudo isso – pergunta-se –, será ainda conveniente falar sobre o inferno ao homem de hoje? Não seria melhor deixar de lado essa doutrina?

A pedagogia divina, expressa na vida dos santos e místicos da Igreja, deixa entrever que não. Santa Teresa de Ávila relata, em sua autobiografia, como a visão que teve do inferno foi "uma das maiores graças" que o Senhor lhe concedeu [5]. Tal fato fê-la inflamar-se de tal amor por Nosso Senhor que – diz ela em seu Caminho de Perfeição [6] – estaria disposta a dar mil vidas pela salvação de uma só das almas que se precipitavam no abismo eterno.

Em 1917, em Portugal, Nossa Senhora também não hesitou em mostrar o inferno aos pastorinhos de Fátima. "Algumas pessoas, mesmo piedosas – diz a Irmã Lúcia em suas memórias [7] –, não querem falar às crianças do inferno, para não as assustar; mas Deus não hesitou em mostrá-lo a três crianças, e uma de 6 anos apenas, a qual Ele sabia que se havia de horrorizar a ponto de, quase me atrevia a dizer, definhar-se de susto". Mas, por que permitiu Deus que aquelas crianças tivessem diante de si uma realidade tão aterradora? A resposta está em que Ele queria excitar-lhes o temor: não o temor servil, de um escravo, mas o temor filial, de filhos. De fato, depois de contemplarem o inferno, Francisco, Jacinta e Lúcia foram incendiados por um grande amor a Deus e começaram a fazer inúmeras penitências e orações para salvar as almas da condenação eterna.

Mais recentemente, o teólogo Hans Urs von Balthasar aventou a possibilidade de que, embora existisse, o inferno talvez estivesse vazio (l'inferno vuoto). A Tradição da Igreja, no entanto, não pode corroborar esse pensamento: (I) porque Satanás e os anjos rebeldes já estão no inferno [8]; (II) porque Cristo, ao encerrar o seu "sermão escatológico", não deixa dúvidas quando diz que os maus "irão para o castigo eterno" (Mt 25, 46).

Permanecer na fé da Igreja, portanto, é o caminho seguro. Que os pregadores da Palavra voltem a falar do inferno, não para aterrorizar as pessoas, mas para fazê-las crescer no amor. A caridade não pode ser levada a sério se não se tem uma verdadeira repulsa pelo mal e pelo eterno afastamento do Sumo Bem, que é Deus.

Fonte: padrepauloricardo.org

[nbernardo]

Angélica Salvi @ OUT.FEST, Barreiro - 05.10.2019 © Nuno Bernardo

#Angélica Salvi #outfest #outfestbarreiro #music

[emulatingrizal-blog]

A Forbidden Love

by: Caryl Sunga. 2015-07375

The rumors about Father Bernardo Salvi of San Diego has been spreading fast here in San Sebastian. They say that he raped Maria Clara. Salvi is a young priest, I am not shocked. I had urges when I his age but I made sure that I didn’t act upon them. I wonder how he will manage to clean his name after this. I hear people everywhere talking about it. I think of Salvi as I come near the church. I feel the cold air touching my skin as I walk slowly in to the church. Truly, it is almost Christmas season, almost time for the traditional Misa de Gallo. I wonder if many people would still go. It is eight o’ clock in the morning and it is almost time for confessionals. It’s just the second Tuesday of December; most people attend confessionals on first Tuesdays of every month. I am Father Nestor Nicolas, aged 37, the parochial priest of San Sebastian. I feel drained. I have been in the Philippines for almost five years. I have been deported here to serve because I didn’t want to obey the Pope and he wanted me to learn my lesson. I thought that he would take me back after a year or so, but I was wrong. I have never wanted anything more than to get back in Spain.

