Chapter - LA MADONNA COL CART
Brother!
Sister!
Before you start to read, 'a look at the cover of this book. You will find a small anomaly.
The child who is in the arms of the Virgin Mary instead of the bird original painting by an anonymous fifteenth century makes a cart like a toy preparatogli S. Joseph with a piece of wood.
The replacement is due to me and what I mean. I was 36 years and Pope Pius XII had called me to Rome to head the Youth Catholic Action. The matter then was not a small thing. Today, the Catholic movement is shattered into a thousand rivulets: then the 'organization and was only brought together half a million young people with fourteen newspapers and more than twenty thousand associations. I often felt overwhelmed by the burden of responsibility and then I knew 'cos it was the anxiety especially when traveling from the periphery to Rome.
Yes, Rome was my anguish, the job beyond my strength, it is indicated mystery that emanated from those ancient stones of the capital, to meet the eyes of the square S. Peter, who spoke only the tourist but beautiful harmony that gave me a terrible pain and sometimes paralyzed me.
I had at home a copy of that picture quite famous. I held dear to me because I liked it and told me many things.
I do not know how it happened, I know that I felt compelled to take the bird with the brushes and replace the cart symbol of my family name. By doing that
children's drawings was as if I said to her: "Is' Careful you. I would be happy to be a toy in the hands of your child especially now that I'm in trouble, but is' careful yourself. "
not completely passed me the anguish of Rome, but what is certain is that when I felt the pang, thinking part of that picture so clear I could stay calm and finish the day in peace.
I always say that, in the tough moments, my thoughts on that part where Jesus was clutching his wooden cart, another sign of creaking cart on the dusty roads of the world.
I must say though that my relationship with Mary, the mother of Jesus, were spoiled the romance of the Marian devotion that raged before the Council and that gradually emptied of content.
What was Queen Mary and Queen! it was a creature that could do no wrong, who was walking on the streets of Nazareth with his clear vision of all things, incapable of sin and doubt, has little to say to anyone who is distressed and drag in the desert of faith with great effort.
The exaltation of this creature made by the fanaticism of hallucinations, so many in the Catholic world, it ends up empty of real theological content of the worship of the one who is none other than the Mother of God, and that does not need to be considered recommendations. Just do not betray the Gospel. I never
then amazed to see in these decades in the younger generations drying up the source of love for Mary of Nazareth and sellers of rosaries out of business.
was necessary that it happen.
As with many other things, had to start over.
We did not start from scratch with the Bible considered the days of my youth, a book banned?
We did not start from scratch with the liturgy expressed in the status quo before the Council of gestures quite cold, in a language unintelligible to the crowd as Latin?
We started from scratch with the Church in the past regarded as a clerical pyramid, while the Council has it outlined as' People of God "on their way to Earth Promise? Well
even for Madonna, even if we start from scratch this "start from scratch 'is only an impression because, in reality, things continue, because in the Church, which is a living body, a living reality, everything continues.
What was Queen Mary and Queen! it was a creature that could do no wrong, who was walking on the streets of Nazareth with his clear vision of all things, incapable of sin and doubt, has little to say to anyone who is distressed and drag in the desert of faith with great effort.
The exaltation of this creature made by the fanaticism of hallucinations, so many in the Catholic world, it ends up empty of real theological content of the worship of the one who is none other than the Mother of God, and that does not need to be considered recommendations. Just do not betray the Gospel. I never
then amazed to see in these decades in the younger generations drying up the source of love for Mary of Nazareth and sellers of rosaries out of business.
was necessary that it happen.
As with many other things, had to start over.
We did not start from scratch with the Bible considered the days of my youth, a book banned?
We did not start from scratch with the liturgy expressed in the status quo before the Council of gestures quite cold, in a language unintelligible to the crowd as Latin?
We started from scratch with the Church in the past regarded as a clerical pyramid, while the Council has it outlined as' People of God "on their way to Earth Promise? Well
even for Madonna, even if we start from scratch this "start from scratch 'is only an impression because, in reality, things continue, because in the Church, which is a living body, a living reality, everything continues.
For me to start again was an important moment.
It was during my long sojourn in the desert. Hoggar
I lived in a fraternity of Little Brothers of Father de Foucauld and I earn my bread by working on cross-Tit, Tazrouk, In Amguel as meteorologist. I liked the job very well because the support he gave me the opportunity to live in the environment that I tried: the desert and join the daily toil of the great silences and the possibility of prolonged prayer. In
recently met the Tuaregs who lived in the tent, the aratini who cultivated the oases and the Arabs from the north and mozabiti who dedicated themselves to commerce.
I was especially fond of the Tuaregs who had encampments along the "Guelta (rock basin where the water emerges). and in the highlands and seize the opportunities of my trip to stay with them in the evening after work.
was during a meeting with them that I learned about an interesting fact.
