Incontro di Benedetto XVI con i giovani della Federazione universitari cattolici italiani
È possibile l'amicizia tra l'intelligenza e la fede
"È possibile l'amicizia tra l'intelligenza e la fede". Lo ha ricordato Benedetto XVI ai giovani della Fuci (Federazione Universitaria Cattolica Italiana) ricevuti in udienza nella mattina del 9 novembre, in occasione del 110° anniversario di fondazione. Durante l'incontro, svoltosi nella Sala Clementina, il Papa ha sottolineato come proprio nell'ambito del dialogo tra "fides et ratio" la FUCI possa esprimere appieno anche oggi il suo antico e sempre attuale carisma. Ciò - ha avvertito il Pontefice - "comporta lo sforzo incessante di coniugare la maturazione nella fede con la crescita nello studio e l'acquisizione del sapere scientifico". In tale contesto acquisisce un originale significato l'espressione cara alla Federazione: "credere nello studio". Perché - si è chiesto Benedetto XVI - "ritenere che chi ha fede debba rinunciare alla ricerca libera della verità, e chi cerca liberamente la verità debba rinunciare alla fede"? La risposta del Pontefice è invece possibilista. Proprio durante gli studi universitari e grazie ad essi - ha spiegato -, si può realizzare "un'autentica maturazione umana, scientifica e spirituale".
Cari giovani amici della FUCI,
mi è particolarmente gradita questa vostra visita, che compite al termine delle celebrazioni per il centodecimo anniversario della nascita della vostra Associazione, la FUCI, Federazione Universitaria Cattolica Italiana. Rivolgo a ciascuno di voi il mio saluto cordiale, incominciando dai Presidenti Nazionali e dall'Assistente Ecclesiastico Centrale, e li ringrazio per le parole che mi hanno rivolto a vostro nome. Saluto Monsignor Giuseppe Betori, Segretario Generale della Conferenza Episcopale Italiana, e Mons. Domenico Sigalini, Vescovo di Palestrina ed Assistente Ecclesiastico Generale dell'Azione Cattolica Italiana, che vi hanno accompagnato in questa Udienza e che con la loro presenza testimoniano il forte radicamento della FUCI nella Chiesa che è in Italia. Saluto gli Assistenti diocesani e i membri della Fondazione FUCI. A tutti e a ciascuno rinnovo l'apprezzamento della Chiesa per il lavoro che la vostra Associazione svolge nel mondo universitario al servizio del Vangelo.
La FUCI celebra i suoi 110 anni: un'occasione propizia per guardare al cammino percorso e alle prospettive future. La custodia della memoria storica rappresenta un prezioso valore perché, nel considerare la validità e la consistenza delle proprie radici, si è più facilmente spinti a proseguire con entusiasmo l'itinerario avviato. In questa lieta circostanza, riprendo volentieri le parole che dieci anni or sono ebbe a rivolgervi il mio venerato e amato predecessore Giovanni Paolo II, in occasione del vostro centenario: "La storia di questi 100 anni - egli disse - sta proprio a confermare che la vicenda della FUCI costituisce un significativo capitolo nella vita della Chiesa in Italia, in particolare in quel vasto e multiforme movimento laicale che ha avuto nell'Azione Cattolica il suo asse portante" (Insegnamenti di Giovanni Paolo II, XIX, 1 [1996], p. 1110).