I approach the confessional room and wait. After about 20 minutes, I hear the soft voice of a lady saying “Good morning.” I become interested and try to see her through the holes of our boundary and witness the sparkling of her eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes are precious, something that I have never seen before. They somehow look like sleepy eyes, eyes that drive you to spiralling swirl of hypnotism. And they do drive me crazy. “Good morning,” I say back. “What do you want to confess?” I ask again. What does she need forgiveness for? With eyes like that, her sins would have been instantly absolved! “I am a prostitute, Father. I sell my body every night in hopes of earning enough to feed my whole family,” she said in a quite squeaky voice. I believe tears are running down her eyes, they sparkle. How should I react to this? I wait for her to open up and tell me more about her situation. “I have been doing this since the day I turned eighteen. My mother asked me if I could help her with her work because what she earned was never enough for us. Is this wrong, Father? I am a disgraced, dirty lady who deserves no forgiveness,” she uttered. “I understand that you want to help your mother in garnering money for your family but you are conscious of your own decisions. You know what is morally right and wrong. You have to find something else; a new job that doesn’t involve prostitution,” I said, saying these words in the most sincere way that I can. If it were another priest talking to this lady, he might have taken advantage of this lady using his rank as a priest. The idea tempts me as I am attracted to the girl. “I will help you get a new job if you decide to reveal your identity to me,” The words come out of my mouth surprisingly. The lady declines and leaves after I tell her what to do. I could tell how young she was. Her soft, high-pitched voice remains in my mind.

This Saturday marks the beginning of the nine nights of mass until the Misa de Gallo, which is for the Christmas Eve. Everyone puts on a big smile as they walk the halls of the church. All of them are delighted, but me. I start the mass on time and the usual ceremony takes place. I give them my sermon and explain to them how we should be joyed in the coming of Christ. Ironic, I think. I preach about something that I don’t practice. Happiness. I sit down and see her beautiful brown eyes. I cannot be mistaken. She is the girl in the confessional. The lady with the brown lazy eyes and high-pitched voice.

As soon as the mass ends, I search for the lady in the sea of people who attended the mass. I see her. I cannot be mistaken. As I approach her, the eyes become more prominent; they sparkle like the stars in the heaven. She is walking towards the gate but I touch her shoulders to get her attention. “Wait! Please stop walking. You walk too fast,” I said, trying to be funny. I realize that she doesn’t look like a pure Filipina. I’m sure she has Spanish blood in her veins. “What is it, Father?” she asks. “You are the lady in the confessional, last Tuesday. I am sure. Your eyes, your voice, I’m sure it’s you,” I confirm and look at her in the eyes to try to get her to say the truth. She looks away and I feel her guilt. I feel her being embarrassed. “You don’t need to feel shy. I am a priest. You can be honest with me. I will not judge you,” I try to reassure her so she’d open up to me more. “I’m sorry, Father,” she quietly says. “Let’s talk somewhere else? Somewhere a bit private?” I say. “Oh no, please no,” she says while a teardrop falls on her cheeks. “Oh no, I think you misunderstood. I do not want to... I just want to talk,” I put on my best smile as I utter those words. I wipe her tear and lead inside the now empty church. We sit and just talk about her life. I learn that she is just a nineteen year-old lady who works as a young prostitute for her mother and her eight siblings. She has never met her father, and her mother doesn’t even know who his father was. They rent a small house here in San Sebastian. She talks to me about her problems and cries to me. I feel nothing but pity to this lady. At a young age, she is forced to work immorally. Time passes by so fast. The sun is about to come out now. We have been talking for the past two hours. “If you need anything, you know where to find me Alunsina,” I say, hoping that she’d come back here more often. Her smile is divine. It makes me think that this innocent girl does not deserve to live like that. She nods and then leaves the church without looking back.

It has been three days. Three days of hoping that she will return. I know I shouldn’t be waiting for her but I cannot help it. Her beauty mesmerizes me. How does God create such a perfect being? I arrived an hour early for confession in hopes of finding her in the church. I was not disappointed. She quietly sits in the middle part of temple. Her skin shines under the rays of the sun that passes through the church’s glass windows. What a beauty! I slowly approach her and check my watch. I have still have forty five minutes to talk to her. “Alunsina?” I softly call her. She looks at me innocently. “You are so beautiful,” I say it out loud this time for her to hear. She really is a precious jewel. We talk, but this not about her. About us. “Quit your job,” I try to command her. I do not want her wasting herself on this immoral job of hers. I see tears forming in her eyes. She breathes deeper and louder. I see it. She is scared of me. She does not like being yelled at. Or maybe, she feels guilty. “No,” she answers. I will not force her to stop. I want her to but I will not force her. “I like you, Alunsina. I know it’s been a few days; not even a week after I knew your identity, but trust me when I say I like you,” I say quietly. I am scared. I do not like what I am feeling. It will start to get out of control until I can no longer stop myself. “No. You can’t like me. You are holy and I am the total opposite of that,” she says while her tears stream down her face. She likes me too. It shouldn’t be like that. We shouldn’t like each other.