I learned, almost by accident, a girl of 'camp had been betrothed to a young person of another camp but had not yet gone to live with her husband because they were too young. Instinctively, I related the fact to the passage of the Gospel of Luke which tells its own that the Virgin Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, but had not yet gone to live with him (Matthew 1, 18).
quell'accampamento going over two years later, spontaneously, as if to find reasons of conversation I asked if the marriage had taken place.
noticed a disturbance in my party followed by an embarrassed silence, obvious.
I was silent too. But the evening drawing water at a "Guelta" a few hundred meters from the 'camp, seeing one of the servants of the owner, I could not resist the curiosity to know why the awkward silence of the head of 'camp.
The servant looked around cautiously, but having much confidence in me because 'marabout' (religious-man of God according to Islamic terminology), I made a sign that I knew well through his hand on the throat with a gesture characteristic of the Arabs when they want say 'has been slaughtered. "
The reason?
pregnant before their marriage had been discovered and betrayed the family's honor demanded that sacrifice.
I had a chill thinking about the girl who was killed because he had not been faithful to her future husband.
Compline in the evening, under the Saharan sky, I wanted to reread the text of Matthew in the conception of Jesus in Mary. I lit a
candle because it was dark and the night was moonless. I read
: "His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph. Now before they came to live together she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph was a man who just not wanting to publicly denounce it took the resolution to repudiate her silence " (Matthew 1, 19).
So Joseph was not to condemn and Joachim, Mary's father, had not assumed the role of Khomeini killing of turn as Mary would have liked the law. " Moses told us that this type of women are killed" (see Deuteronomy 22.24).
I remember like now. I heard Mary sitting on the sand close by, small, weak, helpless, with his big belly, with his inability to bend, silent.
blew out the candle.
In the dark night I did not see the stars.
I could see around us so many eyes that shone like the eyes of dragons threaten when the lambs.
They were the eyes of all inhabitants of Nazareth, who spied the girl and asked her mother with all the power of unbelief they are capable men, women and even more: "How did you get that son, wretched, immoral ! "
What a night! What
know the answer?
What is God the father of this child?
Who believes me?
I'm quiet.
God knows.
God provides ...
Poor Sweet Mary, mother's little girl. You start hurting your career!
How do you deal with so many enemies?
Who do you believe?
It was during my long sojourn in the desert. Hoggar
I lived in a fraternity of Little Brothers of Father de Foucauld and I earn my bread by working on cross-Tit, Tazrouk, In Amguel as meteorologist. I liked the job very well because the support he gave me the opportunity to live in the environment that I tried: the desert and join the daily toil of the great silences and the possibility of prolonged prayer. In
recently met the Tuaregs who lived in the tent, the aratini who cultivated the oases and the Arabs from the north and mozabiti who dedicated themselves to commerce.
I was especially fond of the Tuaregs who had encampments along the "Guelta (rock basin where the water emerges). and in the highlands and seize the opportunities of my trip to stay with them in the evening after work.
was during a meeting with them that I learned about an interesting fact.
I learned, almost by accident, a girl of 'camp had been betrothed to a young person of another camp but had not yet gone to live with her husband because they were too young. Instinctively, I related the fact to the passage of the Gospel of Luke which tells its own that the Virgin Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, but had not yet gone to live with him (Matthew 1, 18).
quell'accampamento going over two years later, spontaneously, as if to find reasons of conversation I asked if the marriage had taken place.
noticed a disturbance in my party followed by an embarrassed silence, obvious.
I was silent too. But the evening drawing water at a "Guelta" a few hundred meters from the 'camp, seeing one of the servants of the owner, I could not resist the curiosity to know why the awkward silence of the head of 'camp.
The servant looked around cautiously, but having much confidence in me because 'marabout' (religious-man of God according to Islamic terminology), I made a sign that I knew well through his hand on the throat with a gesture characteristic of the Arabs when they want say 'has been slaughtered. "
The reason?
pregnant before their marriage had been discovered and betrayed the family's honor demanded that sacrifice.
I had a chill thinking about the girl who was killed because he had not been faithful to her future husband.
Compline in the evening, under the Saharan sky, I wanted to reread the text of Matthew in the conception of Jesus in Mary. I lit a
candle because it was dark and the night was moonless. I read
: "His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph. Now before they came to live together she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph was a man who just not wanting to publicly denounce it took the resolution to repudiate her silence " (Matthew 1, 19).
So Joseph was not to condemn and Joachim, Mary's father, had not assumed the role of Khomeini killing of turn as Mary would have liked the law. " Moses told us that this type of women are killed" (see Deuteronomy 22.24).
I remember like now. I heard Mary sitting on the sand close by, small, weak, helpless, with his big belly, with his inability to bend, silent.
blew out the candle.
In the dark night I did not see the stars.
I could see around us so many eyes that shone like the eyes of dragons threaten when the lambs.
