<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:36:18.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aconteceu</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-1206570984992310066</id><published>2011-06-27T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T19:41:08.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonata ao Luar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; História narrada pelo músico Henrique Baldovino:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4FNBViKnaHI/Tgk-eXp3_7I/AAAAAAAAAy0/WI7WAQT1DXE/s1600/slide0018_image010.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4FNBViKnaHI/Tgk-eXp3_7I/AAAAAAAAAy0/WI7WAQT1DXE/s320/slide0018_image010.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Quem de nós não teve um momento de extrema dor?&lt;br /&gt;Quem nunca sentiu, em algum momento da vida, vontade de desistir?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Quem ainda não se sentiu só, extremamente só, e teve a sensação de ter&amp;nbsp;perdido o endereço da esperança?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Nem mesmo as pessoas famosas, ricas, importantes, estão isentas de terem&amp;nbsp;seus momentos de solidão e de profunda amargura...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Foi o que ocorreu com um dos mais reconhecidos compositores de todos os&amp;nbsp;tempos, chamado Ludwig Van Beethoven, que nasceu no ano de 1770, em Bonn,&amp;nbsp;na Alemanha, e faleceu em 1827, em Viena, na Áustria...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oNLaYGQT45o/Tgk8pwLSryI/AAAAAAAAAyw/9DwxpNXOX4U/s1600/slide0019_image012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" i$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oNLaYGQT45o/Tgk8pwLSryI/AAAAAAAAAyw/9DwxpNXOX4U/s200/slide0019_image012.jpg" width="170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Beethoven vivia um desses dias tristes, sem brilho e sem luz. Estava muito&amp;nbsp;abatido pelo falecimento de um príncipe da Alemanha, que era como um pai&amp;nbsp;para ele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;O jovem compositor sofria de grande carência afetiva. O pai era um&amp;nbsp;alcoólatra contumaz e o agredia fisicamente. Faleceu na rua por causa do&amp;nbsp;alcoolismo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Sua mãe morreu muito jovem. Seu irmão biológico nunca o ajudou em nada e,&amp;nbsp;some-se a tudo isto, o fato de sua doença agravar-se. Sintomas de surdez&amp;nbsp;começavam a perturbá-lo, ao ponto de deixá-lo nervoso e irritado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Beethoven somente podia escutar usando uma espécie de trombone acústico no ouvido. Ele carregava sempre consigo uma tábua ou um caderno, para que as pessoas&amp;nbsp;escrevessem suas idéias e pudessem se comunicar, mas elas não tinham&amp;nbsp;paciência para isto, nem para ler seus lábios...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Notando que ninguém o entendia, nem o queriam ajudar, Beethoven se retraiu e se&amp;nbsp;isolou. Por isso conquistou a fama de misantropo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Foi por todas essas razões, que o compositor caiu em profunda depressão. Chegou a redigir um testamento, dizendo que iria se suicidar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mas como nenhum filho de Deus está esquecido, vem a ajuda espiritual, através&amp;nbsp;de uma moça cega, que morava na mesma pensão pobre, para onde Beethoven havia se mudado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;b&gt;e lhe fala quase gritando:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;“Eu daria tudo para enxergar uma Noite de Luar”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nemvYKgeRsk/Tgk51npz0MI/AAAAAAAAAys/2Do8bYRCt6w/s1600/slide0017_image042.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" i$="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nemvYKgeRsk/Tgk51npz0MI/AAAAAAAAAys/2Do8bYRCt6w/s320/slide0017_image042.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ao ouvi-la, Beethoven se emociona e vai às lágrimas. Afinal, ele podia ver! Ele podia escrever sua arte nas pautas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;A vontade de viver volta-lhe renovada e ele compõe uma das músicas mais&amp;nbsp; belas da humanidade: “Sonata ao Luar” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;No seu tema, a melodia imita os passos vagarosos de algumas pessoas, possivelmente, os dele e os dos outros, que levavam o caixão mortuário do&amp;nbsp;príncipe, seu protetor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Olhando para o céu prateado de luar, e lembrando da moça cega, como a&amp;nbsp;perguntar o porquê da morte daquele mecenas tão querido, ele se deixa&amp;nbsp;mergulhar num momento de profunda meditação transcendental...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Alguns estudiosos de música dizem que as três notas que se repetem, insistentemente, no tema principal do 1º movimento da Sonata, são as três&amp;nbsp;letras da palavra “&lt;i&gt;por quê&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;b&gt;”? ou outra palavra sinônima, em alemão...