“I meant as a friend,” I lied to her. I care for her so much that I am willing to protect her by pretending that I do not like her. People will think that she seduced me to get money from me. I will never be seen as the bad guy here, especially because I’m Spanish and she’s Filipina. They will blame her even if it was me who made the first move.

I wiped her tears using my hands. My fingers linger on her face longer and I realize that this infatuation that I have for her will evolve quickly. Her innocence is a beauty. “Okay. Just friends,” she replies to me. “Smile for me, will you? We are really good friends. I’d like to have company while I am still here in San Sebastian,” I tell her. Upon hearing my words, Alunsina smiles and bows her head down letting me know how shy she is. “Were friends, right? No need to be shy,” I say to her again. Unfortunately, the forty five minutes we had is now over and we have to live our normal lives again. “Let’s meet. 7 in the evening at the riverbank. The hidden part with a few trees around it?” I ask her. She throws a half smile and nods. We bid each other goodbye and went back to our businesses.

The next seven hours after our talk was dreadful. Seven hours just became a million hours. I am dying to see that smile again.

The sun sets early in December. It is already dark but the stars guide me to my destination. The stars shine so beautifully but nothing is more dashing than the beauty of Alunsina. She sees me and smiles. “You are late, Nestor,” she says, trying her best to push her shyness away. “I had to fix some things before I left. I’m sorry,” I apologize to her. No one should make that beauty of her wait! I sit next to her, on the blanket she brought. “The stars are the most beautiful things I have ever seen,” she tells me, attempting to start a conversation. “They are. But not as beautiful as your eyes,” I only stated a fact. “They are not used by people for lust though,” she says calmly. I was surprised with her statement. I cannot believe how her innocence stems out from her experiences. “You are special. I know they say that your virginity defines you as a person but no. Only God can judge you. And the man you will love will be the luckiest,” I tell her. “No one will accept and love me because of what I do,” she says in a soft voice. “I do. I accept you, Alunsina. I love you,” I tell her the truth. I am falling in love with her. She is an angel. “No you don’t, Nestor. I am being used by a number of boys every night to satisfy themselves. I have been subjected to an unlimited number of touching and groping on my private parts and I have no choice but to obey. I have been raped a number of times, one time even by a priest,” she tells me while sobbing. I am in great shock! Who raped her? It was not okay with me when I learned that she was selling sex, but learning that she did not even consent makes me furious! “Who was it?! Who was the priest?! Tell me!” I am scared because I think I know the answer.

The next day, the first thing I did after my mass was go to San Diego and look for Salvi. He waved at me when he saw me but I wasted no time. I immediately went straight to him and punched his face. His thin body is no match to me. “What is wrong with you, Nestor?!” I threw a second punch on his stomach which made him lie on the ground. “Eres pinche monstro! Why her, Salvi?!” I kick his guts and go down to hold his neck. “You like this? You like being harmed without your consent?” He growls and feels the pain of the punches I’ve given him. The sacristans hear the commotion and see that their priest is on the ground. “This is not over Salvi. I am not done with you,” I leave him, making sure that he will probably be in pain for about a week.

I come back to San Sebastian with tears slowly streaming down my cheeks. I love Alunsina. The pain she felt from Salvi will always leave me in pain too. I wonder how she manages to still stay tough even when she has gone through so many things in life at such a young age. I wish I could ease her pain. I wish I could make her feel special. I want to help her. I want to help her start again. Maybe this is the sign that I have been waiting for.

We meet again in our favourite spot three days after I went to San Diego. She is still the most beautiful amongst the stars in the heavens. What a wonderful creation. We barely meet and talk but I feel like I have known her for so long. I connect with her. We talk like we are more than friends but I am scared to make the first move. I am a priest. She is a prostitute. I do not want to add to her problems. I love her so much but I do not know if I can still manage to control my feelings. “Nestor?” she tries to get my attention. “Your smile is heavenly. You make me feel like I am a special person, that I am indeed significant in this world. You make me laugh all the time. You talk to me like I’m perfect, which I’m not. You make my heart beat so fast. I am falling in love, Nestor,” she says with utmost sincerity. “I love you, Alunsina. My heart is overjoyed. Nothing matters. Just you and me,” I do love her. She makes my mind go crazy and my tummy have butterflies. I would give her anything. I want to keep her, Lord. How? My calling from you is divine and genuine but I also want to be loved. Lord, is it wrong to fall in love? You told us that love is the greatest of all, yet we priests are forbidden from reciprocating romantic love. I know that I am not violating anything Lord. I just want more time to think but I think I will let this relationship be. I hold her cheeks in place with my hands and kiss her forehead goodnight.

