THE PERISTEFANON OF PRUDENTIUS TIME OF MARTYRS

The punch on the table given by Thomas Aquinas when he was eating at a dinner with the King of France resonates in the realms of history:

– Conclussus is against Manicheans. THAT'S ALL FOR THE END

The mute ox spoke after writing a long and enlightened treatise against the Manicheans, a heresy originating in Persia under the auspices of the belief that Ozmuz and Ahriman ride the same horse and trot around the world throughout generations and centuries. They considered that Good and Evil are of the same divine nature.

St. Thomas corrects them. God is Good but allows Evil. That's the catch.

In view of the Palestinian children murdered by the new Herod of the moment, the question arises: where is God? How is it that he allows cruelties?

The Spanish poet from Zaragoza, Prudencio Clemente, comes to give us another answer: “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of Christians, whatever religion they profess.”

In this case, the Islamic religion. The tyrants must understand this. Vita volans.

The days fly by and life goes by and those who use weapons and other cruelties of their weapons of extermination (Zelenski, Biden, Van der Leyden, the satraps of Brussels, Puigdemont, Sanchez and all those weeds that want to cut the throat of our country) will also have their time.

Meanwhile, Manichaeism reigns. It is not from God but there are many who profess it. Prudencio makes in his books a song to submission and non-violence.

Born at the end of the 3rd century when the Catholic Church had not yet established its beliefs; it was born in the East as a branch of Judaism.

Rome believed it had put an end to it when in 69 AD Titus' legions razed Jerusalem and defeated the Nazarene guerrillas.

With their feet chained and with rings on their backs and the Seven-Branch Candelabrum on their backs, as can be seen on the rostral column of the Emperor Trajan in the Eternal City, they believed they had put an end to the rebellion.

There was a difference: while the Hebrews, a nationalist and racist people, did not make proselytes or admit catechists, the rebels of the catacombs did not preach war or conspiracy against the empire, they preached love and forgiveness.

They refused to burn incense to the gods because they considered them false and this represented a greater threat.

The Romans considered the cult of the emperor sacred. The stigma began to permeate the legions, the soldiers refused to fight, the tribunes of the plebs hid in the catacombs, the matrons took a vow of chastity and refused to have sexual relations with their husbands.

They were universalists, they did not adhere to a restricted religion received through the blood of their mothers (Judaism) but proclaimed love, charity and universal non-violence (all).

Among Christians we are all children of God. This was the germ of the destruction of the empire and the spark that spread the conflagration of the nine persecutions.

Prudentius, born in Caesar Augusta and praetor of Tarraconensis, may have sent to the torture some of the Roman citizens who were reluctant to burn incense, but when he was older he seems to have accepted the baptism of Bishop Valerius and, repentant of his past life, wrote this Crown dedicated to the martyrs of Tarraconensis and Ulterior.

There were 19: Eulalia, Lorenzo, Casiano, Celedonio, Emeterio, Hipólito, Justo and Pastor, children of Alcalá Emerenciana, Quiteria, Quirino, Fructuoso, Augurio, Elogio. Acisclo, Zoilo, Felix de Calahorra, Cucufate de Barcelona and Vicente.

Thus, blood, seed of Christians, a true reminder for these times or rather for all the eras that humanity has lived through.

God remains silent in the meantime.

The common people will abhor the memory of tyrants but will eternally praise those who gave their lives not only for Christ but also for any noble ideal, whether for the Fatherland or for giving their lives to save their brothers.

The poet from Zaragoza whose dithyrambs are these reminds us thus:

“carpite purpureas violas

sanguinem crocos metite

non caret his genialis hiemens

laxat et arva tepens glacies”

Gather the purple violets.

Harvest the blood crocuses.

Winter is not exempt from these wonderful things.

The ice loosens and warms the fields.