2023-02-18

JIMMY CARTER ENTRA EN UN ASILO PARA ANCIANOS. A LOS 98 AÑOS YO COMO PERIODISTA CORRESPONSAL ESPAÑOL EN NUEVA YORK NARRÉ SU MANDATO Y RECUERDO A ESTE HOMBRE AUSTERO Y BUEN CRISTIANO CON CARIÑO. SALIÓ DE LA NADA SU PADRE ERA UN MANISERO DE GEORGIA Y SE HIZO POPULAR DURANTE SU MANDATO LA FRASE MY NAME IS JIMMY CARTER.... JIMMY WHO?...

 ESTA NOTICIA NO DICE NADA SI HA FALLECIDO SU QUERIDA ESPOSA ROSALYN Y QUE PASÓ CON SU HIJA AMY

 LO PUBLICA LOS ANGELES TIMES

Jimmy Carter, oldest living former U.S. president, placed in hospice care

Former President Carter smiling
Former President Carter teaching Sunday school at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, Ga., in 2019. 
(AP)

Former U.S. President Carter has been placed in hospice care, deciding to avoid additional “medical intervention,” the Carter Center announced Saturday.

The 98-year-old former president made his decision following a series of hospital visits, according to the Carter Center, a nonprofit group set up to carry out charitable activities supported by the former president and former First Lady Rosalynn Carter.

“After a series of short hospital stays, former U.S. President Jimmy Carter today decided to spend his remaining time at home with his family and receive hospice care instead of additional medical intervention. He has the full support of his family and his medical team,” the Carter Center said in a statement.

“The Carter family asks for privacy during this time and is grateful for the concern shown by his many admirers,” the nonprofit said.

The statement did not say why Carter had been in and out of the hospital.

Carter is currently the oldest living former U.S. president. He was elected in 1976 and served a single four-year term, throwing himself into philanthropic activities in the years that followed.

Всенощное бдение 18 февраля 2023 года, Сретенский монастырь, г. Москва

RUEGO ESTA TARDE Y PIDO UN CARISMA ESPECIAL A LA VIRGEN SANTISIMA QUE SALVE SI ES LA VOLUNTAD DEL ALTISIMO A MI VECINA MARIA DEL CARMEN ALEMAN ARTILES HIJA DE UN GENERAL DE INFANGTERIA LAUREADO. SE DEBATE ENTRE LA VIDA Y LA MUERTE OH SEÑOR ESCUCHA NUESTRAS SUPLICAS QUE VUELVA A LA VIDA O EN TODO CASO DALE UNA MUERTE DULCE A ESTA BRAVA ESPAÑOLA SE LO MERECE

 

GIVE REST, O LORD!

    

A candle burns on the table for the reposed, weeping waxen tears. My heart also weeps vaguely... how are you over there? How are you?...

Give rest, O Lord!...

Then a familiar plot, dusted with snow. Well hello my dear! Here we are, we’ve finally made it here on ancestor Saturday.

“Mama, mama, is that your grandma?”

Do you see—my two sons. They look just like you. And my husband, the priest, serving a litia on your grave. Everything has come together in my life just as you dreamed. Only, we can’t invite you over, we can talk about our daily difficulties and problems, I can’t listen to your advice… But you didn’t even make it to our wedding, and you dreamed of it so… But we won’t talk about the sad things.

Give rest, O Lord!

I remember every little detail of every corner of your apartment. A huge book shelf, where you spent so much time, a long, dark corridor, icons in wooden cases. My memory obligingly also preserves the inimitable aroma of herbal tea, our long sitting together, and searching the stars at night. And I also remember how we would go every evening at the summerhouse to watch the sunset over the river.

And our favorite park… Meandering walks tearing me away from my usual daily rush, the rustling of tall pine trees and the singing of birds. Sakharov, Solzhenitsyn, Vyshnevskaya, Rastropovich, Pogudin… You never ran out of things to talk about.

Now I see everything that seemed mundane and ordinary in a completely different light…

Give rest, O Lord!...

And you know, I stopped dreaming about you only recently. Exhaustion and lack of sleep took the upper hand. But before that, for several years in a row I would dream with enviable consistency the same thing: that you are alive. I would chide you saying, “You frightened me!” and talk, talk, talk… telling you everything. Then I would suddenly wake up. Such was the work of my subconscious…

Give rest, O Lord!...

You looked death in the face long before it came, when you were hit with the terrible diagnosis of cancer. The doctors said there was no chance. But you survived. It was God’s miracle. And you lived nearly twenty years after that. Almost twenty years of “new” life, in which Christ and His Church occupied first place.

I remember how you came to the conclusion, sighing, “After all, what happiness it is to be able to walk to church yourself and pray!” And how you suffered the price of those words…

Give rest, O Lord!

Death. It came without warning. Like a thunderbolt across a clear sky—grandpa’s phone call, a taxi, the ambulance doctor with a death statement. And then, as in a fog, the forty days.

On that day, as usual on the feast of one of our favorite saints—the Healer Panteleimon—a trip to a holy spring in his honor had been planned. Liturgy in the morning, Holy Communion… and after the meal you were no longer with us. Perhaps that is how it should have been for someone who for so many years had prayed for a “peaceful end”? And you always added, “Lord forbid that I ever be a burden on anyone in my old age, that they should have to take care of me.” You are no longer here, and no one is taking care of you.

