El Nazareno de San Pablo

Devoción caraqueña

En el siglo XVII llegó a la Caracas colonial una talla de Sevilla y de pino de Flandes, esculpida por Felipe Ribas (no es del todo seguro). Es una imagen de un Jesús Nazareno, la cual fue consagrada en la Iglesia de San Pablo el Ermitaño construida en 1666, por lo que desde entonces se le ha llamado “El Nazareno de San Pablo”. En 1880 se trasladó la imagen a la Basílica de Santa Teresa, y desde ese entonces se encuentra allí para servir de inspiración en todas las peticiones de los caraqueños (y muchísimos venezolanos). En mi caso, no dejo de visitar esta imagen, cada vez que voy por esa zona de la ciudad.

La devoción a esta imagen se inició hace aproximadamente un siglo, en un momento de desesperación por la fiebre española (sino me equivoco), hecho que cuenta bellamente el poeta Andrés Eloy Blanco en “El limonero del Señor” que acá transcribimos:

En la esquina de Miracielos

agoniza la tradición.

¿Qué mano avara cortaría

el limonero del Señor...?

Miracielos; casuchas nuevas,

con descrédito del color;

antaño hubiera allí una tapia

y una arboleda y un portón.

Calle de piedra; el reflejo

encalambrado de un farol;

hacia la sombra, el aguafuerte

abocetada de un balcón,

a cuya vera se bajara,

para hacer guiños al amor,

el embozo de Guzmán Blanco

En algún lance de ocasión.

En el corral está sembrado,

junto al muro, junto al portón,

y por encima de la tapia

hacia la calle descolgó

un gajo verde y amarillo

el limonero del Señor.

Cuentan que en pascua lo sembrara,

el año quince, un español,

y cada dueño de la siembra

de sus racimos exprimió

la limonada con azúcar

Para el día de San Simón.

Por la esquina de Miracielos,

en sus Miércoles de dolor,

el Nazareno de San Pablo

Pasaba siempre en procesión.

Y llegó el año de la peste;

moría el pueblo bajo el sol;

con su cortejo de enlutados

pasaba al trote algún doctor

y en un hartazgo dilataba

su puerta «Los Hijos de Dios».

La Terapéutica era inútil;

andaba el Viático al vapor

Y por exceso de trabajo

se abreviaba la absolución.

Y pasó el Domingo de Ramos

y fue el Miércoles del Dolor

cuando, apestada y sollozante,

la muchedumbre en oración,

desde el claustro de San Felipe

hasta San Pablo, se agolpó.

Un aguacero de plegarias

asordó la Puerta Mayor

y el Nazareno de San Pablo

salió otra vez en procesión.

En el azul del empedrado

regaba flores el fervor;

banderolas en las paredes,

candilejas en el balcón,

el canelón y el miriña que

el garrasí y el quitasol;

un predominio de morado

de incienso y de genuflexión.

—¡Oh, Señor, Dios de los Ejércitos. La peste aléjanos, Señor...!

En la esquina de Miracielos

hubo una breve oscilación;

los portadores de las andas

se detuvieron; Monseñorel Arzobispo, alzó los ojos

hacia la Cruz; la Cruz de Dios,

al pasar bajo el limonero,

entre sus gajos se enredó.

Sobre la frente del Mesías

hubo un rebote de verdor

y entre sus rizos tembló el oro

amarillo de la sazón.

De lo profundo del cortejo

partió la flecha de una voz:

—¡Milagro...! ¡Es bálsamo, cristianos, el limonero del Señor...!

Y veinte manos arrancaban

la cosecha de curaciónque en la esquina de Miracielos

de los cielos enviaba Dios.

Y se curaron los pestosos

bebiendo el ácido licor

con agua clara de Catuche,

entre oración y oración.

Miracielos: casuchas nuevas;

la tapia desapareció.

¿Qué mano avara cortaría el limonero del Señor...?

¿Golpe de sordo mercachifleo competencia de Doctor

o despecho de boticariou ornamento de la población...?