Come non riconoscere che la FUCI ha contribuito alla formazione di intere generazioni di cristiani esemplari, che hanno saputo tradurre nella vita e con la vita il Vangelo, impegnandosi sul piano culturale, civile, sociale ed ecclesiale? Penso, in primo luogo, ai beati Piergiorgio Frassati e Alberto Marvelli, vostri coetanei; ricordo personalità illustri come Aldo Moro e Vittorio Bachelet, entrambi barbaramente uccisi; né posso dimenticare il mio venerato predecessore Paolo VI, che fu attento e coraggioso Assistente ecclesiastico centrale della FUCI nei difficili anni del fascismo, e poi Mons. Emilio Guano e Mons. Franco Costa. I recenti dieci anni sono stati inoltre caratterizzati dal deciso impegno della FUCI di riscoprire la propria dimensione universitaria. Dopo non pochi dibattiti e accese discussioni, a metà degli anni Novanta, in Italia si è posto mano ad una radicale riforma del sistema accademico, che ora presenta una nuova fisionomia, carica di promettenti prospettive insieme però ad elementi che suscitano una legittima preoccupazione. E voi, sia nei recenti Congressi che sulle pagine della rivista Ricerca, vi siete costantemente preoccupati della nuova configurazione degli studi accademici, delle relative modifiche legislative, del tema della partecipazione studentesca e dei modi in cui le dinamiche globali della comunicazione incidono sulla formazione e sulla trasmissione del sapere.
È proprio in questo ambito che la FUCI può esprimere appieno anche oggi il suo antico e sempre attuale carisma: e cioè la convinta testimonianza della "possibile amicizia" tra l'intelligenza e la fede, che comporta lo sforzo incessante di coniugare la maturazione nella fede con la crescita nello studio e l'acquisizione del sapere scientifico. In questo contesto acquista significativo valore l'espressione a voi cara: "credere nello studio". In effetti, perché ritenere che chi ha fede debba rinunciare alla ricerca libera della verità, e chi cerca liberamente la verità debba rinunciare alla fede? È invece possibile, proprio durante gli studi universitari e grazie ad essi, realizzare un'autentica maturazione umana, scientifica e spirituale. "Credere nello studio" vuol dire riconoscere che lo studio e la ricerca - specialmente durante gli anni dell'Università - posseggono un'intrinseca forza di allargamento degli orizzonti dell'intelligenza umana, purché lo studio accademico conservi un profilo esigente, rigoroso, serio, metodico e progressivo. A queste condizioni, anzi, esso rappresenta un vantaggio per la formazione globale della persona umana, come soleva dire il beato Giuseppe Tovini, osservando che con lo studio i giovani non sarebbero mai stati poveri, mentre senza lo studio non sarebbero mai stati ricchi.
Lo studio costituisce, al tempo stesso, una provvidenziale opportunità per avanzare nel cammino della fede, perché l'intelligenza ben coltivata apre il cuore dell'uomo all'ascolto della voce di Dio, evidenziando l'importanza del discernimento e dell'umiltà. Proprio al valore dell'umiltà mi riferivo nella recente Agorà di Loreto, quando esortavo i giovani italiani a non seguire la strada dell'orgoglio, bensì quella di un realistico senso della vita aperto alla dimensione trascendente. Oggi, come in passato, chi vuole essere discepolo di Cristo è chiamato ad andare controcorrente, a non lasciarsi attrarre da richiami interessati e suadenti che provengono da diversi pulpiti dove sono propagandati comportamenti improntati all'arroganza e alla violenza, alla prepotenza e alla conquista del successo con ogni mezzo. Si registra nell'attuale società una corsa talora sfrenata all'apparire e all'avere a scapito purtroppo dell'essere, e la Chiesa, maestra di umanità, non si stanca di esortare specialmente le nuove generazioni, alle quali voi appartenete, a restare vigilanti e a non temere di scegliere vie "alternative" che solo Cristo sa indicare.