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Anos depois de ter superado o sofrimento, viria o incomparável Hino à&amp;nbsp;Alegria, da 9ª sinfonia, que coroa a missão desse notável compositor, já&amp;nbsp;totalmente surdo.Hino à Alegria expressa a sua gratidão à vida e a Deus, por não haver se suicidado... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Tudo graças àquela moça cega, que lhe inspirou o desejo de traduzir, em notas musicais, uma noite de luar... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Usando sua sensibilidade, Beethoven retratou, através da melodia, a beleza de&amp;nbsp;uma noite banhada pelas claridades da lua, para alguém que não podia ver com&amp;nbsp;os olhos físicos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O5wLSOVN6Qg/Tgk5qMxjgcI/AAAAAAAAAyo/eUFwaDjf7JU/s1600/slide0013_image007.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" i$="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O5wLSOVN6Qg/Tgk5qMxjgcI/AAAAAAAAAyo/eUFwaDjf7JU/s320/slide0013_image007.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-1206570984992310066?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/1206570984992310066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/1206570984992310066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2011/06/sonata-ao-luar.html' title='Sonata ao Luar'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4FNBViKnaHI/Tgk-eXp3_7I/AAAAAAAAAy0/WI7WAQT1DXE/s72-c/slide0018_image010.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-9120776669559106833</id><published>2011-04-24T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T04:55:33.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frei Betto: APENAS OBSERVANDO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="mso-cellspacing: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"&gt;&lt;td style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: #ece9d8; border-left: #ece9d8; border-right: #ece9d8; border-top: #ece9d8; padding-bottom: 0cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;" valign="top"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="mso-cellspacing: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"&gt;&lt;td style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: #ece9d8; border-left: #ece9d8; border-right: #ece9d8; border-top: #ece9d8; padding-bottom: 0cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;" valign="top"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="mso-cellspacing: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 438px;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"&gt;&lt;td style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: #ece9d8; border-left: #ece9d8; border-right: #ece9d8; border-top: #ece9d8; padding-bottom: 0cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;" valign="top"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QlBNpt6Q5XA/TbQMNGif6fI/AAAAAAAAAuk/m2IuSXgNRwM/s1600/20090907080649-frei-betto-small-.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QlBNpt6Q5XA/TbQMNGif6fI/AAAAAAAAAuk/m2IuSXgNRwM/s200/20090907080649-frei-betto-small-.png" width="164" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;Ao viajar pelo Oriente, mantive contatos com monges do Tibete, da Mongólia, do &amp;nbsp;Japão e da China. Eram homens serenos, comedidos, recolhidos e em paz nos seus mantos cor de açafrão.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Outro dia, eu observava o movimento do aeroporto de São Paulo: a sala de espera cheia de executivos com telefones celulares, preocupados, ansiosos, geralmente comendo mais do que deviam. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Com certeza, já haviam tomado café da manhã em casa, mas como a companhia aérea oferecia um outro café, todos comiam vorazmente. Aquilo me fez refletir: "Qual dos dois modelos produz felicidade?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Estamos construindo super-homens e super &amp;nbsp;mulheres, totalmente equipados, mas emocionalmente &amp;nbsp;infantilizados.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Uma progressista cidade do interior de São Paulo tinha, em 1960, seis livrarias e uma academia de ginástica; hoje, tem sessenta academias de ginástica e três livrarias!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Não tenho nada contra malhar o corpo, mas me preocupo com a desproporção em relação à malhação do espírito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Acho ótimo, vamos todos morrer esbeltos: "Como estava o defunto?". "Olha, uma maravilha, não tinha uma celulite!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A&amp;nbsp;publicidade não consegue vender felicidade, então passa a ilusão de que felicidade é o resultado da soma de prazeres: "Se tomar este refrigerante, vestir este &amp;nbsp;tênis, &amp;nbsp;usar esta camisa, comprar este carro,você chega lá!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uBLHptTUGU0/TbQMq-16k9I/AAAAAAAAAus/ac4T3KBTNX8/s1600/frei.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="113" i8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uBLHptTUGU0/TbQMq-16k9I/AAAAAAAAAus/ac4T3KBTNX8/s200/frei.