Come, Spouse of Christ! Veni, Sponsa Christi! Ahhh...how does one write an article about such a profound event?! ...Being set apart for the praise of God, being deputed to intercede on behalf of the Church and the world... Sr. Rose Marie's Profession of Vows was such a mystical experience. I shall

In New Spain, Conceptionist and Jeronymite nuns adorned their habits with religious escudos, pictorial badges promoting their favored Marian devotions. The opulent emblems not only articulated a woman’s religious affiliations, family fortune, and ethnic purity but also expressed her desire to influence political opinion.

Türk yarışçılığının bugüne dek en başarılı safkanları arasında yer alan Bold Pilot, yarış birincilikleri kadar, pistteki sıra dışı duruşu ile de yarışseverle...

St. Isidora the Fool (Feast Day - May 1) At the Convent of the Great Pachomios, in Tabennesis, there lived another nun, Isidora, who pretended, for Christ’s sake, to be insane and a demoniac. To such an extent did the others abhor her, that they did not eat with her; this is something that she, herself, had chosen. She moved about the kitchen doing every sort of chore, and was, as they say, the scrubbing-cloth of the monastery, while she put into practice the command: “Whosoever of you believes that he is wise by the measure of this world, may he become a fool, so as to become truly wise.” She served the Convent with a rag wrapped around her head, while all of the others had their hair cropped short and wore koukoulia. Not one of the four-hundred nuns had ever seen her eat normally so much as once in her life. She swept the Trapeza and washed the pots; the crumbs and leftovers were sufficient for her, because she never sat at table nor touched a piece of bread. Never did she insult anyone, never was she resentful, and never did she utter a superfluous word, despite the fact that they buffeted her, insulted her, railed at her and spit at her. An Angel appeared to St. Piteroum, a man confirmed in virtues who lived in asceticism on Mt. Porphyrite, and said to him: “Why do you boast that you are pious by remaining in this place? Would you like to meet a woman who is more pious than you? Go to the Convent of those of Tabennesis, and there you will find a nun who wears a crown on her head. She is superior to you. She contends with such a multitude, and yet her heart has never distanced itself from God. As for you, you sit here, but your mind wanders through the cities." Hence, he who had never before left his cell arose and besought the spiritual Fathers to allow him to visit the Convent. Since he was a renowned Elder, they gave him leave. When he entered, he asked to see all of the nuns, but St. Isidora did not appear. Finally, he said to them: “Bring them all to me. One is missing.” They answered him: “There is one more in the kitchen who is a fool.” (So do they call those possessed by a demon.) He said to them: “Bring her to me also. Allow me to see her.” They went and called her, but she did not submit, either because she understood what was about to happen or because it had been revealed to her. So they dragged her by force, telling her: “The holy Piteroum wishes to see you” (he was, to be sure, well known). When she had presented herself, the Saint noticed the rag on her forehead (her “crown”), fell down before her, and said: “Bless me.” In the same way, she also fell at his feet, saying: “You bless me, my lord.” Astonished, they all told him: “Abba, do not debase yourself; she is a fool.” Piteroum silenced them with the words: “You are the fools; she is my and your Amma—thus are spiritual Mothers called—, and I pray that I might be found to be her equal on the Day of Judgment.” Having heard these things, the nuns fell at his feet, and each one confessed the ways in which she had affronted the Saint. One said that she poured filthy dish water on her, another that she struck her with her fists, and yet another that she had smeared her nostrils with mustard. All of them confessed the outrages they had committed against her. St. Piteroum prayed for them and departed. Several days having passed, the fool was not able to bear the glory and honors shown to her by her sisters and, having wearied of their apologies, she left the monastery in secret. No one ever learned where she went, where she hid herself, or how she died. Source: Demetrios Tsasmes, Meterikon, Vol. I (Thessaloniki: 1990), pp. 130-135.

Desde el XVII, en los conventos de Nueva España, la novicia que jura sus votos perpetuos en la ceremonia de profesión es retratada con adornos y joyas, como la reina de un carnaval místico, dentro del género pictórico americano que se llamó de “monjas coronadas”. La visión paulatina —en la muestra que exhibe la Academia de San Fernando de Madrid— de estas muchachas jóvenes y aderezadas, vestidas profusamente, como novias pimpantes y bizantinas para los esponsales con su más extrema soledad, deja una sensación agridulce. Apenas sabemos nada de ellas. Las suyas fueron vidas sin más pasión que su vocación oscura ni más fulgor que el de esta fiesta de consagración. Seguirían sin nombre, si no se hubieran tropezado con el poder que las ensalza en propaganda y las subraya en la medida en que han de ser esa niebla de la que por un instante destacan, un pequeño elemento —una escasa estrategia— dentro de un largo sistema de dominio en el que su sacrificio encaja con toda su complejidad simbólica. Esposas sin marido visible, dibujadas con la palma de su virginidad, estas monjas casi adolescentes ven sustituida su biografía por simbología, dentro del régimen alegórico en el que ingresan, al ser retratadas por el pintor una sola vez, como una pieza más interpretable. Y sin embargo, el poder que las utiliza las dota de sentido, las integra en un vasto proceso de referencialidades. Hace de ellas imágenes directamente exteriores y transcendentes y no sólo porque apelan a un camino “teo” y “teleológico”, sino porque la historia que ofrecen desarrolla la mayor parte de su argumento “fuera del cuadro”. De hecho, éste sorprende y enamora por sus potencialidades. Lo importante de su protagonista desconocida es que abre espacio a una fabulación receptora. Y la torpeza de esa figuración frontal, sin profundidad, se alivia con el relato que estimula, con la otra perspectiva argumental que desenvuelve. Cada monja aparece como el botón de un enunciado. Desde su anonimato facilita un terreno especulativo. Basta percibir algunos detalles para hilvanar un cuento que será su legítimo comentario: * Sor María Antonia de la Purísima Concepción: Aunque eran criollas las que ingresaban en clausura, nadie puede negar las finas gotas de sangre india que a Sor María le negrean los ojos y se los humedecen. Tiene dieciocho años pero parece más niña, al observarnos con temblor desde un gesto que la colocará lejos fe cualquier mirada. En sus manos la vela podría ser aquella lámpara humeante que despertara al Amor cuando Psique, que lo tenía prohibido, espiara a hurtadillas un rostro entonces inolvidable. ¿Es éste de nuevo aquel mismo mito, el del Alma enamorada de Eros? Su esposo, en cualquier caso, se esconde igual de ella. * Sor María Engracia Josefa del Santísimo Rosario: Cada corona opera como herbario jugoso de la flora de México. Fastuosa y tímida, María Engracia ha elegido clavellinas, jazmines, pensamientos, colgantes de la virgen y unos pétalos extraños que podrían ser adormideras. En el centro de la corona ha colocado una muñequita de…

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