Sì, cari amici, Gesù chiama tutti i suoi amici a improntare la loro esistenza ad un modo di vivere sobrio e solidale, a tessere relazioni affettive sincere e gratuite con gli altri. A voi, cari giovani studenti, chiede di impegnarvi onestamente nello studio, coltivando un maturo senso di responsabilità ed un interesse condiviso per il bene comune. Gli anni dell'Università siano pertanto palestra di convinta e coraggiosa testimonianza evangelica. E per realizzare questa vostra missione, cercate di coltivare un'intima amicizia con il divino Maestro, ponendovi alla scuola di Maria, Sede della Sapienza. Alla sua materna intercessione vi affido e, mentre vi assicuro un ricordo nella preghiera, imparto di cuore a tutti con affetto una speciale Benedizione apostolica, che volentieri estendo alle vostre famiglie e alle persone a voi care.
sabato, novembre 10, 2007
venerdì, novembre 09, 2007
giovedì, novembre 08, 2007
mercoledì, novembre 07, 2007
Mark Shea
Dopo aver incontrato Dawn Eden un paio di volte, oggi ho conosciuto un'altra blogstar: Mark Shea. Mark, ex evangelico convertito al cattolicesimo in età adulta, è apologeta e scrittore. Da leggere, in particolare, i suoi pamphlet sul Codice da Vinci, le Cronache di Narnia e The Passion.
martedì, novembre 06, 2007
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T.S. Eliot
(Non smetteremo di esplorare
E alla fine di tutto il nostro andare
Ritorneremo al punto di partenza
Per conoscerlo per la prima volta)
Grazie a Etty.
lunedì, novembre 05, 2007
Questa è una recensione del libro su Newman al quale ho collaborato. Sul sito dove è apparsa si trovano anche un paio di commenti dei lettori.
Francis Phillips Thursday, 11 October 2007
An eminent Victorian
More than a hundred years after his death, the figure of John Henry Newman continues to
fascinate.
John Henry Newman in His Time edited by Philippe Lefebvre and Colin Mason Family Publications 2007 272 pages £11. 95ISBN: 1871217695
When we think of giants of the Victorian era we can muster the names of Gladstone, Disraeli, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, Florence Nightingale, Matthew Arnold and Charles Dickens among others. In this roll of honour John Henry Newman should surely have a place. Although first and foremost a churchman who made a decisive contribution to theology, in particular the development of Christian doctrine, he also contributed in a more subtle way to the elevation of the moral and spiritual tone of his age.
In our own time, too, we have need of his energetic, confident and original mind, most especially in the religious/scientific debate. How Newman would have deplored the contemporary polarisation of this debate, with creationists rejecting scientific evidence as blasphemous on the one hand and neo-Darwinians such as Richard Dawkins, dismissing religious enquiry as mere opinion on the other.
For Newman was not perturbed by The Origin of Species, published in 1859; indeed, he was open to the possibilities of natural evolution. His own two lectures on the relationship between science and religion had been published in 1858 and in them he had made it clear that both were branches of knowledge, the one knowledge of nature and the other knowledge of God. He firmly believed the latter knowledge was as intellectually legitimate as the former. He had the prescience to recognise that if these two distinct disciplines overstepped their boundaries they would stray into territory which they were not equipped to understand – just as is the case today.
This book is the first of a two-volume project and presents Newman in relation to the long era in which he lived, while the second will explore aspects of his theological writing in greater detail. As such, it is aimed at a general readership rather than a scholarly one. Newman would have rejoiced at this, not because he cared for fame for its own sake but because, unusually for his times, when lay people were perceived as subordinate within a dominant clerical culture, he recognised the pressing need for an educated, informed, confident and articulate Catholic laity.
Twelve writers have contributed chapters that discuss both the places that are associated with Newman – Oxford, Littlemore, Rome, Birmingham and Dublin - and the different facets of his richly varied and productive life. For those who know something of Newman's place within the Oxford or Tractarian movement and his celebrated conversion in 1845 which shook the Anglican establishment to its core, but who are not familiar with the latter half of his life, it will provide an excellent introduction to a fascinating and attractive figure.
For Newman comes alive in these chapters, most especially, it seems to me, as a pastor and a poet. By pastor I mean that behind all his activities and his writings lay one overriding concern: his zeal for souls; by poet I mean not so much his actual writing of verse but the beauty, rhythm and musicality that touched his pen when he wrote in prose and which so forcibly struck his listeners when he preached.