Give rest, O Lord!...

When I was a teenager you would often take me with you to another town, to your parents’ grave. I just didn’t get it: Why are you talking with stone slabs in a graveyard? Oh, alright, I thought, everyone has their quirks.

Well, you know, lately I’ve been suffering from the same quirk…

Ksenia Manyakova
Translation by OrthoChristian.com


SABADO DE DIMITRI HOY LOS ORTODOXOS CONMEMORAN LA FIESTA DE LOS FIELES DIFUNTOS

 

ON THE PRAYERFUL REMEMBRANCE OF THE DEAD

Sermon on Ancestor Saturday, Meat-fare Week

    

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!

For he is not a God of the dead, but of the living: for all live unto him (Lk. 20:38), said Christ the Savior to the Sadducees, who did not believe in the resurrection of the dead.

Beloved in Christ brothers and sisters! The Holy Orthodox Christian Church, firmly believing in these true words of the Savior, always preaches this undeniable truth for all to hear—that a person’s life does not end at death. What do we see dying? Only the body, which is taken from the earth and again returns to earth. The flesh decomposes and turns to dust, while the person himself, with all of his senses and his whole immortal soul, continues to live, only crossing from this world into the next world beyond the grave. It would follow that our association between the living and the dead is not disrupted by death but continues to exist.

Based on this truth, the Church always, beginning with Old Testament times and especially in New Testament times, Apostolic times, has performed and continues to perform commemorations and prays for our reposed brothers in the faith. In offering daily prayers for its reposed children, the Holy Church encourages all the faithful do this, so that they would with one voice and one heart offer fervent prayers to the Throne of God, asking that He give rest in blessed places to the souls of our relatives who have fallen asleep. We are moved to prayer for the reposed by our Christian love, which unites all in Jesus Christ in one brotherhood. Those reposed in our faith are our neighbors, whom God commands us to love as we love ourselves. For God did not say, “Love your neighbors while they live on earth. It would follow that the Lord does not limit love of neighbor to this earthly existence, but extends it also to the eternal world beyond the grave. But how if not by commemoration, if not by prayer can we prove our love for those who have passed over into life beyond the grave? Each of us desires that our close ones would not forget us and would pray for us after our departure. So that this would come to pass, we ourselves must commemorate the deadWith what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again (Mt. 7:2) says the Savior. Therefore those who commemorate the dead the Lord will commemorate, and people who have departed this world will also remember them. Great is the consolation and reward for someone who saves his neighbor from temporary misfortune, but much greater is the reward and consolation awaiting someone who through his prayers helps his reposed neighbor to receive forgiveness of sins and pass from the dark dungeons of hell into the bright and blessed habitations.

Do the reposed need our prayers? Yes, they do, because prayer brings great benefit to them. The fact of the matter is that after death there are two eternities: either the eternal blessedness of the righteous, or the eternal torments of sinners. We also know that there is no man who has lived on earth who has never sinned. Therefore it is also decidedly true that we are born in sins, that we live our lives in sins, and in sins do we finish our earthly existence. But do all who have sinned offer complete and sincere repentance before death? After all, death can overtake a person in a state of serious illness, when he’s lost his memory and his emotional powers are completely exhausted. It’s obvious that a person in such a state cannot remember his deeds and repent of them—and so he dies in his sins. Death often strikes unexpectedly, and if the person has not repented at all, he will also depart with his sins. Then he can no longer help himself by any means. A person can only change his lot while he is alive, by doing good works and praying for his salvation to the Lord. So, in such cases prayer for the dead is very necessary and brings them great benefit.

Many of our close ones have long since left the earth, but our loving hearts cannot forget them, long for them, perhaps even more than for the living. In like manner the reposed also look in our direction from the other world, burning with love for those here who were especially close to their hearts. If one of these dead has attained justification before God, then answering our love with mutual love he sends down heavenly help to us; but those who have not attained justification can receive great help from our prayers to ease their lot beyond the grave. The time will come when we will see them. How joyful it will be to hear those words of gratitude for our prayers! They will say, “You remembered me, you did not forget me, and helped me in my time of need. I thank you.” And on the contrary, how bitter it will be to hear the reproach for those who did not pray for the dead! “You did not remember me, you did not pray for me, you didn’t help me in my time of need, and I reproach you for this.”

The state of the reposed is like that of a man swimming along a very dangerous river. Prayer for the reposed is like saving rope that a person throws to his drowning neighbor. If somehow the gates of eternity would be opened before us and we could see these hundreds and thousands of millions of people striving painfully for a peaceful harbor, what heart would not be stricken and overwhelmed at the sight of those people of one faith and family, wordlessly calling for our prayerful help!

Just how needed prayer is for the reposed, how there really does exist a connection with the world beyond the grave can be seen from the amazing but true story I will now tell you from the life of one of the parishes of our Russian Church. In the village of Lysogorka, the priest died. Another priest was sent to replace him—a young priest, who unexpectedly died at his first service there, right in the altar. Yet another priest was sent, but the same thing happened to him—on the first day of his service there, after they sang the Our Father and the verse before Communion, the priest did not come out of the altar with the Holy Gifts for a long time, and when the church warden went into the altar he saw the priest lying dead in full vestments at the Holy Throne. All were horrified when they learned of this mysterious death, and not knowing its cause, said that some onerous sin must burdening this parish if the victims of it are two young and completely innocent lives. Rumors about this spread throughout the region, and no other priests could be persuaded to come and serve at that parish.