As I lay in my bed tonight, I know that I will be facing the consequences of my action soon enough. Salvi knows and he has witnesses. In a few weeks, I’m sure that the bishop will call me to take me away from priesthood. I must think about this properly, or I can just accept that and marry Alunsina. This is a big decision for me. I love Alunsina. I love her so much, I’d risk my life for her. But I love what I do too. Being a priest is not an easy profession, but it definitely is rewarding spiritually. I’m still thinking which to compromise, unfortunately, I need to completely side on one only. No matter which one I choose, I would still be hurt because I will lose one part of me that I can never take back.

Alunsina’s love for me becomes more and more evident. Lord, she is really something, huh? She sneaks in sandwiches and notes in my room to make sure that I eat. Her smile is more beautiful now. The smile she has looks more inspired. When we meet in our spot, she brings food that she cook and lets me lie down on her lap while she feed me food and kisses. She’s young, I know but I don’t think love has an age requirement.

I bring Alunsina into my room one night because she said that she wants to talk to me as soon as possible. She faces me with all bravery and with tears on her eyes ready to fall. “I don’t want to shame you, Nestor. I love you. I am a whore! A young whore who just seduced you. And you are sinning because of me,” Her voice trembles. She is falling apart. My love, please stay still. Why? Why does she still think of me when it is her that is being shamed by townspeople? They say she is a whore who sells her body every night to different people, someone who sells her dignity for money. “Alunsina, I love you. Nothing matters, just you and me, remember?” I hug her really tight and I feel her wet tears rolling on my shoulders. She really is in pain. “You don’t understand. What we have; it won’t last long. This is forbidden. You will be removed from your priesthood, Nestor. I know how much you love your profession and I cannot take that away from you. My conscience cannot,” She talks a bit louder now and the sweetness is suddenly gone. “Alunsina, this is my life. I will do whatever I want to do. If I think that loving you is the best decision, then I will make that decision. Please let me love you. That’s all I ask,” I try to tell her without crying. “But I cannot...” and I kiss her lips, hard and slow, showing how intense my love for her is.

She doesn’t respond to my kiss. I hold her face with both my hands kiss her slowly, passionately. She returns my kiss and I can taste the bitterness of our love. “I love you,” I tell her. “I love you too,” she answers. And although our relationship was forbidden, I made love with the most wonderful lady in the world.

We continue our relationship and consistently meet near the river. She talks to me about her struggles in finding a new job. I know that she is trying really hard. She does this not only for herself but also for me. So that if I do leave priesthood, I would be able to marry to her and not be ashamed of her job. But I also learned that she has been receiving comments and threats from people. They noticed that Alunsina left prostitution and hanging out with me more often. They think that she is seducing me. I am scared for her. I would definitely give my life for her.

Townspeople look at me now with judgemental eyes. I feel so small and inferior. I do not want this feeling. I know that Alunsina feels harder than what I am experiencing now. I guess the rumors really have spread. The bishop is asking me to go to him as soon as I can. Maybe this is the time. If I am not fulfilled with my profession because I am in the Philippines, then maybe it is time for me let go of priesthood. Maybe this is God’s will; for me to get married and serve in other ways.

I go to the bishop and prepare myself. If God wants me to not be a priest anymore, then maybe it is okay. My Alunsina will not be happy about this, but I love her too as much as I love serving God. I enter the room and I find the bishop waiting for me. “Nestor, I’ve been receiving reports about you. Why? You have been the most obedient parochial priest. And why a prostitute?” he said with disappointment in his voice. “I am just human and I have emotions. I love her. I love her without conditions. If your choice is to stop me from being a priest so that I can marry her and not be a disgrace to the Church, then I will respect your decision,” I tell him. “You think that I will make this easy for you? You have sinned against the Lord! You made your choice when you loved that unchaste lady,” he said. Is he threatening me? Is he telling me that he is not banning me from the Church yet?