El Nazareno de San Pablo

tuvo una casa y la perdió

y tuvo un patio y una tapia

y un limonero y un portón.

¡Malhaya el golpe que cortara

el limonero del Señor...!

¡Mal haya el sino de esa manoque desgajó la tradición...!

Quizá en su tumba un limonero

floreció un día de Pasión

y una nueva nevada de azahares

sobre la cruz desmigajó,

como lo hiciera aquella tarde

sobre la Cruz en procesión,

en la esquina de Miracielos,

¡el limonero del Señor...!.

Nota: algo sale mal con el interlineado que no ha aprendido, pero cada vez que leo este poema me quedo sin habla.

Acá les dejo una serie de fotos que conseguí en youtube (de urbana88) sobre los alrededores de la basílica Santa Teresa en un miércoles santo. Todo es expresión de la religiosidad popular, la gente "pagando promesas" vistiéndose de "nazareno", y bueno...mucho de mercaderes del templo, y como música de fondo esa salsa que se llama precisamente "El Nazareno" y que ahora no recuerdo cual grupo la canta (disculpen, no soy salsero).

Una de mis películas religiosas favoritas: "Karol"

En estos días, que pasan tantas películas religiosas, yo he vuelto a ver la que tanto me gusta: Karol, el hombre que se convirtió en Papa. Sin duda que es lacrimosa, lloran hasta más no poder; pero el guión es bellísimo y tiene unas escenas que te erizan la piel.

Aunque también me gustó mucho Sant'Antonio di Padova (2002), y claro: La Pasíón. Lástima que la de San Antonio no la consigo en ninguna parte ni la vuelven a pasar en donde la ví, que creo que fue Film & art.

De la película Karol, me fascina la parte en que se describe el gran dilema ¿Dónde está Dios en medio del horror generado por la invasión nazi a Polonia, el cual asesina a los judíos y esclaviza a los eslavos?. Acá se las dejo:

Parte 1


Otra escena bellísima es la conversion del comunista (Adan) que lo espía, al final de este video en el minuto 9:

Parte 4


Al final cuando sale electo, y sale el humo blanco se escuchan sus palabras hermosísimas con este poema…

El amor me lo ha explicado todo,
El amor me lo ha resuelto todo,
Por eso admiro el amor
Donde quiera que se encuentre.

Si el amor es tan grande como sencillo,
Si el anhelo más simple se puede encontrar en la nostalgia,
Entonces puedo entender porque Dios
quiere ser recibido por gente sencilla,
por esos cuyos corazones son puros
y no encuentran palabras para expresar su amor.

Dios ha venido hasta aquí
y se ha parado a poca distancia de la nada,
muy cerca de nuestros ojos.

Quizá la vida es una ola de sorpresas,
Una ola más alta que la muerte,
No tengáis miedo jamás.

Parte 5

Separación Iglesia-Estado no es lo mismo que total secularización

Escuchando las reflexiones del director de ACIPRENSA para hoy (mientras aprendo a pegar acá el audio, les dejo el link aquí, deben seleccionar en la ventana de la derecha que dice: “católico al día” la que dice “punto de vista”; y les recomiendo el resto de los audios).

Una cosa es la separación entre la Iglesia y el Estado y otra; la relegación exclusiva del cristianismo a lo privado y la prohibición de su expresión pública. Como parte de la sociedad democrática y plural, la Iglesia, los cristianos (y toda religión) tiene derecho a hablar y mostrar su peculiar punto de vista. Pero más aun, la iglesia tiene mucho que decir cuando la cultura del país es mayoritariamente católica. Dije "DECIR", nunca imponer, porque que yo sepa los tiempos de imponer (para la Iglesia) quedaron muy pero muy atrás.

¡Qué buenos videos los que ha colocado Ululatus sobre los jesuitas!

Ver los videos acá y aquí los de youtube sobre los jesuitas. Yo por ahora no he aprendido a pegarlos acá, si me pueden decir cómo hacerlo mil gracias. En todo caso, estamps agradecidos Ululatus.