As a young tutor at Oriel College, Oxford, Newman recognised that the tutorial office "possessed an inherent moral, spiritual and pastoral dimension". This was almost a revolutionary idea at a time when the university still allowed `gentlemen commoners' – the sons of the rich and titled – to treat their colleges as worldly finishing schools. It was Newman's gentle but determined influence, and that of his friends, such as John Keble, within the Oxford movement, that gradually brought about both the reform of the tutor/student relationship and the raising of academic standards, for which Oxford and Cambridge have been justly famous among universities.
Unusually for a cleric and distinguished academic of those times, he also took his responsibilities for his small, poor and entirely undistinguished parish of Littlemore, a village outside Oxford, with great seriousness, believing "I have the responsibility of souls on me". He visited his parish, either on horseback on in a fly, two or three times a week, despite his other onerous duties and was greatly loved by his parishioners. Years later, the parish clerk of Littlemore visited the celebrated Oratorian priest in Birmingham, to be greeted warmly with "Come in, come in and tell me about my dear people."
Leaving Littlemore in 1846 was a painful but necessary parting. Newman, a man of great sensibility, evidenced by the motto he chose as cardinal, "Heart speaks to heart", kissed the bed and mantelpiece of the place that had given him refuge and where he had been received, without pomp or ceremony, into the Church.
Why the Oratorian Order – and, a greater curiosity, why Birmingham? Newman had thought of joining other Orders but when he finally encountered the charism of St Philip Neri it was decisive: "An Oratory is a family and a home; a domestic circle", he wrote. As St Philip resided in Rome, so Newman resided in Birmingham. For Newman, the great city at the heart of the industrial revolution was where providence had placed him; some years later he was to issue a stern rebuke to Mgr George Talbot who had wanted him to come and preach in Rome: "Birmingham people have souls." Thousands responded to this loyalty by lining the streets to pay their last respects as his funeral procession passed by.
A chapter on Newman the preacher gives the reader a glimpse of the magnetic effect the man had on those privileged to listen to him. Preaching was not considered an important part of university life when Newman started out; but from the time when he instituted a 4 o'clock sermon on Sunday afternoons at St Mary's university church in Oxford to a congregation which swelled from a few people to nearly 600 as his fame spread, to the sermons he preached later in the Oratory church and to the boys of the Oratory School in Edgbaston, all the recorded reminiscences of his listeners echo the same response.
Matthew Arnold's description of "that spiritual apparition, gliding in the dim afternoon light" bears eloquent testimony, but there are many less well-known people who recorded similarly moving impressions of the musicality, the poetry, timbre of voice, aura and intensity of the preacher. Newman used vivid, concrete illustrations; he was steeped in Scripture and possessed acute psychological insights; above all he had the gift of seeming to address each listener personally as if he understood their inner travail.
For his times Newman's ideas on education were highly original. In Dublin and later at the Oratory School which he founded, Newman emphasised trust, friendship, pastoral care, a close rapport between staff and parents and the need for relaxation as well as academic work. The boys referred to him affectionately as "Old Jack" and he, in turn, interested himself in every aspect of their school life, directing the Latin plays and sometimes playing second violin in the school orchestra. He believed in educating laymen, "fit for this world while it trained them for another", in contrast to the junior seminaries and to the great Anglican public schools of the period. Lord Salisbury, the Anglican prime minister, was loath to send his own sons to Eton because of the brutality of the milieu. Newman, who had enjoyed unusually happy schooldays at Ealing School, intended to create a different model of schoolboy life than that which was on offer during the period for the sons of gentlemen.
Such a brief summary cannot do justice to what this book manages to achieve: without introducing new material it brings together so much of what made Newman the exceptional person he was. His life – 1801 to 1890 – had spanned almost the whole of the 19th century, from before the Battle of Trafalgar to almost the advent of the motor car, and he had exercised a huge influence on the spiritual and serious life of the Victorian era. He was also a deeply lovable human being.