“The Pope wants you back in Spain. He finally reviewed your efforts and realized that you can now come back. I have not yet reported to them about what you have done. This is your call now, Nestor. You either go back to Spain to serve the Lord harmoniously like what you’ve dreamt of or you can stop being a priest and marry your woman. This is a choice that you have to really think of,” He tells me the worst nightmare of my life. I have been avoiding this decision for so long and I have never realized that I really never made a decision. I love Alunsina but I want to go back to Spain too. I ask him to give me more time to think and leave the room.

I go to our favourite spot and find Alunsina there waiting for me. Her smile still makes me fall in love with her. I cannot make the choice. Not now. She must not know. I love her too but I am still contemplating the consequences of my decision. “Are you okay, love? I know that face. You cannot hide that you are worried, Nestor. What is it?” she asks innocently. “You are stunningly beautiful tonight,” I try to focus the conversation on her. She will not know about the offer. “Are you okay?” she asks again. I sob silently. I do not want to lose her. I cannot lose her. She is my life already. “Hey, are you alright? Why are you crying, Nestor? Tell me. I am here for you,” she says. I kiss her lips hard and deep. All the emotions are there. I want to stay like this forever. I want to freeze this moment and live in it. This might be the last time. I do not want it to be the last time. I love her so much. I run out of breath and let go of the kiss. “Nestor, what is wrong? Please tell me,” Alunsina asks. “I just love you so much. I want to stay in this moment,” I tell her. I do not know if she believed what I said. I just don’t want her to worry. I know that she is trying really hard to be the best for me. We spend the night in our favourite spot just to talk and went home at around 3:00 in the morning.

Three days after, I go out and do the novena. I ask for God’s guidance. I want him to forgive me and enlighten me to make the right decision. After the night of our meet-up, I realize how much she loves me. I have a decision. I love her. I choose her.

I am going to tell the bishop about my decision. I am ready to leave priesthood and live as a civilian with my future wife. I go to the bishop and knock on his door. “Sir, I have a decision,” I calmly tell him. “I’m assuming you chose the Church. I have made this easier for you. I have called in Alunsina Macaraig and told her about the offer to you. Now you don’t have to worry about her,” he tells me like it’s a joke. I stand up from my chair quickly and pound a fist on his table. “No. No. I do not choose you. I choose Alunsina. I choose her. Why did you tell her?! It was up to me whether or not I would tell her. It is my choice!” I say to his face. I run as fast as I can away from him and slam the door. I need to go to Alunsina. I must reach her now. I do not want her to misunderstand this. Where could she be?

I went to their house as soon as I reach San Sebastian and ask her mother where she is. “She was called by the bishop so she went. She haven’t returned since,” she tells me. Oh no. She should have gotten here first. But there is still one place to check. Near the river. I ride a kalesa to save time and talk to her about it. I want to explain to her that I choose her. That I love her so much. That I would sacrifice everything for her. That I am finally ready to be with her and fight for her.

I reach our favourite spot and see something unbelievable. No. Is it what I think it is? No. This cannot happen. I run as fast as I can only to find Alunsina’s lifeless body on the ground. “Alunsina, no! What did you do?!” I believe that I am just talking to myself now. She cut her wrists open, letting blood escape from her body. I try to locate her heartbeat and hope to find any kind of movement. Please stay with me Alunsina. I chose you. I chose you. I don’t want to lose you. Suddenly everything flashes back. I will not be able to see her shy smile, her brown beautiful eyes. I will not be able to hear her sweet calm voice and her innocence. Because I didn’t make the choice soon enough, I lost the most important person in my life. I read the paper that she holds on her fingers.

“Ever since I met you, you became my life. I tried to be perfect for you, for us, so you won’t have to be ashamed of me. I know you aren’t. But I also know how much you want to go back to Spain. I know you will choose me, so I will have to make this decision for you. Don’t forget me. I will live in your heart and love you for all eternity.”