Only one elder-monk agreed. “I am going to die anyway. I’ll go and serve the first and last Liturgy—no one will be orphaned by my death.”

During the service, when they were finishing the singing of the Our Father, the survival instinct nevertheless demanded its rights, and the elder asked that both the side doors and the Royal Doors be opened. During the verse before Communion he saw at behind the Holy Throne some sort of silhouette. This silhouette waxed more and more sharply, and then suddenly beyond the Throne the dark image of a priest dressed in vestments could be seen, bound hand at foot with chains.

Shivering with fear, the monk mixed up the words of the prayer. But after a little while he regained his composure, strengthened himself in spirit and went out to commune the faithful. It was clear to all that something strange had happened to him.

But the phantom continued standing there, rattling his chains and with fettered hands pointed to a case on the altar.

At the end of the Liturgy the hieromonk called in the warden and they opened the case, in which there turned out to be… commemoration lists. What happened is that the reposed priest had been given commemoration lists and he had set them aside for another time without reading them. Now the elder understood the reason for the vision and began serving daily Pannikhidas [services for the dead] and reading the accumulated lists of names.

On the next Sunday he served a Liturgy for the reposed for the soul of the dead priest. When they sang the verse before Communion, the silhouette of the dead priest appeared once more. But this time he was no longer tragic and terrible as he was the first time, but with a bright and happy face and no chains on his hands and feet. After the serving elder-hieromonk received Holy Communion the phantom moved, bowed to the ground before him and disappeared.

We can see by this example how prayers for the reposed bring them benefit and relieve their lot. And it is no coincidence that we are talking about this today. It is because today the Holy Church marks a special day called Meat-fare Ancestor Saturday, and gathers the Orthodox for common prayer before the Throne of God for our brothers in the faith who have departed to eternal life. And tomorrow the Holy Church remembers the terrible Second Coming of the Lord and the end of the world.

Rousing its members to be prepared for the Last Judgment, the Holy Church asks us to pray to the Righteous Judge for our reposed relatives, that they may be forgiven all their sins, and may the path from the dark underworld be cleared for them to the bright habitations of the Heavenly Father.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us offer up prayers to Christ God, and cry out with our whole hearts: With the saints give rest, O Christ to the souls of Thy servants, where there is neither sickness nor sorrow, nor sighing, but life everlasting. Amen.

Archimdrite Kirill (Pavlov)
Translation by Nun Cornelia (Rees)

Pravoslavie.ru


 

ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE HUMAN SOUL

    

Not a single question has so troubled the human mind throughout the entire existence of man as the question of the immortality of the soul, life beyond the grave. Before we begin to unpack this subject, we must say that even for the present time it is the most urgent question, the difficulty of which the greatest philosophers and thinkers recognize. But we shall be guided not only by our own reason, but mainly by Holy Scripture.

I know that having chosen this question as the subject of today’s talk with you, I will run up against prejudices and various teachings of the present time and will have to swin against the stream of modern philosophers. From beginning of Christianity’s existance, not a single era has been less filled with the awareness of eternity as the current one. The thoughts of modern generations surrounding us are focused on the present hour, on the realm of the visible world. The question that will serve as the subject of today’s talk does not at first glance seem like anything real or relative. This view troubles me a little, my efforts feel pointless, my theological and philosophical knowledge seem inadequate, and I’m as if ready to step down from this lofty Church cathedra in mute silence, but nonetheless without loss of energy. The thoughts of modern generations, as I have already said, are directed at the present hour, to the realm of the visible world. But Christianity is not a religion of epochs or hours; it is unchanging in its dogmatic and moral truths. The Christian religion concerns human souls, and not the tastes of the times, different persons or schools, trends and tendencies. Christianity was founded upon a strong foundation that is unshakeable, and it does not seek support in the reigning thoughts of the present day. It seeks and finds support in the sufferings and constant strivings of mankind.

The future life has been rejected by many and throughout all times, and it is being rejected in our own time. Some approach the coffin of a dead man only in order to take his body as something no longer needed, even hazardous, and bury it in the graveyard. Not a single prayer leaves their lips, not a single divine word illumines their sadness; and what are prayers and divine words to them when they don’t believe in God and life beyond the grave. Others—believers—see off the dead in hope of meeting again in life beyond the grave. Some say to themselves: Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die (1 Cor. 15:32), and if they sometimes did accept that there is a future life, then they did so out of practical materialism. Others work out their salvation in fear and trembling. Some insist that with death, everything ends for a person. According to their opinion there is no soul in man, and what we call the soul, in their words, dies along with the body. This is said only by those who, along with the soul, reject the existence of God also. The main characteristic of such people is carelessness—they live without a thought for anything, they are not interested in anything from the realm of the higher and spiritual; they live for the most part lawlessly, striving for only one thing: how to live better, more comfortably, and have more fun; to live as long as life satisfies them, even though it’s filled with all manner of lies, unrighteousness, wickedness and deceit. That is why the existence of God and the soul is for them but an unpleasantry that hinders their broad life from flowing as it flows—and that is why they reject God and the soul. They recognize that lawlessness must be answered for, and so they placate themselves and say that there is no God and no such thing as as an immortal soul. Their view of God and the soul flatters their sinful and corrupt nature, it gives them the daring to eat, drink, and be merry, for according to their opinion tomorrow they will die anyway, and there is no life over there beyond the grave, no soul, and no account to anyone for their deeds.