Perhaps the most moving tribute to his memory I have met with and one which shows most clearly the universality of his appeal comes from a devout, working-class family from the Oratory parish in Birmingham. The proud parents of 14 children, one of their sons was born with Down's syndrome. What did they choose to christen him? John Henry.
Francis Phillips writes from Bucks in the UK.
Francis Phillips Thursday, 11 October 2007
An eminent Victorian
More than a hundred years after his death, the figure of John Henry Newman continues to
fascinate.
John Henry Newman in His Time edited by Philippe Lefebvre and Colin Mason Family Publications 2007 272 pages £11. 95ISBN: 1871217695
When we think of giants of the Victorian era we can muster the names of Gladstone, Disraeli, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, Florence Nightingale, Matthew Arnold and Charles Dickens among others. In this roll of honour John Henry Newman should surely have a place. Although first and foremost a churchman who made a decisive contribution to theology, in particular the development of Christian doctrine, he also contributed in a more subtle way to the elevation of the moral and spiritual tone of his age.
In our own time, too, we have need of his energetic, confident and original mind, most especially in the religious/scientific debate. How Newman would have deplored the contemporary polarisation of this debate, with creationists rejecting scientific evidence as blasphemous on the one hand and neo-Darwinians such as Richard Dawkins, dismissing religious enquiry as mere opinion on the other.
For Newman was not perturbed by The Origin of Species, published in 1859; indeed, he was open to the possibilities of natural evolution. His own two lectures on the relationship between science and religion had been published in 1858 and in them he had made it clear that both were branches of knowledge, the one knowledge of nature and the other knowledge of God. He firmly believed the latter knowledge was as intellectually legitimate as the former. He had the prescience to recognise that if these two distinct disciplines overstepped their boundaries they would stray into territory which they were not equipped to understand – just as is the case today.
This book is the first of a two-volume project and presents Newman in relation to the long era in which he lived, while the second will explore aspects of his theological writing in greater detail. As such, it is aimed at a general readership rather than a scholarly one. Newman would have rejoiced at this, not because he cared for fame for its own sake but because, unusually for his times, when lay people were perceived as subordinate within a dominant clerical culture, he recognised the pressing need for an educated, informed, confident and articulate Catholic laity.
Twelve writers have contributed chapters that discuss both the places that are associated with Newman – Oxford, Littlemore, Rome, Birmingham and Dublin - and the different facets of his richly varied and productive life. For those who know something of Newman's place within the Oxford or Tractarian movement and his celebrated conversion in 1845 which shook the Anglican establishment to its core, but who are not familiar with the latter half of his life, it will provide an excellent introduction to a fascinating and attractive figure.
For Newman comes alive in these chapters, most especially, it seems to me, as a pastor and a poet. By pastor I mean that behind all his activities and his writings lay one overriding concern: his zeal for souls; by poet I mean not so much his actual writing of verse but the beauty, rhythm and musicality that touched his pen when he wrote in prose and which so forcibly struck his listeners when he preached.
As a young tutor at Oriel College, Oxford, Newman recognised that the tutorial office "possessed an inherent moral, spiritual and pastoral dimension". This was almost a revolutionary idea at a time when the university still allowed `gentlemen commoners' – the sons of the rich and titled – to treat their colleges as worldly finishing schools. It was Newman's gentle but determined influence, and that of his friends, such as John Keble, within the Oxford movement, that gradually brought about both the reform of the tutor/student relationship and the raising of academic standards, for which Oxford and Cambridge have been justly famous among universities.
