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I do not know why I have come to mind the memory of something that I expressed in this blog
on Tuesday May 13, 2008. I copy below

Tuesday May 13, 2008

"The extraordinary fact." Manuel García Morente. April 29, 1937


conversion Manuel García Morente, Professor of Ethics at the University of Madrid, and in 1936, dean of the Faculty of Philosophy, became the twentieth century, in a of the most important intellectual and religious world of our country. We have a unique document, as it is the first person narrative of the road that ran up to meet God. The same in September 1940 drafted a comprehensive account of his conversion in the desert a few days of prayer. The manuscript - "sixty dense pages "- it keeps one of his daughters, Maria Josefa, who found among his papers after his death. The only interest that led him to write it was to make it known to her spiritual director at the Seminary of Madrid, José María Garcia Lahiguera.'s intention was to open his soul Morente who knew him and he could focus, overcoming his embarrassment and shame, to tell what happened that night from 29 to 30 April 1937. Before anyone had talked about his conversion in such detail, but above all, of what happened after his conversion, which he calls "extraordinary event". I trust the desire to know your opinion and advice "and not return or even allude to it even with yourself." Neither García Morente, or his spiritual director, as he lived, never taught or discussed in this document, which was not made public until after his death. "I liked the silence," the same Garcia Lahiguera. "He humbly accepted, then pry or indirectly, in my opinion. This is a sacrifice of curiosity and genuine humility! Died, then, without knowing my opinion on the fact the largest of its life". The "extraordinary event" happens in Paris, where García Morente, exiled after the political assassination of a relative. This is a piece of the story:


were radiating French music: end of a symphony, Cesar Frank, then the piano, pour une infante Pavanne deceased, Ravel, then in orchestra, a piece entitled Berlioz L'enfance de Jesus ... When finished, shut the radio not to disturb the peace in a state of delightful music that had engulfed me and my mind began to march, but I could resist them, images of the childhood of our Lord Jesus Christ. Vile in imagination walk from the hand of the Virgin Mary, or sitting on a bench and looking with big eyes astonished to St. Joseph and Mary (...) And so gradually become enlarged in my soul man's vision of Christ nailed to the cross on an eminence overlooking a vast landscape, an endless plain swarming men, women and children, where extended arms of our Lord crucified. And the arms of Christ grew and grew and seemed to embrace all that suffering humanity and cover it with the immensity of his love. And the cross went up, went up to heaven and filled the area around and behind it rose too many ... Rose all, no one left behind, just me, stuck in the ground away at the top saw Christ surrounded by the endless swarm of those who went with him ...

I doubt that this kind of vision was not product of imagination excited by the sweet music of Berlioz and penetrating, but he had an explosive effect on my soul that is God, that is the true God , the living God, this is Providence alive, I told myself. That is the God who understands men living with men who suffer with them, comforts them, that gives encouragement and brings salvation. If God had not come into the world, if God had not made flesh in the world, man would have no salvation because between God and man would always be an infinite distance that he could never cross man ... But the distance between my poor humanity and God theoretical philosophy I had been impassable, too far, too alien, too abstract, too geometric and inhuman. But Christ, God made man, Christ suffering like me more than me, much more than me, that yes I understand it and that yes I understand. In that yes I can give my will filial whole life behind. In that yes I can ask, because I know for certain that knows what to ask and I know for a fact that gives and will always, as a whole has given us men. To pray, pray! And his knees began to babble the Lord's Prayer and horror! Don José María, I forgot!

knelt mind giving me a great time our Lord Jesus Christ with the words that occurred to me good. I remembered my childhood, I remembered my mother whom I lost when I was nine years old, I pictured her face clearly, the lap that I laid still on his knees to pray with her. Slowly, patiently I remember bits of the Father, some occurred to me in French, but reinstating faithfully translate the English text. After an hour of effort I managed to restore intact the sacred text, and wrote in a notebook. Also I reset the Hail Mary. But here I could not pass. The Creed I completely resisted, and the Salve and my Lord Jesus Christ. I had to be content with the Our Father I read in my paper, not daring to trust in a memory so hard restored and the Hail Mary I repeated many times until the two sentences were to me perfectly and recorded in memory. A great peace had taken hold of my soul ...

wall in her little clock rang twelve o'clock. The night was calm and very clear. In my soul extraordinary peace reigned. Here is a place in my memories as thorough. I must have fallen asleep. My memory picks up the thread of events in the time under the impression I woke with a start inexplicable. I can not say exactly what he felt: fear, anxiety, apprehension, confusion, feeling of something huge, formidable, indescribable, it would happen right now, at this very moment, without delay. I stood around shivering and opened wide the window. A breath of fresh air struck my face. I turned my face into the room and I was petrified. There was him I did not see, not hear, I did not touch him, but he was there.

In the room there was more light than a light bulb of these tiny, one or two candles, in a corner. I saw nothing, heard nothing, did not touch anything, I had no sensation, but he was there. I remained motionless, stiff with emotion. And I felt. Feel his presence with the same clarity with which I perceive the paper I'm writing, and letters, black on white, I'm drawing, but I had no feeling or sight or hearing, or touch, or smell, or taste. However, we sensed there with complete clarity, and could not fit me no doubt it was him, because he sensed even without sensation. How is this possible? I do not know, but I know he was there this and that I do not see or hear or smell, or taste, or touch anything, I perceived with absolute and unquestionable evidence. If I shows that it was he or I was delirious, I will have nothing to answer to the show, but as soon as memory is the memory upgrade will arise in me the unshakable conviction that it was him, because I've seen.

I do not know how long I remained motionless, as if hypnotized at their presence. I do know that I dared not move and that he wished that all this - him there - will last forever, because their presence so overwhelmed me and so intimate joy that nothing compares to the joy I felt superhuman. It was like a suspension of everything in the body weight. When did he stay in there? Nor do I know. Done. She vanished. A split second before he was there, and I perceived, and I was flooded with superhuman joy that I said. A split second later, he was not there. There was no one in the room, I was already heavily weigh on the ground and felt my limbs m holding force by the natural effort of the muscles.


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