Portal de Jumilla
www.portaldejumilla.com
Let me out, Santa Maria, your old temple with no light, because I want aromas with blue clouds of incense.
I want you on your slabs quiets my heart.
Old church to wake up my tenderness and devotion.
Put lights in the darkness and stillness altars miss lily frost and gravitate to the Cross.
Now give me your word that it can condense the feeling of a people, the passion of a city, the tradition of generations of Jumillano that, in coming days of Holy Week, are preparing to commemorate together the death and resurrection of Christ.
As the poet Lorenzo Jumillano Guardiola, who preceded me half a century ago in honor of this special Easter proclamation and who borrowed the words, the beautiful verses, I wanted to start this proclamation of 2011.
Speaking to you today who was born Nazarene.
From an early age taught me to live and feel with each of the senses of identity traits of one of the most extraordinary manifestations of popular piety, the Holy Week.
We share a common feeling, an experience forged over the years under a hood, among tapers and steps.
Mine is a boundless admiration for the men and women who keep alive one of the deepest traditions, an ancient manifestation of faith, inherited from our elders and invaluable legacy for our children.
Today, my words must be preceded by an expression of deep gratitude, gratitude to the Central Board of the Brotherhood for giving me the honor to glorify a Holy Week so deep history as an excellent present.
To share today with you all a moment of singular nazarenía, one in which Easter Jumilla is present, by way of proclamation, to announce that, once again, the processions are about to go out.
Two thousand and eleven is also a special year.
A first class event for Jumillano, for six hundred years met here turn the germ of the Passion made art, visual catechesis and walking processions Jumillano.
Six centuries of the preaching of the Dominican Fray Vicente Ferrer inside the citadel Jumillano.
Then this land was very different from today.
The most serious plague epidemic of 1396 left the city and its population decimated greatly reduced.
Some people could barely get support, not having enough hands to cultivate the land and thus provide those residing in the city and engaged in other trades.
Yet these people, even frightened by the recent illness, but with perseverance and hard work always characterized them, had not abandoned their faith, and were hopeful the message of wisdom and eloquence he recognized, a man of faith that life was already considered an example for all who were fortunate enough to hear his words.
In 1398 Vicente Ferrer was ill in the French city of Avignon, a city that most of the century had been the seat of the papacy.
They had a vision in which Jesus Christ himself, together with Santo Domingo and San Francisco, gave all over the world preaching.
He did, and major cities of Italy, France and Spain welcomed Dominican friar who preached the word of God while calling to resolve the Western Schism, which was engulfed those years the Catholic Church.
San Vicente came to Jumilla preceded by an extraordinary reputation, which included performing miracles, which took place shortly before the August 26, 1410, when in the Valencian town of Liria returned to well water in a dry fountain after saying Mass in this place.
And is that up to 860 miracles occurred in the process of canonization that took place a few years after his death, it was considered holy by the Catholic Church on June 29, 1455, with Pope Callistus III.
Jumilla San Vicente reached between the expectations of the residents, followed by a number of penitents who whipped and a crowd that accompanied him when he entered the town mounted, as Master in Jerusalem on a donkey.
He preached in Jumilla, in the citadel, on the esplanade next to the Torre del Maestre, because it had outgrown the church to hear God's message in the words of his servant.
And with that held Jumillano Easter preaching here the glory of the Resurrection in three sermons remembered that, fortunately, are preserved as they were set forth by St. Vincent.
And here we lit the flame.
Here germinated the word of God, forging long history since the Jumillano processions.
A story that their efforts have wrought with many men and women.
Persons who are remembered with affection, since we were fortunate to share with them his example and lesson.
People also many years ago who went to the heavenly Jerusalem which, however, are remembered in his work, in their brotherhoods, in the heritage bequeathed to them or to those realized.
Because it is impossible to know Jumilla Easter without its historical dimension, without approaching the brotherhoods and processions and in the XV, XVI and XVII roamed the streets of this charming town.
And under that road traveled, we can see how any other city, town or village in our region had in those centuries the number of fraternities and processions, and then completed, one of the most complete Holy Weeks Murcia.