Unusually for a cleric and distinguished academic of those times, he also took his responsibilities for his small, poor and entirely undistinguished parish of Littlemore, a village outside Oxford, with great seriousness, believing "I have the responsibility of souls on me". He visited his parish, either on horseback on in a fly, two or three times a week, despite his other onerous duties and was greatly loved by his parishioners. Years later, the parish clerk of Littlemore visited the celebrated Oratorian priest in Birmingham, to be greeted warmly with "Come in, come in and tell me about my dear people."
Leaving Littlemore in 1846 was a painful but necessary parting. Newman, a man of great sensibility, evidenced by the motto he chose as cardinal, "Heart speaks to heart", kissed the bed and mantelpiece of the place that had given him refuge and where he had been received, without pomp or ceremony, into the Church.
Why the Oratorian Order – and, a greater curiosity, why Birmingham? Newman had thought of joining other Orders but when he finally encountered the charism of St Philip Neri it was decisive: "An Oratory is a family and a home; a domestic circle", he wrote. As St Philip resided in Rome, so Newman resided in Birmingham. For Newman, the great city at the heart of the industrial revolution was where providence had placed him; some years later he was to issue a stern rebuke to Mgr George Talbot who had wanted him to come and preach in Rome: "Birmingham people have souls." Thousands responded to this loyalty by lining the streets to pay their last respects as his funeral procession passed by.
A chapter on Newman the preacher gives the reader a glimpse of the magnetic effect the man had on those privileged to listen to him. Preaching was not considered an important part of university life when Newman started out; but from the time when he instituted a 4 o'clock sermon on Sunday afternoons at St Mary's university church in Oxford to a congregation which swelled from a few people to nearly 600 as his fame spread, to the sermons he preached later in the Oratory church and to the boys of the Oratory School in Edgbaston, all the recorded reminiscences of his listeners echo the same response.
Matthew Arnold's description of "that spiritual apparition, gliding in the dim afternoon light" bears eloquent testimony, but there are many less well-known people who recorded similarly moving impressions of the musicality, the poetry, timbre of voice, aura and intensity of the preacher. Newman used vivid, concrete illustrations; he was steeped in Scripture and possessed acute psychological insights; above all he had the gift of seeming to address each listener personally as if he understood their inner travail.
For his times Newman's ideas on education were highly original. In Dublin and later at the Oratory School which he founded, Newman emphasised trust, friendship, pastoral care, a close rapport between staff and parents and the need for relaxation as well as academic work. The boys referred to him affectionately as "Old Jack" and he, in turn, interested himself in every aspect of their school life, directing the Latin plays and sometimes playing second violin in the school orchestra. He believed in educating laymen, "fit for this world while it trained them for another", in contrast to the junior seminaries and to the great Anglican public schools of the period. Lord Salisbury, the Anglican prime minister, was loath to send his own sons to Eton because of the brutality of the milieu. Newman, who had enjoyed unusually happy schooldays at Ealing School, intended to create a different model of schoolboy life than that which was on offer during the period for the sons of gentlemen.
Such a brief summary cannot do justice to what this book manages to achieve: without introducing new material it brings together so much of what made Newman the exceptional person he was. His life – 1801 to 1890 – had spanned almost the whole of the 19th century, from before the Battle of Trafalgar to almost the advent of the motor car, and he had exercised a huge influence on the spiritual and serious life of the Victorian era. He was also a deeply lovable human being.
Perhaps the most moving tribute to his memory I have met with and one which shows most clearly the universality of his appeal comes from a devout, working-class family from the Oratory parish in Birmingham. The proud parents of 14 children, one of their sons was born with Down's syndrome. What did they choose to christen him? John Henry.