They were the eyes of all inhabitants of Nazareth, who spied the girl and asked her mother with all the power of unbelief they are capable men, women and even more: "How did you get that son, wretched, immoral ! "
What a night! What
know the answer?
What is God the father of this child?
Who believes me?
I'm quiet.
God knows.
God provides ...
Poor Sweet Mary, mother's little girl. You start hurting your career!
How do you deal with so many enemies?
Who do you believe?
That night I heard for the first time I was approaching the mystery of Mary.
For the first time I did not see on 'altar immobile as a statue of wax, clothes decorated with a queen, but her sister beside me, sitting on the sand in the world, as worn with sandals and a lot of my fatigue in veins.
Then I understood why her cousin Elizabeth that Mary had gone to visit after those events (it always comes willingly from their environment when it is with the big belly and the eyes of the neighbors look at you in a certain way Puritan), could say at the end of the story that Mary had made:
" Blessed are you who believed."
Yes, truly blessed!
Mary, it takes courage to believe in these things!
is difficult for us to believe what you say there testifying that her son is not the result of an adventure that night do not want to explain.
But it is difficult especially for you!
" Blessed are you who believed" (Luke 1:45).
is the most we can say to a girl, simple, humble, poor, who had the good fortune to talk with angels, she is nothing, and was told that will have a son who will be the Holy son of 'High, yes, you, the last and smallest "remnant" of Israel.
"Blessed are you who believed, Mary" (Luke 1:45).
For the first time I did not see on 'altar immobile as a statue of wax, clothes decorated with a queen, but her sister beside me, sitting on the sand in the world, as worn with sandals and a lot of my fatigue in veins.
Then I understood why her cousin Elizabeth that Mary had gone to visit after those events (it always comes willingly from their environment when it is with the big belly and the eyes of the neighbors look at you in a certain way Puritan), could say at the end of the story that Mary had made:
" Blessed are you who believed."
Yes, truly blessed!
Mary, it takes courage to believe in these things!
is difficult for us to believe what you say there testifying that her son is not the result of an adventure that night do not want to explain.
But it is difficult especially for you!
" Blessed are you who believed" (Luke 1:45).
is the most we can say to a girl, simple, humble, poor, who had the good fortune to talk with angels, she is nothing, and was told that will have a son who will be the Holy son of 'High, yes, you, the last and smallest "remnant" of Israel.
"Blessed are you who believed, Mary" (Luke 1:45).
That evening on the sand, near the "Guelta" I decided to choose Issakarassem of Mary as a teacher of the faith.
I had found a vital contact with her. It was no longer a character that I 'worship', was the sister of my heart, traveling companion, the mistress of my faith.
Yes, faith.
And what I mean. You need to know, brothers, that the march of faith I did across e. .. walk.
My luck was that it did not tremble in 'darkness and did not let go up even when I'd had enough.
I helped my years in the wilderness even though it was there that I met the night ", as described by S. John of the Cross.
Now I am a brother to all those who call themselves atheists (and few) and even more of those (many) who find it difficult to believe and do not yet know the true terms of the problem.
When I'm dead - and I hope soon because I know the Lord and desires to see his face - if you come on my grave and if you think it possible to communicate between the United States, do not ask me to pray for you in order to heal this or that evil . Ask only that you pray for your faith.
is the only gift that deserves pray.
Well if I do, I'll do: watch the eyes of Mary of Nazareth in silence and try to draw from the contemplation of which she had so much courage to believe in what you need.
brothers and sisters, I have opened my heart, I told you everything.
Now if I heard you put in your pocket the pink rio. Maybe it will be years before they recite her going. No matter, keep it close.
will help you. If anything, when you pass under the fingers, just say
I had found a vital contact with her. It was no longer a character that I 'worship', was the sister of my heart, traveling companion, the mistress of my faith.
Yes, faith.
And what I mean. You need to know, brothers, that the march of faith I did across e. .. walk.
My luck was that it did not tremble in 'darkness and did not let go up even when I'd had enough.
I helped my years in the wilderness even though it was there that I met the night ", as described by S. John of the Cross.
Now I am a brother to all those who call themselves atheists (and few) and even more of those (many) who find it difficult to believe and do not yet know the true terms of the problem.
When I'm dead - and I hope soon because I know the Lord and desires to see his face - if you come on my grave and if you think it possible to communicate between the United States, do not ask me to pray for you in order to heal this or that evil . Ask only that you pray for your faith.
is the only gift that deserves pray.
Well if I do, I'll do: watch the eyes of Mary of Nazareth in silence and try to draw from the contemplation of which she had so much courage to believe in what you need.
brothers and sisters, I have opened my heart, I told you everything.
Now if I heard you put in your pocket the pink rio. Maybe it will be years before they recite her going. No matter, keep it close.
will help you. If anything, when you pass under the fingers, just say
Ave Maria
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