But let them talk and insist on this. We know that there is a soul and that it is immortal. This is confirmed to us by Holy Scripture. In the book of Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament it says, Man goeth to his long home (that is, after bodily death)… Then shall the dust (that is, the body) return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it (Eccl. 12:5, 7). The same is written in the book of the Wisdom of Solomon: But the righteous live for ever, and their reward is with the Lord; the Most High takes care of them (Wis. 5:15).

All the Old Testament righteous ones also believed in the immortality of the human soul (and it follows that they also believed in life after death). But the immortality of the human soul is especially clearly felt in the New Testament There it is written plainly: And fear ye not them that kill the body, and are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him that can destroy both soul and body in hell (Matt. 10:28); God is not a God of the dead but of the living (Matt. 22:32). Those Christians who died and attained the resurrection of the death, Neither can they die any more: for they are equal to the angels, and are the children of God, being the children of the resurrection (Lk. 20:35–36). This is why our Lord Jesus Christ many times repeated and said to His disciples and followers, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal (Matt. 6:19–20). Or read the twenty-fifth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew about the ten virgins—about the five wise and the five foolish virgins, how He warns His followers to store up oil along with their burning lamps, so that the lamps would not go out and the Bridegroom would not come to them unawares. Here is revealed the moment of the Last Judgment. If there were no life beyond the grave, or what is the same, if the human soul were not immortal, then why would Christ the Savior have warned His followers about the coming Judgment?

Besides the words of Holy Scripture of the Old and New Testaments, we are also convinced of the immortality of the human soul by the meetings between the souls of the dead with living people. These meetings always happened throughout the times of the Old and New Testaments. We can be convinced of this by the lives of Moses, King Saul, Prophet Samuel, and others. But we won’t cite examples here from the Old Testament. We will take for example the relatively recent past. Two hundred years ago, Russia boasted its famous scholar, Mikhail Vasilievich Lomonosov. While sailing (from Holland) to Russia on a ship, he had the following dream. He could see before him the boundless Arctic Sea, on which he often travelled in his childhood, and on the sea he noticed a boat with his father the fisherman seated in it. A fierce storm broke out, and the waves of the sea were about to swallow his beloved father. Lomonosov wanted to rush toward his father to help him, but his hands went numb. The boat was dashed against the rocks near an island and was shattered to pieces. Lomonosov was presented with a terrifying scene. His father was struggling with the giant waves of the cruel sea. He was immersed in the water for a minute and then rose to the surface and shouted, “Mikhailo!” but soon again was immersed in the water and disappeared from sight. A few minutes later he was thrown onto the shore. Lomonosov immediate woke up. The dream that he just had shook him terribly, and he decided in his soul that his father really had drowned in the sea, and having been thrown to the shore by the waves, was lying there, unburied.

When he arrived in Petersburg, with great difficulty he found some men from his native region and asked about his father’s fate. They told him that at in early spring his father had set out to sea with his comrades, but four months had passed and there was no word of them. Disquieted in soul, Lomonosov wanted to go himself to the island he had seen in his dream and which he knew from childhood, but he was not released from Petersburg. Then he asked the local fishermen to go to that island, and if they should find his father, to bury him. And truly, the fishermen found the body of Lomonosov’s father in the place he had directed them to, and they buried him. Isn’t it clear from this that the soul of the father had appeared to his own son in a dream to tell him about his pre-death suffering and after-death pressures due to the fact that he remained unburied and without prayers? This is what the famous Mikhail Vasilievich Lomonosov himself believed.

The souls of the dead appear not only in dreams, but also plainly. The immortality of the human soul appears here more precisely and is revealed even more clearly. Here a person sees the dead with his own eyes as the living, and because he knew the reposed one well before his death, he cans say unmistakably that he sees precisely that friend or relative.

The aims of the souls of the dead’s appearance to the living can vary. Very often they appear in order to improve in one way or another their condition in the afterlife. For, as all we Orthodox Christians know, the prayers of the living, especially the prayers of the Church, bring great benefit to the souls of the dead—they relieve their onerous lot if they are suffering torments in the afterlife for their sinful earthly life. But sometimes the souls of the dead come by God’s will to earth for the benefit of one or another relative, wishing to provide him some spiritual benefit. Most often they appear to those relatives who have begun to live a bad life—godless or dissipated. In this case, one way or another they help their relative to correct himself, to step once again upon the path of truth. Or they may appear in order to do some good for their close relative that they didn’t manage to do before their death. Thus, the soul without a body appears for a brief time as if to continue the work he began in his life in the body.