Francis Phillips writes from Bucks in the UK.
domenica, novembre 04, 2007
sabato, novembre 03, 2007
RIMINI - L'ultimo intervento pubblico di don Oreste Benzi prima di morire è stato riservato alla morte della donna seviziata a Roma. «Chi non rimane sconvolto, addolorato, sdegnato venendo a conoscere ciò che il giovane romeno ha fatto alla povera Giovanna Reggiani? Al di là dell'emozione bisogna però usare la ragione» aveva commentato il sacerdote. L'associazione Papa Giovanni XXIII opera in Romania da una decina d'anni. «I funzionari della polizia romena con i quali collaboriamo nel rimpatrio delle giovani romene da noi liberate (nel 2006 ne abbiamo riportate in patria 60) ci dicono: "i lupi feroci siete voi italiani. Voi oggi in Italia sbranate più di 30.000 ragazze romene, metà sono bambine. Siete voi che foraggiate, mantenete i criminali romeni che le sfruttano e le tengono schiave con almeno duecento milioni di euro all'anno di guadagno. Sono i vostri maschi italiani che pagano i delinquenti romeni. Noi dobbiamo chiedere perdono alla signora barbaramente massacrata. Ma voi dovreste stare in ginocchio tutto l'anno perché massacrate le nostre bambine. Siete voi italiani delinquenti che chiamate i nostri delinquenti romeni, e i vostri delinquenti sono molto, ma molto di più dei nostri"».
«IPOCRISIA» - «Hanno ragione - sosteneva don Benzi -. I componenti dell'osservatorio nazionale sulla prostituzione, compresi i cattolici, non hanno voluto seguire le direttive del Dicastero della Chiesa sui migranti, che chiede di proibire la prostituzione e di punire i clienti come chiediamo noi. Non hanno voluto colpire questo fenomeno includendolo nel pacchetto sicurezza, non si sono preoccupati di liberare le ragazze sfruttate. Questa è la grande ipocrisia dilagante oggi. Abbiamo mandato tante ragazze a raccontare le loro incredibili storie di sfruttamento nelle televisioni italiane, a cosa è servito?». Don Benzi aveva chiesto al ministro dell'Interno Amato «di emanare un decreto urgente con la precisazione di tutti gli atti di favoreggiamento e di adescamento, compreso li sequestro della macchina del cliente, che sono oggi impuniti, in modo da rendere impossibile al cliente l'avvicinarsi alle donne». «Un altro errore gravissimo - aveva ancora ammonito - si sta compiendo oggi: lo sgombero dei campi nomadi senza avere prima preparato loro il posto dove collocarli. Così aumenta il disagio e si accresce la criminalità».
http://www.corriere.it/
«IPOCRISIA» - «Hanno ragione - sosteneva don Benzi -. I componenti dell'osservatorio nazionale sulla prostituzione, compresi i cattolici, non hanno voluto seguire le direttive del Dicastero della Chiesa sui migranti, che chiede di proibire la prostituzione e di punire i clienti come chiediamo noi. Non hanno voluto colpire questo fenomeno includendolo nel pacchetto sicurezza, non si sono preoccupati di liberare le ragazze sfruttate. Questa è la grande ipocrisia dilagante oggi. Abbiamo mandato tante ragazze a raccontare le loro incredibili storie di sfruttamento nelle televisioni italiane, a cosa è servito?». Don Benzi aveva chiesto al ministro dell'Interno Amato «di emanare un decreto urgente con la precisazione di tutti gli atti di favoreggiamento e di adescamento, compreso li sequestro della macchina del cliente, che sono oggi impuniti, in modo da rendere impossibile al cliente l'avvicinarsi alle donne». «Un altro errore gravissimo - aveva ancora ammonito - si sta compiendo oggi: lo sgombero dei campi nomadi senza avere prima preparato loro il posto dove collocarli. Così aumenta il disagio e si accresce la criminalità».
http://www.corriere.it/
venerdì, novembre 02, 2007
Nulla die sine linea
L'intero mese di ottobre e' passato senza che potessi dedicare un solo minuto al blog. Mi dispiace ma sono impegnatissimo. Ho 12 ore di lezione a settimana anzi, ad essere precisi, 10 di insegnamento e 2 di tutoraggio, e la preparazione richiede molto tempo. Inoltre sto traducendo un manuale di fenomenologia, piuttosto complesso, e un pomeriggio a settimana lavoro part-time in biblioteca. Insomma il lavoro non manca.