The Jumilla.
And so, when even the Confiscation that Spain was in the early nineteenth rocked the foundations of many guilds, Jumilla was able to emerge in those years, multiplying again for your presence, making it alive if the message of Christ to men through of his passion.
A message in this April Jumillano rise again between the penitent and the thrones of your processions.
Word of God that is alive, and more than ever, this spring loaded with nostalgia, memories having image, color, smell and taste.
In a passion reflected in art and feeling, tradition and recollection, in devotion of a people who processions to God and worship.
"As a pious shroud April tears pouring rain, is mourning the death of Jesus on Calvary.
Land is a censer of flowers in spring and each rose witch.
And every rain poured, is a wound or burn to a tear of wax. "(Jaime Campmany) Because it's time to come back to beat drums, trumpeting from the rooftops that Christ returns to torture for us.
His immense love that leads him to die on the cross and the power of God overcomes death itself and Jesus of Nazareth was resurrected.
Plasma so Jumilla.
Lives so walking the stations of the Via Crucis on Good Friday chairs the image of the Holy Christ of Forgiveness, accompanied by those who want to do penance with him and remember his passion.
The Forgiveness of God walks through the streets of Jumilla.
I wonder why the sun cries your punishment for what the source is silent your bolt and the wind has been in a whisper.
I would understand why you seek me why you insist on continuing to seek indifferent gaze that does not cry when your eyes are crying.
Did Christ mine, and this hurts, I've wanted to do yours my failure?
Help me to find you, my Christ's forgiveness, to get out to meet him, step by step, A broken voice say, Lord, forgive my sins.
Hear it from the last corner of the Jumillano joy to have to live with and learn from Him Nazarene
And so, on Palm Sunday, in the morning that we do not see no bright sunshine and the illusion of large and small, all Jumilla Nazarenes accompany Jesus on his entry into Jerusalem, the procession of the Palms, whose origins date nineteenth century.
But Palm Sunday would not be the same if not Jumilla whole takes to the streets at night and seek the path of the friary of San Francisco, which comes on the shoulders of infinite devotion of his people, Christ Strap the column, sublime and awesome vision of the Redeemer's sacrifice embodied in the genius of art housed.
! What silence, Lord, be on the streets, they just live a sigh!
And we'll walk the moon, walking on tiptoe, stealthily.
And the air circumvent the plants, flowers and fleeing her cry, because the petal, playing with the air, his privates breaks in hawthorn.
! What empty and silent roads, where dust and dirt have fallen asleep!
I have seen some stars mourn with tears of silver and gold.
And I saw some men trying to get out to find your way.
I have loved, O Lord, to follow your steps.
I wanted to go up and I have been away.
I wanted to find you and I'm lost.
I wanted to mourn and I laughed.
I wanted to pray and I have not said.
I wanted, Lord, and I did not want.
What silence, Lord, there will be at night.
If my lips, Holy Christ of the Column are closed! To read your heart with a sigh!
The teacher Piñana, with its art and feeling, which is far and large, through this beautiful bolt in which he sings and prays praying singing has shrunk the heart and has made us invade emotion.
The same emotion and feeling that all Jumillano-and not be so live the intensity of the Jumilla-Easter experience the passing of Christ Tied to the Column.
Then, the thought becomes a prayer.
And you are moved.
And I bow down to so much pain, with much humility, with such grandeur: Count your breathing, stop the march of the minutes and seconds, look at your Christ and say quietly: Christ at the Column, the immense time clock shattering not a drop of sand, that the stars of heaven they are leaving the sublime concert arenas, street bird chirping, to observe the flower its perfume, Conceal yourself forever in the light of the sun ...
But you, Holy Christ Tied to the Column, stop, do not move a step further.
Stay here with me, with my heart, that if he perceived the throb of passion, forgetfulness and ingratitude, and will go at the pace by pacing check yours.
Your Heart Good!
Jumilla and is Semana Santa.
There is silence.
The gathering expected at midnight on Easter Tuesday the penitential procession of the Holy Christ of Life, before whose light step gives way to prayer and walking cadence of mourning penitents.