Sometimes the souls of the dead appear to relatives simply out of the feeling of kinship, as if pining for them. Obviously, after its departure from the body the soul doesn’t lose for a certain time the connection it had with them while in the body, and at God’s will, they somehow show that connection. Moreover, the dead not rarely bring by their appearance some mundane profit, clear up one or another perplexity that they had not done during their earthly life, or show them where they should receive some profit for themselves.

After close family, the closest person is always a friend or benefactor. People have a sincere attachment and gratitude to friends and benefactors. A person’s soul, which never dies, is immortal, after its departure from the body also keeps these feelings and not rarely appears from the world beyond the grave to its friends and benefactors in order to witness its friendship or gratitude to them.

If time allowed I could tell you about many different cases of the souls of the dead appearing to living people. From these appearances, along with the testimony of God’s word, it is clear that a person’s soul does not die after its departure from the body, but lives and will live eternally—in other words, the human soul is immortal. And if the soul is immortal, then whoever has faith in its immortality should be prepared for this; he should arrange his life on earth so that the soul would be prepared for its future life. Earthly life can last only a few decades and is only the beginning of a person’s life—the main, real life will come afterwards and lasts not some decades, but a countless number of years, eternally. This is what every Christian must think about. Each of us must have faith that death is not the end, but only the beginning of life, and therefore we must prepare in advance, in a timely manner for it. It can come at any time. The curtain may close today or tomorrow, and each will go to the place of no return. There will be the reward for all that was done during this brief earthly life.

Brothers! Believe in life beyond the grave, believe in the immortality of the human soul, believe that after death you will live eternally. If you do not believe in this, then you do not believe that the Lord Christ resurrected, and then your faith is in vain. Beware of false teachings and false teachers, who preach and see in death total destruction of the human soul. This is particularly noticeable in our age. But let this age be troubled, trying in the name of reason to base its belief on eternal life; let it find its defense for its deeds in apologists more eloquent than Russo or thinkers more profound and penetrating than Plato. We Christians can await their results without fear. I will remind you only of the final discourse of the greatest of the ancient philosophers with his disciples in the prison in Athens. Socrates was dying, poison was coursing through the great sage’s veins, and his members were growing cold. His disciples, leaning toward him, asked him with worried gaze what is being presented to him after this world; and he, a perspicacious genius, a lofty and sincere soul, had tried to lift the curtain; he tried to show that the human soul is immortal. And with his failing voice he reminded them of all the proof of this great truth! But to what did his efforts lead? Did he reveal this desired truth? Alas! The great genius and philosopher could only say, “Perhaps…” He imagined the future as dark, unclear; and on the eve of his trial words broke from his lips that were filled with melancholy: “If destruction is my lot, I would just the same prefer life, for I have experienced that the best day of my life is not worth one night of tranquil sleep.” This is how the efforts of one of the greatest philosophers and geniuses ended.

But modern philosophy, just like ancient philosophy, has taken a false path. It thought to base belief in the immortality of the human soul through its own efforts. It is sufficient to recall the deaths of such as Roland, Valase, Leba, Condorcet,1 and others. There was no voice of eternity to be heard there.

Philosophy will never be able to base faith in eternal life. And the human soul cannot be satisfied with a single philosophical theory. Needed is a voice from heaven that would proclaim eternal life; and there was this Voice, and we came to believe in Him with our whole soul and whole heart. This Voice encouraged us and all sanely-thinking mankind. But is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gospel (2 Tim. 1:10). Beginning with Jesus Christ, sanely-thinking mankind confesses its faith in life eternal. Beginning with Him, this faith has possessed the hearts of millions of people throughout all ages with such miraculous power, that they went to torments as to a feast—however, not in order to be rid of life like a Hindu who kills himself, and not in order to taste the delights of a sensual paradise, like the followers of Mohamed, but in order to enter into the life of truth, sanctity, and love. We, faithful to Christ God, shall together with the longsuffering Job say, For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me (Job 19:25–27).

In reading through the New Testament of our Lord Jesus Christ I found the words, “eternal life” forty times in it. And I can confirm beyond any doubt that the Savior placed the goal of eternal life in His teaching. Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness (Matt. 6:33), He said. But how could we seek the Kingdom of God if there were no life beyond the grave? The Kingdom of God and His righteousness begins here, within us; but it will be full and eternal after death, for our abode is in the heavens (Phillip. 3:20), but here, on earth we are strangers. This life is a life of waiting, we are temporary travelers seeking for the quiet eternal harbor of heaven. I do not understand the state of the soul of those people who complete their earthly path with all its difficulties without God and His help, without faith and hope. In the most difficult moments of life, in the worst sufferings, there was and is in my heart a triumphant hope, which strengthens me on this thorny path. I consider thus: I do not belong totally to the earth, my earthly life is temporary, but I can suffer, for I know that my sufferings have an aim, which eternity explains to me. I also know that whom God has mercy upon, him does he teach. With this conviction I can suffer. Suffer also, you my brothers, in the hope that your suffering will lead you to the goal. Sew after you and around you your living hope, disperse this hope in the nights of doubt, preach the future life, without which this earthly life would be most senseless, unnecessary, and aimless. Let us believe that now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the firstfruits of them that slept (1 Cor. 15:20). Amen.

Delivered in the Kineshma Metropolia, February 8, 1910.