A ver, acá probamos pegarlo...

Hace 8 años: una herejía católica termina en una masacre

Acá les dejo el artículo de wikipedia.

The Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God was a breakaway sect from the Roman Catholic Church founded by Credonia Mwerinde and Joseph Kibweteere in Uganda. It formed in the late 1980s after Mwerinde, a brewer of banana beer, and Kibweteere, a politician, claimed that they had visions of the Virgin Mary. The five primary leaders were Joseph Kibweteere, Joseph Kasapurari, John Kamagara, Dominic Kataribabo, and Credonia Mwerinde. In early 2000, followers of the sect perished in a devastating fire, and a series of poisonings and killings, that were either a cult suicide, or an orchestrated mass murder by sect leaders after their predictions of the apocalypse failed to pass.[1] In their coverage of that event, BBC News and the New York Times referred to the Movement as a Doomsday cult.[2][3]

Beliefs
The Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God's goals were to obey the Ten Commandments and preach the word of Jesus Christ. They taught that to avoid damnation in the apocalypse, one had to strictly follow the Commandments. The emphasis on the Commandments was so strong that the group discouraged talking, for fear of breaking the Eighth Commandment, "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor," and on some days communication was only conducted in sign language. Fasts were conducted regularly, and only one meal was eaten on Fridays and Mondays. Sex was forbidden, as was soap.[4]
Movement leaders declared that the apocalypse would occur in the year 2000. The group had a strong emphasis on an apocalyptic end time, highlighted by their booklet A Timely Message from Heaven: The End of the Present Time.[5] New members were required to study it and be trained in its text, reading it as many as six times. They also taught that the Virgin Mary had a special role in the end, and that she also communicated with their leadership. They held themselves akin to Noah's Ark, a ship of righteousness in a sea of depravity.[2]

The Movement developed a hierarchy of visionaries, topped by Mwerinde. Behind them were former priests who served as theologians and explained their messages. Although the group had split from the Catholic Church, had Catholic icons placed prominently and defrocked priests and nuns in its leadership, ties to the Church were only tenuous.[2]

Background
The recent past of Uganda has been marked with political and social turmoil. The rule of Idi Amin, the AIDS pandemic, and the Ugandan Bush War wreaked havoc across the country.[6][2] People became pessimistic and fatalistic, and the established Roman Catholic Church was backsliding, enveloped in scandals and the faithful were becoming dissatisfied.[2] In this void, many post-Catholic groups formed in the late eighties as a confused and traumatized populace turned to charismatic self-declared messiahs who renounced the authority of the government and the Church.[6] An example of this phenomenon was the Christian resistance group, the Holy Spirit Movement, which fought against the government of Yoweri Museveni.[2] A former member of the sect, Paul Ikazire, would explain his motivation to join the Movement, "We joined the movement as a protest against the Catholic Church. We had good intentions. The church was backsliding, the priests were covered in scandals and the AIDS scourge was taking its toll on the faithful. The world seemed poised to end."[4]

History

Founding
The earliest origins of the movement have been traced back to Credonia Mwerinde's father Paulo Kashaku. In 1960 he claimed to have had a vision of his deceased daughter Evangelista, who told him that he would have visions of heaven. This prediction passed in 1988, when he saw Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, and Saint Joseph. His daughter Credonia also had similar visions and was involved in a Virgin Cult.[7] In 1989 Kashaku instructed her to spread the message across Uganda on the orders of the Virgin Mary. In that year she would meet Joseph Kibweteere and tell him of their communications.