Silver night under a full moon darkness ripping and running after shadows.
NISAM moon is accentuating the silhouette of the castle and illuminates the streets of Jumilla converted into mystical stage to find just around the corner with the dying figure of Christ or the infinite sorrow of Mary, the Mother.
Night where a galaxy of stars will fall from the sky as tears of pearls, where angels will rock between the silks of memory to alleviate the suffering of those who, being God, was the largest and most painful jeers.
Every church, every parish is preparing to celebrate the Liturgy of Holy Week.
The Easter Triduum will begin and we prepare Christians to live in community of Christ's Triumph over Death.
It is a solemn moment, but certainly not of sadness.
Overwhelms us remember the sacrifice of Jesus, but we know there is light at the end, there is Hope.
We know that Christ conquers death.
They sing in the Trades: Victoria, thou shalt be king Oh Cruz!
Jumilla You will save us and offers us a unique moment when we recall the Arrest of Christ, when on the evening of Holy Wednesday, amid the bustle of the passage of the weapon, the Plaza de Arriba is the site of this ancient sacramental drama of Arrest according Jumilla.
Jesus was on, and on that night of Holy Wednesday procession will take place since each of the floats begins the narrative sequence in which the guilds with their images reflected the last moments of Jesus among his people.
Christ is no longer free.
He is a prisoner of those who failed to understand his message, his legacy was none other than that we love as he did.
Each temple contains inside a monument, open the tabernacles in the nearby waiting for Easter.
Fraternities and sororities, with banners in front, recall the ancient custom of visiting the monuments.
Women dress "for my beautiful" as the cortege through the streets to the strains of "Holy Thursday Blankets, Jumilla almost a hymn that he composed many years ago and exceptional musician reminded of this blessed land, Julian Santos.
Dusk on Holy Thursday.
The same day he began to organize the processions of penitents following the preaching of St. Vincent Ferrer.
The day is Jumilla with their history in the oldest of their processions, of Bitterness.
The guilds have her footsteps, to follow the path indicated in the Passion narrative.
There is no rest.
Each other different processions they narrate the Passion from the art of a sculptor who left in Jumilla the imprint of a gift, to touch the wood, the same wood on which Christ was crucified.
Sunrise on Good Friday and their morning Jumilla recalls the way to Calvary, accompanying the penitents of each of the guilds who want to share with Christ his pain.
Mother moves along the way (blood stone dust, crying), and shaking down the path of Jesus Christ sanctified ...
Among the tracks looking for the imprint of those steps which opened rows of divine light as the Martyr, collapsed in agony on the cross and the anguish of so near, Mother cries when he descends from Calvary ...
(Marcos Rafael Blanco Belmonte, Cordovan poet) Time has stopped.
Humanity is in mourning at the death of Christ on Calvary.
The darkness of night, lord of the landscape.
All is solitude and silence.
Mary, struck down by so much pain, he returned to Calvary in the sad morning.
Is Soledad, is the immense emptiness and pain superhuman Holy Mother who has lost the Son on the Cross.
The wind, in his whisper you speak, your yearning to breathe choppy.
Sky, moon and stars, their light put tears crying.
One more year, is busy thinking for ideas when there are flowers, choosing words, when there is wind.
This spring wind and calm, which makes the prayer incense and pray.
What comfort, Holy Virgin, how much beauty!
The meadow, the flowers, the breeze pure crystalline water, shake the dew and freshness What comfort, Madam, God has not failed!
Says that the rose, and poppy, and the wind in his message said, and wept tears with tenderness, and prayer that leans on his lips, and eyes looking at you straight.
Again emotion.
Again the voice, bolt ...
Prayer.
Again the teacher Piñana: art, emotion and devotion.
This year, in which commemorates Jumilla six centuries since Easter into the streets from inside the temples, the evening of Good Friday will host a unique courtship: the "Procession Antigua."
In it, rememoraréis around the images they cherish most veteran guilds and temples, the old flavor of Jumilla and that it was possible that he is today.
In an Easter that shaped today unparalleled reality you offer to locals and visitors.