St. Mardarije (Uskoković)
Translation by OrthoChristian.com

Pravoslavie.ru


 Monsieur Macron


 


Monsieur Macron


Verdammter Teufel


Voues etes marié avec un garçon


Du verdammter Frosch


Befürwortung eines Atomkriegs


Ihr seid Freunde des Teufels


Wer zerstört die Welt


Wenn Sie ballistische Raketen abfeuern


Gegen Moskau


Bald wirst du Paris zerstört sehen


Du bösartiges Tier


Maricon


Sie sind der Abschaum des Judentums


Mit Zelensky als Reisebegleiter


Dies ist die bittere Stunde


Vom Untergang Europas


Beleidige Mutter Russland nicht


Aus der Ukraine Hände weg


 


Samstag, 18. Februar 2023

 МЕСЬЕ МАКРОН


 


Месье Макрон


гребаный дьявол


Voues etes marié avec un garçon


Ты кровавая лягушка


Пропаганда ядерной войны


Вы друзья с дьяволом


Кто разрушает мир


Если вы стреляете баллистическими ракетами


Против Москвы


Скоро ты увидишь разрушенный Париж.


Вы злобное животное


Марикон


Вы отбросы еврейства


С Зеленским в качестве попутчика


Это горький час


Падения Европы


Не оскорбляй матушку Россию


От Украины руки прочь


 


суббота, 18 февраля 2023 г.

 EL SEÑOR MACRON


 


señor macron


maldito diablo


Voues etes marié con un garçon


maldita rana


Abogar por la guerra nuclear


Eres amigo del diablo


Quien destruye el mundo


Si disparas misiles balísticos


contra moscú


Pronto verás París destruido


Tu animal vicioso


Maricón


Eres la escoria de la juderia


Con Zelensky como compañero de viaje


Esta es la hora amarga


De la caída de Europa


No insultes a la Madre Rusia


Desde Ucrania manos fuera


 


sábado, 18 de febrero de 2023

MACRON BLOODY FROG CANTABA LA RANA DEBAJO DEL AGUA CUCÚ UNA CANCIÓN DE DESTRUCCIÓN NUCLEAR, MACRON HORMIGA ATÓMICA

 

MONSIEUR MACRON

 

Monsieur Macron

Fucking devil

Voues etes marié avec un garçon

You bloody frog

Advocating nuclear war

You are Friends wth the devil

Who destroys the world

If you shoot ballistic missiles

Against Moscow

Soon you ´ll see Paris destroyed

You vitious animal

Maricon

You are the scum of the Jewry

With Zelensky as travelling companion

This is the bitter hour

Of Europe´s downfall

Don’t insult Mother Russia

From Ukraine hands off

 

Saturday, 18 February 2023

2023-02-16

 

EVARISTO CASARIEGO Y EL LENGUAJE DE LA MAR

 

En Cudillero donde vivo hay dos voces para designar a los marineros y a los de tierra adentro. Unos son pixuetos y los de la aldea caizos. Para él los marinos son de mejor índole que los labriegos.

Esa misma distintiva se da en don José Pereda al referirse a los “pejines” y a los callealteros.

No quisiera meterme en un tremedal en el cual soy lego pues de lenguaje marino aquí el que sabe es Sacha Marqués con toda la cuadrilla de amuravelos con su sermón a vera de dársena el día de San Pedro. Así he sentido una admiración tremenda por la solercia y propiedad de lenguaje que maneja Evaristo Casariego.

Sus libros son perlas del buen decir y del entusiasta conocimiento. Sabe describir como ningún otro incluso superando a Galdós un combate naval en “Con su vida hicieron fuego” cuando la fragata “Mar Céltico” que comandaba el teniente don Francisco Menéndez (Quico) se enfrenta a un transporte moscovita el “Nikolaev” al grito de a quema maquinas y proa a él.

Se rindieron los ruskis, el capitán se pegó un tiro por negarse a arriar pabellón, pero toda la tripulación quedó a salvo al entregarse todos prisioneros.

 A Quico le dieron por la gesta la laureada de San Fernando.

 En esta novela se alude a nordesteadas, al viento borguil, noche celada, rezón, soltar amarras, espaldillas, tolete, chiscón, estaca, aduja, viento de bolina, mar bella. Tomar la barra y lo contrario soltar amarras.

Casariego es admirable no sólo por sus facultades descriptivas también por las narrativas.

No se puede dejar de la mano a esta hermosa novela que es un canto a Asturias y a sus esforzados hijos depositarios de un oficio en el cual trajinaron durante siglos. Estos marineros cantabros enseñaron a navegar a media Europa.

Dice el novelista luarqués al cual lo nacieron por lo visto en Tineo que él prefería el trato de los hombres de la mar a los callealteros por su lealtad y por su religiosidad. Si no sabes rezar entra en la mar.

A este respecto uno de los capítulos más impresionantes es el que dedica al rescate de un grupo de derechistas que huyendo de sus perseguidores se refugiaron en la cueva de Albelda donde sólo podía acercarse el ser humano con marea baja.

Pues bien, zarpa con una motora y remando a proeles se llega hasta ellos.

Subieron y uno de los del grupo se acordó del cristo de los marineros que preside señero el paisaje de Luarca en una ermita colgando sobre el acantilado.