Joseph Kibweteere claimed to have had a vision of the Virgin Mary in 1984. Credonia Mwerinde also had a similar vision in a cavern near Kibweteere's house in Rwashamaire, Uganda.[7] In 1989 the two met and formed the Movement for the Restoration of the Ten Commandments of God, with the mission to spread the Virgin's message about the apocalypse. The group grew rapidly and also attracted several defrocked Catholic priests and nuns who worked as theologians, rationalizing messages from the leadership. Two of the arrivals were the excommunicated priests Paul Ikazire and Dominic Kataribabo.[4]

Middle years
The sect grew in importance with the arrival of Dominic Kataribabo, a respected and popular priest with a PhD from the United States. In order to obtain more funds for the increasing number of disciples, Kibweteere sold his three other properties, car and milling machines.[7] By the late 1990s, the church had grown into a thriving community, set in pineapple and banana plantations. Members lived communally on land bought by pooling the profits from their property, which they sold when they joined the Movement. Mwerinde claimed to receive messages from the Virgin Mary through a hidden telephone system that communicated through everyday objects.[7] In western Uganda they built houses for recruitment, indoctrination and worship, and a primary school. The year 2000 was settled on as the final, compelling date for the sect's predictions of the apocalypse.

However this time was not uneventful, in 1992 the group was ordered out of Rwashamaire by village elders, and moved to Kanungu District, where Mwerinde's father offered an extensive property for their use.[7] In 1994, Paul Ikazire left the sect, taking with him approximately seventy members.[4] By 1997, according to a filing with the government, the Movement's membership was listed at nearly 5,000 people. In 1998, the Ugandan press reported that the Movement had been shut down for insanitary conditions, use of child labor, and possibly kidnapping children, but the sect was allowed to reopen by the government.[8]

As the new millennium approached preparations for the end mounted. In 1999, the state owned New Vision newspaper ran an interview with a teenage member. He said, "The world ends next year. There is no time to waste. Some of our leaders talk directly to god. Any minute from now, when the end comes, every believer who will be at an as yet undisclosed spot will be saved."[8]

Apocalypse
With the new year looming, activity by Movement members became frenzied, their leaders urged them to confess their sins in preparation for the end. Clothes and cattle were sold cheaply, past members were re-recruited, and all work in the fields ceased. January 1, 2000 passed without the advent of the apocalypse, and the Movement began to unravel. Questions were asked of Mwerinde and Kibweteere,[1] and payments to the Church decreased dramatically. Ugandan police believe that some members, who were required to sell their possessions and turn over the money to the Movement, rebelled and demanded the return of their money.[4] It is believed that events that followed were orchestrated by sect leaders in response to the crisis in the ranks.[9]
Another date was immediately predicted, March 17 was the new end of the world, a doomsday that would come "with ceremony, and finality" according to the New York Times. The Movement held a huge party at Kanungu, and roasted three bulls and drank 70 crates of soft drinks.[4] Another party was planned for the eighteenth, which officials believe sect leaders had announced in order to mislead authorities as to their plans.[10] Several days before Movement leader Dominic Kataribabo was seen buying 50 liters of sulfuric acid, which may have fueled the fire. On the seventeenth, group members arrived at their church in Kanangu to pray and sing, minutes later nearby villagers heard an explosion, and the building was gutted in an intense fire that killed all 530 in attendance, including dozens of children. The windows and doors of the building had been boarded up.[1] The five principal cult leaders, Joseph Kibweteere, Joseph Kasapurari, John Kamagara, Dominic Kataribabo, and Credonia Mwerinde, were assumed to have died in the fire.[3] The fire alerted the Ugandan authorities to what had been occurring in the Movement.
Four days after the church fire police investigated Movement properties and discovered hundreds of bodies at sites across southern Uganda.[9] 6 bodies were discovered sealed in the latrine of the Kanungu compound, as well as 153 bodies at a compound in Buhunage, 155 bodies at Dominic Kataribabo's estate at Rugazi, where they had been poisoned and stabbed, and another 81 bodies at lay leader Joseph Nymurinda's farm.[10] Forensics investigations indicated that they had been murdered weeks before the church inferno.

