"Words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem. Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities, all is vanity." Preacher (Ecclesiastes) 1.1 to 2
"Life is a wonderful thing. Without it we would die" (anonymous)
In spite of those who consider entering the month of November, a period of sadness associated all'incedere autumn when the leaves levan you one and then the other, as long as' the branch the earth surrenders all its spoils , this time instead of me has always seemed a good time to spend in reflection.
space created between the last spurs memories of summer and the slow awakening of the sun from its sleepy withdraw, due to open shortly before leaving the field open to pagan celebrations and baccannali Christmas. The November
no! It 's different. Despite the pervasive attempts to infiltrate even here the fashion stars and stripes Halloween pumpkins with its patchwork of increasingly empty. Quite different from our traditional one and 2 November, The saints and the dead.
Strangely, since the saints are dead, we must imagine that the second of a two-day celebration is devoted mainly to others, that the dead who have not had the good fortune to rise to the honors of the empyrean. The damned short. At the limit, the purgatory.
And besides, as we remember Prince Antonio De Curtis, in art Totò, "'A Death' or ssaje ched''e? ... Is a level" . Ben is then also a day dedicated to all those who were and are no more, without distinction of birth and wealth, reputation and culture, the waiting and age. But even holiness.
Yeah. Death. November is a perfect month to ponder this amazing concept, perhaps helped by a book properly (I, for example, I am reading the book "Something to believe in" Cardinal Martini, recently published by Piemme) and a glass of wine for thought . Says an old Yiddish proverb "Dust you are and dust you shall return, but between a powder and the other a glass does not hurt" .
It is not get caught up in depression. Quite the contrary. Sometimes the thought of the limit can be extremely reassuring. It gives meaning to life and makes it worth living in an authentic way. It assigns a value invaluable for every single moment.
do not know if all prove the same feeling of peace and tranquility I feel when I visit the cemetery in my home country. Not only during the celebrations in November. Often, when you understand, do a lap around the cemetery looking for familiar faces, some family members.
and meditation, each dedicated to a memory for the time spent together. A piece of me is gone, but at that moment meeting. A rupture that heals. This is sweet thoughts. Episodes are pleased that remain linked. Exchanged a joke. A playful story. A moment of serenity.
time to time, as is normal, the mind wanders, and also dwells on what could be dopo. Una vita nuova, oppure il riposo eterno. L'incedere degli anni, i segni del tempo che passa, acuiscono il sentimento di comunanza che tutti ci affratella in un unico destino.
La vita. La morte. Le gioie. Il dolore. L'amore. Il lutto. Un ciclo che da tempo immemore continuamente si compie e si rinnova. In attesa di una risposta che forse conosceremo. O forse no. Perché il pensiero della fine degli altri ci rimanda inevitabilmente all'estremità del nostro viaggio.
Il 12 febbraio 1984, poche settimane prima di terminare la sua esperienza terrena, il teologo Karl Rahner, nella sua ultima lezione tenuta all'Università di Friburgo di Brisgovia si esprimeva con le seguenti parole.
«Un giorno gli angeli della morte spazzeranno away from the maze of our minds all the unnecessary waste, we say that our history (although the true essence of freedom remains in place).
One day all the stars of our ideals, with which we ourselves had arrogantly draped the heaven of our existence, will cease to shine and go out.
One day death will usher in a vacuum unusually silent, and we welcome this void with faith, hope, and in silence as our true essence.
One day all our former life, however long, it will appear as a single short explosion of our freedom, we felt that extended only because we saw in slow motion, an explosion in which the application is turned in response, the possibility in reality, the time in eternity, the freedom offered freely translated into action "...
Today we tend to think less and less to the impermanence of this freedom and its importance to good use. The idea of \u200b\u200bthe end of physical decline, the disease will be moved or removed continuously in the hope (vain) to ease the anguish of our insecurity.
We live always in the present. "Dum loquimur fugerit envy aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credulous postero" . We try to extend beyond all the youth (that runs however), but then when we realize we scared of growing old o quando percepiamo il declino di una persona a noi vicina.
«A volte, come i bambini che hanno timore del buio, così noi temiamo, alla luce del giorno, per cose altrettanto inconsistenti di quelle di cui al buio ha paura il bambino» .
Lo riconosceva anche un autore controverso come lo spagnolo Miguel de Unamuno. «Per quanto, sul principio, ci sia angosciosa questa meditazione sulla nostra mortalità, ci risulta infine corroborante. [...] Il rimedio è confrontarsi faccia a faccia, fissando lo sguardo nello sguardo della sfinge; è così che si spezza il suo incantesimo» .
Il crepuscolo dell'anno che si compie nella stagione autunnale può diventare il nostro memento mori, a chance to judge our existence in its unfolding. A time of contemplation, which translates into gratitude for the precious gift of life, and especially social relationships with others, which is its heart.
Participation in ceremonies to the solemnities of November may help to reconcile us with the size of our finitude. For those who believe in a future life, waiting for active and full of hope for what is to come. For those who expect nothing, to think about us, made of the same substance of which dreams are made ... and our little life surrounded by sleep . Marco Ciani
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