¿Qué hacemos con el cristo? Nos lo llevaron. Treparon  la escarpada senda, desclavaron la imagen del retablo, un cristo con faldellín y a rastras lo bajaron.

 Lo remolcaron a la sirga y así llegaron a otro puerto ocupado por los nacionales, el de Tolones. Este catolicismo a machamartillo fruto de una tradición secular sale a relucir, pero sin beaterías.

“En Febrera los católicos se clasifican en tres grupos: Los que se comen los santos y huelen a cirio e incienso, los que van a misa por compromiso y por último están los descreídos, los ateos” se habla en cambio sin remilgos de un cierto anticlericalismo que el autor debió de padecer dado su carlismo liberal.

 El párroco era un sacerdote sin tacha, pero enseñaba el catecismo a fuerza de sopapos. Sin embargo, si había un enfermo o un pobre en la parroquia acudía a visitarlo y le metía unos duros debajo de la almohada. En las rectorales los días de romería se comía y se bebía a lo grande. A los postres el café con gotes y un buen cigarro puro.

El cura de Canero cuenta una historia que le había ocurrido con un feligrés un carlista vasco que apenas hablaba castellano y trabajaba de carpintero de ribera.

Tenía una bicicleta y muchos días se le veía pedaleando por las aldeas del concejo. Iba a mozas.

 Un día se le presentó una llorando. El vizcaíno la había dejado embarazada y no se quería casar pero al poco tiempo se presentaron más. Hubo hasta cinco a las que había hecho madres. Ellas sucumbieron a sus encantos galantes.

El cura lo llamó para echarle un rapapolvo.

─Pero hombre, Iñaqui, ¿Cómo haces eso? ¿Qué tienes tú que las vuelve locas?

Y él dijo:

─Bisicleta, padre, bisicleta de Eibar

Humor típicamente astur. Coña marinera. Habría que leer a Casariego en estos momentos

 

15 de febrero 2023

EL CURA ROJO ERA AMIGO Y COMPAÑERO MÍO

 

Enrique CASTRO BERMUDEZ RIP ERA EN MI AMIGO EN AQUELLOS TIEMPOS DE MI ADOLESCENCIA EN COMILLAS

 

Acaba de fallecer a los 80 de un cáncer por el tabaco el cura rojo de Entrevías, era aquel amigo y valedor en el seminario de Comillas cuando mis padres que eran pobres no podían pagar la mesada ni comprarme otra sotana pues había crecido y la que vestía me quedaba corta.

Todos se reían de mí, yo era aquel adolescente muy bueno en latines pero un cero patatero en matemáticas y en física y química que nos daba el padre Rábago, aquel jesuita santanderino que ofició como traductor en el encuentro de Franco con Eisenhower.

 El prefecto de los retóricos un vasco con muy mala leche un tal Eguillor me cogió ojeriza desde el principio, me mandó al pelotón de los torpes, no despreciaba ocasión para humillarme en público. Me dijo una frase que aun me está hiriendo y contra la cual me he rebelado toda mi vida:

──Tú no vales para Comillas, Careces de nivel, nunca serás nada.

Se me cayeron los palos del sombrajo y yo que quería ser obispo…

Sin embargo, Enrique Castro que era de un curso superior vino a pedirme disculpas y consolarme al verme llorar por los pasillos.

Siempre le estaré agradecido al cura rojo, el amigo de los pobres y marginados, el contestario el que se las tuvo tiesas con el nefasto cardenal Rouco. y en su óbito me acuerdo del titulo de una novela de Cebron los santos van al infierno.

 Seguramente que a estas horas el padre Enrique el que se quitó la sotana y daba rosquillas y vino en la eucaristía está ahora gozando de la gloria del Padre.

Formando parte del cupo de los elegidos del cupo de los justos de Israel.

El verano de 1959 fue traumático en mi vida. Yo despuntaba en el seminario de Segovia como latinista y era un adolescente piadoso.

El rector don Julián García Hernando de feliz memoria le dijo a mi padre que yo tenía madera de obispo que me mandaran a Comillas el seminario de elite. Eché la instancia y fui aceptado.

Le llevé la carta a mi padre que entonces estaba en el campamento de Robledo instruyendo a los de la IPS y a los quintos y me dijo: Comillas es más caro que el seminario de Segovia, no tenemos beca, pero haremos un sacrificio.

Vino mi tía Dominica del pueblo y ayudó a mi madre a preparar el ajuar. Todas mis prendas habían de llevar bordado un número, recuerdo ese número: 288 no se me olvidará nunca.

Lleno de ilusión la noche del uno de octubre tomamos el Correo de Santander tren nocturno que llegaría al amanecer a Torrelavega, yo con mi cofre, el rosario en la chaqueta, el pelo al cero y toda una vida por delante, quería ser obispo.

 En la estación de Medina del Campo subieron todos los aspirantes de Zamora, Ávila, Palencia y Valladolid. Entre los de Valladolid se encontraba Enrique.

Había venido a despedirle su padre un coronel de Aviación que mandaba la base de Villanubla y unas hermanas muy guapas.

Enrique amable dicharachero y hasta diríase que guapo con una gafas sin montura y hablando un poco pijo causaba impresión por su afabilidad y simpatía.