Aftermath
Other than the individuals that died in the fire, medical examiners determined that the majority of dead sect members had been poisoned. Early reports had suggested that they had been strangled based on the presence of twisted banana fibers around their necks. After searching all sites, the police concluded that earlier estimates of nearly a thousand dead had been exaggerated, and that the final death toll had settled at 778.[3]

After interviews and an investigation were conducted, the police ruled out a cult suicide, and instead consider it to be a mass murder conducted by Movement leadership. They believe that the failure of the doomsday prophecy led to a revolt in the ranks of the sect, and the leaders set a new date with a plan to eliminate their followers.[1] The discovery of bodies at other sites[9], the fact the church had been boarded up, the presence of incendiaries, and the possible disappearance of sect leaders all point to this theory. Additionally, witnesses said the Movement leadership had never spoken of mass suicide when preparing members for the end of the world.[1]

The Ugandan government responded with condemnation. President Yoweri Museveni has called the event a "mass murder by these priests for monetary gain." Vice president Dr. Speciosa Wandira Kazibwe said, "These were callously, well-orchestrated mass murders perpetrated by a network of diabolic, malevolent criminals masquerading as religious people."[1] Although it was initially assumed that the five leaders died in the fire, police now believe that Joseph Kibweteere and Credonia Mwerinde may still be alive, and have issued an international warrant for their arrest.[3]

References
^ a b c d e f Uganda Survivor Tells of Questions When World Didn't End Ian Fisher New York Times April 3, 2000
^ a b c d e f Quiet cult's doomsday deaths BBC News March 29, 2000
^ a b c d Cult in Uganda Poisoned Many, Police Say New York Times July 28, 2000
^ a b c d e f Uganda Cult's Mystique Finally Turned Deadly Ian Fisher New York Times April 2, 2000
^ Fateful Meeting Led to Founding of Cult in Uganda Henri E. Cauvin New York Times March 27, 2000
^ a b Cults: Why East Africa? BBC News March 20, 2000
^ a b c d e The preacher and the prostitute BBC News March 29, 2000
^ a b A party, prayers, then mass suicide Anna Borzello The Guardian March 20, 2000
^ a b c Evidence Indicates Uganda Cult Held an Eerie Prelude to Fire Henri E. Cauvin New York Times March 26, 2000
^ a b Mass graves found in sect house Anna Borzello The Guardian March 25, 2000

Crítica a la pacatería

No quisiera criticar…por ser la crítica un tanto odiosa, aunque Cristo pasó la vida criticando la espiritualidad de su tiempo (y proponiendo algo nuevo); ¡¿que mayor crítica que morir en cruz?!. Pero critico, y critico hoy la exagerada o quisquillosa visión de algunos sobre la piedad religiosa en la Semana Santa; que se matan por los detalles y que ven en todo un pecado, y que a su vez critican las formas no ortodoxas de algunos al vivirla. Les digo: ¡Vean la caridad y no las maneras!.

Y me refiero en especial a esos que se horrorizan porque alguien se vaya de vacaciones en Semana Santa, pues yo respondo a esto: hay casos de casos. Yo no salgo, pero no critico al que lo hace. ¿Qué se yo cómo vive su espiritualidad?, puede que sea hasta más sincero que algunos que se quedan en los templos, no sé; y por no saber no lo critico.

Medios y evangelización: el caso del cardenal Dionigi Tettamanzi

Arzobispo italiano responde preguntas por Internet

Manuel Urrutia -El cardenal Dionigi Tettamanzi, arzobispo de Milán, responde cada semana a las preguntas de los fieles a través de un vídeo en la página de YouTube, con un éxito inesperado.

El primer vídeo, 'colgado' hace cuatro semanas en la popular página web que permite a los usuarios compartir gratuitamente vídeos digitales a través de internet, fue visto 65.000 veces.

Entre las preguntas más formuladas figuran temas como el bautizo y la cuaresma. "¿Por qué los bautizados son considerados hijos de Dios?; ¿No somos todos hijos de Dios?" o "¿El bautizo existía desde antes de la época de Jesús?", son algunas de las preguntas de los fieles..

El prelado ha recibido unas 400 preguntas destacando esta iniciativa ha sido recibida "favorablemente" por la jerarquía de la Iglesia.

Los vídeos duran unos diez minutos y aparecen todos los viernes.

Ver videos acá.