Easter is now required reading for understanding Jumilla, to share the passion and devotion of its inhabitants.
The extraordinary work of the Central Board of Fraternities and each of the fraternities that compose it can not be condensed into just a few days, in which elapse between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Having lived as a child the intricacies of nazarenía taught me to perceive the work and concern extends to every day of the year, then just close the door of a church and we hear the last echo of a procession, and is working on a new Easter.
We must restore this or that improve the estate with the acquisition of new embroidery or jewelry items, renew a throne, a costume ... and must be achieved through selfless contributions and efforts of the brothers, to meet the costs of the procession, a task usually is not easy.
But also the lives of the brotherhoods extends throughout the year in worship to the Holders, in the very important and not always known you develop social work in the many facets that you are doing and now culminating in a procession in those who have put together in this effort and sacrifice, all harbor the illusion that your hearts.
And in this special year for you, in which six hundred years of history celebrating the evening of Holy Saturday will host the Great Burial of the translation in thirty-five paces of what is the passion and death of Christ according to Jumilla.
Twenty sculptors, seventy images, the efforts of thousands of Jumillano made procession.
The work of those now ostentáis responsibility of wearing the dress of each guild, and also that of all Jumillano that over these six centuries they once did.
The Great Burial will give us all, plus the unique opportunity to revive, to step out of the throne, the great love of God for men, the true meaning of what we celebrate each Easter and culminating in Sunday morning Easter.
Easter proclamation, as I said at the beginning of these words, an honor that I can now share a feeling so deep that it is very difficult to condense into a verb.
Proclaim, in 1996 Carlos Valcarcel said, my father, "is to open the door to a new spring that comes after a year away aches and pains."
Because in this place in Spain, in our beloved region of Murcia, nothing is more spring to identify the presence on the streets of the Nazarenes, of the brothers, whom we share an ancestral heritage that in many cases, is lost the darkness of history: to celebrate the Holy Week procession.
Jumilla, educated and proud of its history, retains the original track.
Know the source, has studied and extolled when commemorates six centuries of Passion.
And it shows a wisdom and strength that will surely take time this message to future generations of Jumillano, which will continue your example, as you do you do with your predecessors.
You are repositories of ancient tradition, of extraordinary wealth of art, but especially in the feeling.
This is the main legacy from each guild can now offer, and the pride of which can boast.
This is the work that each day of the year you bring to practice, men and women who integráis Penitential Brotherhood of the Holy Christ of Life, the Brotherhood of the Samaritan, the Brotherhood of Pain First, the Brotherhood of the Holy side of Christ, the Confraternity of the Agony in the Garden, the Brotherhood of the Kiss of Judas, the Royal Brotherhood of Jesus on and the Blessed Virgin of Mercy, the Brotherhood of the Scroll, the Brotherhood of Jesus before Herod, the Brotherhood of St. John the Apostle, Brotherhood St Mary Magdalene, the Brotherhood of the Holy Christ at the Column, the Brotherhood of the Holy Christ of the Judgement, the Brotherhood of the Holy Christ of the Fall, the Royal Brotherhood of Jesus of Nazareth, the Brotherhood of the Holy Christ of Health, the Brotherhood Vera Cruz and the Holy Sepulchre, Brotherhood of Our Lady of Soledad, the Brotherhood of Our Father Jesus of Redemption and the Guardian Brotherhood of Body of Christ.
The auctioneer will have to remain silent and to speak your heart.
But let me remind you that before something: Fifteen years ago you named Carlos Valcárcel Mavor preacher, my father.
Proclamation that ended with a prayer of verses, which he dedicated to the Christ and Virgin of the Holy Week of Jumilla.
Mine are also permitídmelo those words I feel like her: "It hurts your pain and your bitterness, I weigh your sadness and your agony, it hurts me not to mourn with those who cry and it hurts me not to laugh to laugh.
It is silent air breeze and tears.
Your breath is the wax that is going to light your way through the streets, the sky is trembling blanket of stars that are crying.
These are tears that man, sir, is denied. "Thanks.
Source: CARM
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