Per il mese di novembre, pero', prometto un aggiornamento al giorno.
Nulla die sine linea.
Per il mese di novembre, pero', prometto un aggiornamento al giorno.
Nulla die sine linea.
giovedì, novembre 01, 2007
A Short Road to Perfection
By Ven. John Henry Newman, September 27, 1856
It is the saying of holy men that, if we wish to be perfect, we have nothing more to do than to perform the ordinary duties of the day well. A short road to perfection—short, not because easy, but because pertinent and intelligible. There are no short ways to perfection, but there are sure ones.
I think this is an instruction which may be of great practical use to persons like ourselves. It is easy to have vague ideas what perfection is, which serve well enough to talk about, when we do not intend to aim at it; but as soon as a person really desires and sets about seeking it himself, he is dissatisfied with anything but what is tangible and clear, and constitutes some sort of direction towards the practice of it.
We must bear in mind what is meant by perfection. It does not mean any extraordinary service, anything out of the way, or especially heroic—not all have the opportunity of heroic acts, of sufferings—but it means what the word perfection ordinarily means. By perfect we mean that which has no flaw in it, that which is complete, that which is consistent, that which is sound—we mean the opposite to imperfect. As we know well what imperfection in religious service means, we know by the contrast what is meant by perfection.
He, then, is perfect who does the work of the day perfectly, and we need not go beyond this to seek for perfection. You need not go out of the round of the day.
I insist on this because I think it will simplify our views, and fix our exertions on a definite aim.
If you ask me what you are to do in order to be perfect, I say:
1. Do not lie in bed beyond the due time of rising
2. Give your first thoughts to God
3. Make a good visit to the Blessed Sacrament
4. Say the Angelus devoutly
5. Eat and drink to God’s glory
6. Say the Rosary well
7. Be recollected
8. Keep out bad thoughts
9. Make your evening meditation well
10. Examine yourself daily
11. Go to bed in good time
[Do all these things] and you are already perfect.
(Adapted from his book, Meditations and Devotions)
By Ven. John Henry Newman, September 27, 1856
It is the saying of holy men that, if we wish to be perfect, we have nothing more to do than to perform the ordinary duties of the day well. A short road to perfection—short, not because easy, but because pertinent and intelligible. There are no short ways to perfection, but there are sure ones.
I think this is an instruction which may be of great practical use to persons like ourselves. It is easy to have vague ideas what perfection is, which serve well enough to talk about, when we do not intend to aim at it; but as soon as a person really desires and sets about seeking it himself, he is dissatisfied with anything but what is tangible and clear, and constitutes some sort of direction towards the practice of it.
We must bear in mind what is meant by perfection. It does not mean any extraordinary service, anything out of the way, or especially heroic—not all have the opportunity of heroic acts, of sufferings—but it means what the word perfection ordinarily means. By perfect we mean that which has no flaw in it, that which is complete, that which is consistent, that which is sound—we mean the opposite to imperfect. As we know well what imperfection in religious service means, we know by the contrast what is meant by perfection.
He, then, is perfect who does the work of the day perfectly, and we need not go beyond this to seek for perfection. You need not go out of the round of the day.
I insist on this because I think it will simplify our views, and fix our exertions on a definite aim.
If you ask me what you are to do in order to be perfect, I say:
1. Do not lie in bed beyond the due time of rising
2. Give your first thoughts to God
3. Make a good visit to the Blessed Sacrament
4. Say the Angelus devoutly
5. Eat and drink to God’s glory
6. Say the Rosary well
7. Be recollected
8. Keep out bad thoughts
9. Make your evening meditation well
10. Examine yourself daily
11. Go to bed in good time
[Do all these things] and you are already perfect.
(Adapted from his book, Meditations and Devotions)
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