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Opinione: Nelle Fauci Del Mostro

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Percorrendo nelle tenebre le strade di campagna nei dintorni di Firenze, si prova tuttora un senso di inquietudine, di disagio. Come se tanti occhi cattivi ci osservassero con malignità. L'aria sembra ancora permeata da una presenza invisibile e terribile: il Mostro di Firenze. Nonostante si siano susseguite indagini, inchieste, processi, condanne e assoluzioni, questo mistero è rimasto indelebile nel tempo, una lunga scia di sangue con tanti interrogativi e poche risposte certe. Proprio per questo motivo, nelle nostre menti, il Mostro è sempre lì, cristallizzato nei meandri della memoria. Nonostante siamo ormai trascorsi molti anni dai cosiddetti delitti del Mostro di Firenze, ima catena di omicidi che per quasi un ventennio insanguinò le colline e le campagne toscane, l'alone di mistero e di inquietudine che aleggia intorno a questa figura si percepisce ancora oggi. Una vera e propria leggenda allo stesso pari di efferati serial killer che hanno lasciato una traccia indelebile nel ventesimo secolo. Seguendo questo fil rouge gli autori hanno partorito dieci storie intense ed enigmatiche nello stesso tempo, dieci racconti in grado di incatenare il lettore e di trascinarlo con forza nei meandri della follia.

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Una serie di racconti ispirati al Mostro di Firenze. Alcuni più interessanti e coinvolgenti di altri, ognuno con uno stile diverso e diversi per trame e punti di vista. Particolare e ben fatto, non male come lettura. Se volete una lettura non molto impegnativa (potete fermarvi dopo ogni racconto) e piuttosto scorrevole (dipende dall'autore e dal suo stile, come dai gusti personali di chi legge). - Due, di Mirko Tondi Un vecchio che ama spiare dalla finestra, una notte si trova a vedere qualcosa di unico che gli farà riprendere in mano alcuni ricordi e carte, portandolo a compiere una decisione "particolare"... - Phobia, di Arianna Niccolai Dario Moriani era in macchina con la sua fidanzata, da giovane, appartato per fare l'amore, quando qualcosa si è mosso e li ha spaventati. Erano gli anni del Mostro di Firenze e credettero di essere salvi per miracolo. Ma quella paura non passa, resta dentro anche per anni... - Francobolli E Vecchi Castelli, di Paolo Piani Antonello Carta è un giovane che sta studiando per diventare profiling, ed il suo professore è un puntiglioso (stronzo) che mette sotto pressione ogni studente. Per la pausa invernale propone a tutti una tesi, con una base comune: una lettera inviata dal Mostro di Firenze alla polizia. Ognuno deve, da questa, individuare una strategia per trarre un profilo. Antonello è subito attratto da un particolare e decide di indagare: il francobollo.... -  La Finestra Sul Mondo, di Andrei Gamannossi Uno dei racconti più brevi e particolari, del quale non so bene cosa dire per non esagerare. Il protagonista è una persona qualunque, che in una bella notte si trova in mezzo alla natura, da solo.... - Il Mostro E' Tornato, di Stefano Rossi Nella città di Pietraccio vengono ritrovati i corpi di due amanti, brutalmente assassinati come nel rituale de Il Mostro di Firenze. Il blogger Torsolo va ad investigare, per cercare di dare ai suoi follower la sua versione dei fatti, esaminando la scena e vari dettagli che potrà trovare, ma.... - Eros E Morte, di Sergio Calamandrei La vicenda è ambientata negli anni in cui il Mostro uccideva. Renzo è un giovane ed è spaventato da lui, ma c'è anche molto altro a fargli paura, come le malattie che iniziano a farsi notare nel mondo del sesso, anche eterosessuale. Ma tutto sembra venir dimenticato una l in cui incontra Gianna e scopre con tristezza che hanno solo una notte prima che lei parta. - Amori Perigliosi, di Vario Cambi Anche questa vicenda è ambientata negli anni in cui il Mostro seminava paura. Leandro è un giovane che trova un lavoro come carrozziere, con una fidanzata "storica" sempre più pressante e una collega molto affascinante, le cose iniziano a farsi confuse..... - Ouroboros, di Bernardo Fallani Mentre una "setta" misteriosa si aggira nell'ombra, Matteo e Gaia sono solo due giovani innamorati che si stanno affacciando alla vera vita e che stanno per scoprire quanto l'intimità abbia livelli diversi e profondi. - La Voce Delle Macchine, di Simone Innocenti Un racconto ben fatto, ma fuori tema (non ho trovato tracce ne riferimenti al Mostro). Parla di un uomo e della sua ossessione maniacale per la concentrazione... - Il Mostro Dentro, di Paolo Romboni Davide Ferrucci è al suo primo giorno come disegnatore per la polizia, quando un caso particolarmente truce arriva in centrale e l'Ispettore lo coinvolge nelle indagini. from Blogger http://ift.tt/2vYCKYV via IFTTT

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