Ya se veía que era un líder y yo estaba un poco atemorizado porque mi padre no era más que un pobre sargento de artillería y entre los vascos que se agregaron en Venta de Baños se encontraban hijos de poderosos industriales y empresarios vizcaínos. Temí no estar altura.

Enrique Castro nos divertía contándonos las aventuras de aquel verano. Recuerdo los nombres de José Manuel Roque de Miguel y un tal Vaquerizo que debió de ser el padre de ese famoso que anda en lenguas por las redes sociales un si es no es de los que pierden aceite.

 Aquel largo viaje en el correo de Santander no lo olvidaré jamás.

Por primera vez vi el mar y olí el perfume de la hierba y de los pastizales cántabros tan diferentes de los barbechos castellanos.

En Torrelavega nos aguardaban dos maestrillos gallegos. Uno era el padre Cavada que nos ayudó a cargar nuestros baúles en una camioneta, yo aferrado a mi baúl y aferrado al rosario que llevaba en el bolso de mi chaqueta de pana. Tuve una expresión mayestática al subir la Cardosa la cuesta que bordea el seminario entre rosales y tamarindos. Fue una sensación mágica.

Allí me encontré a un vasco que se llamaba a Aramburo me enseñó todas las galerías y dependencias del enorme caserón.

Fuimos a saludar al padre Mayor que era el encargado de la clase de Griego para los Retóricos, me produjo una sensación de humildad aquel sabio helenista que conocía todos los intríngulis de la lengua de Homero y que el día de San Juan Crisóstomo escogía a uno de sus alumnos más destacados para pronunciar una de las filípicas de Desmóstenos desde el pupito a la hora del desayuno.  Aramburu creo que fue uno de los dos de mi curso que llegó a cantar misa, el otro fue Antonio Pelayo famoso periodista del YA y corresponsal de la Cope en el Vaticano.

 Sin embargo, he de confesar que fuimos los últimos de Filipinas. Con nosotros empezó la desbandada. Los seminarios vacíos que fue el tema de mi libro.

El Concilio vació los seminarios y todos colgaron la sotana. Aquel año en Comillas me marcó, acentuó mi rebeldía contra ciertas malas praxis del nacional catolicismo, la obsesión sexual que pudo convertirse en verdadera tortura, el “streaming” promocionar a los que valen y a los hijos de los ricos. Sobre todo a los vascos.

 Ahora entiendo la frase de por qué ETA nació en un seminario.

La condena de Eguillor sobre mis capacidades con aquella crueldad din miramientos en los que son verdaderos artífices los jesuitas me hizo contestario. Comillas fue para mí la forja de un rebelde.

Lo cual no es óbice que sintiera admiración y recuerde con cariño a otros jesuitas como el padre Martino, el padre Heras el maestrillo que me venia a avisar a las tres de la madrugada para que me levantara al baño. Yo padecía enuresis, y me meaba en la cama, se dispararon mis complejos de inferioridad.

En el pelotón de los torpes estaba Juan Bedoya que también llegó lejos en el periodismo.

Fue corresponsal religioso del país y por lo que a mí respecta que se chinche Eguillor alcancé el summum del periodismo: las corresponsalías de Washington y Londres.

 Nos juntábamos a leer la Colmena de Cela frente al mar sentados en un desmonte de Peña Castillo y por las tardes cantábamos la Salve en el Stella Maris.

A Enrique de Castro Bermúdez no volví a verlo hasta los años 90, estaba muy cambiado, no era aquel adolescente guaperas y dicharachero de Comillas sino un señor con la mirada doliente, sus ojos habían penetrado en la realidad española, yo le dije que recordaba con cariño aquellas misas en latín y aquellas salves en el Stella Maris, hizo un mohín, pero inmerso en su caridad no quiso reprobar mi actitud algo carca en dicho instante.

Torció el gesto y se despidió. Pienso que la iglesia es multifaria y el rostro de Cristo tiene muchos ángulos de visión innumerables facetas.

Los escolásticos los denominan “suum cuique” y yo estoy por una iglesia donde la liturgia y la tradición son el baluarte.

Por eso sigo entusiasmado a los rusos que conservan eso que nosotros hemos perdido la fe prístina sin aditamentos. Estoy en las antípodas de los postulados de Enrique pero los dos vamos a lo mismo.

Fuimos amigos, La secularización tiene sus peligros, pero soy amigo de los musulmanes repruebo la crueldad católica ya fustigada por Francisco de Quevedo y trato de hacerme ingenuo como un niño.

Aquel niño que fui en Comillas maltratado y lanzado a las tinieblas exteriores por los Eguillores de turno, los intolerantes, los montanos que quieren una iglesia a su medida solo para santitos, no la iglesia no puede convertirse en un problema de bragueta.

Esa es gasolina con la cual quieren incendiar a la iglesia sus enemigos. Es caridad, es quietud, es oposición a los poderes facticos.

Enrique de Castro Bermúdez hizo de su vida la regla de oro de San Agustín; ama et fac quod vis, ama y haz lo que te pete. Por eso fue un gran cura un cura de mi generación la del 68.

No es verdad, Cebron, los santos ya no van al infierno, Van al cielo de cabeza,

Descanse en paz, Dios lo tenga en su reino.

 

15 febrero 2023