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; O grande desafio é começar a ver o quanto é bom ser livre de todo o condicionamento&amp;nbsp;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Há uma lógica religiosa no consumismo pós-moderno. Na Idade Média, as cidades adquiriam status construindo uma catedral; hoje, constrói-se um shopping-center. É curioso: a maioria dos shoppings-centers tem linhas arquitetônicas de catedrais estilizadas; neles não se pode ir de qualquer maneira, é preciso vestir roupa de missa de domingo. E ali dentro sente-se uma sensação paradisíaca: não há mendigos, crianças de rua, sujeira pelas calçadas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Entra-se naqueles claustros ao som do gregoriano pós-moderno, aquela musiquinha de esperar dentista.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Observam-se os vários nichos, todas aquelas capelas com os veneráveis objetos de consumo, acolitados por belas sacerdotisas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp13WQGqOy4/TbQNUKWodmI/AAAAAAAAAuw/vfismqKO0Cw/s1600/untitled.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp13WQGqOy4/TbQNUKWodmI/AAAAAAAAAuw/vfismqKO0Cw/s200/untitled.bmp" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quem pode comprar à vista, sente-se no reino dos céus. Deve-se passar cheque pré-datado, pagar a crédito, &amp;nbsp;entrar no cheque especial, sente-se no purgatório. Mas se não pode comprar, certamente vai se sentir no inferno... Felizmente, terminam todos na eucaristia pós-moderna, irmanados na mesma mesa, com o mesmo suco e o mesmo hambúrguer do Mc Donald... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Costumo advertir os balconistas que me cercam à porta das lojas:&amp;nbsp; "Estou apenas fazendo um passeio socrático". Diante de seus olhares espantados, explico: "Sócrates, filósofo grego, também gostava de descansar a cabeça percorrendo o centro comercial de Atenas. Quando vendedores como vocês o assediavam, ele respondia: "Estou apenas observando quanta coisa existe de que não preciso para ser feliz !"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ch1TZZoWU3c/TbQMaEDSKwI/AAAAAAAAAuo/-E0QYONi6qs/s1600/frei_site2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" i8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ch1TZZoWU3c/TbQMaEDSKwI/AAAAAAAAAuo/-E0QYONi6qs/s200/frei_site2.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;FREI BETTO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;( Frei Betto é escritor, frade dominicano e assessor de movimentos sociais )&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-9120776669559106833?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/9120776669559106833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/9120776669559106833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2011/04/frei-betto-apenas-observando.html' title='Frei Betto: APENAS OBSERVANDO...'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QlBNpt6Q5XA/TbQMNGif6fI/AAAAAAAAAuk/m2IuSXgNRwM/s72-c/20090907080649-frei-betto-small-.png' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-6393301941287356257</id><published>2011-01-20T02:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T02:33:44.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Acima da Vaidade humana, a Decência!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" height="240" src="http://www.cnews.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Dom-Manuel-Edmilson-Cruz-e1292958858632.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 18pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoNormalTable" style="mso-cellspacing: 0cm; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 0cm 0cm; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr style="mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"&gt;&lt;td style="background-color: transparent; border-bottom: #ece9d8; border-left: #ece9d8; border-right: #ece9d8; border-top: #ece9d8; padding-bottom: 0cm; padding-left: 0cm; padding-right: 0cm; padding-top: 0cm;" valign="top"&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Precisamos de mais gente assim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Bispo recusa comenda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Bispo recusa comenda e impõe constrangimento ao Senado Federal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Num plenário esvaziado, apenas com alguns parlamentares, parentes e amigos do homenageado, o bispo cearense de Limoeiro do Norte, dom Manuel Edmilson Cruz impôs um espetacular constrangimento ao Senado Federal, ontem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Dom Manuel chegou a receber a placa de referência da Comenda dos Direitos Humanos Dom Hélder Câmara, das mãos do senador Inácio Arruda (PCdoB/CE). Mas, ao discursar, ele recusou a homenagem&amp;nbsp; em protesto ao reajuste de 61,8% concedidos pelos próprios deputados e senadores aos seus salários.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 110%; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;“A comenda hoje outorgada não representa a pessoa do cearense maior que foi dom Hélder Câmara. Desfigura-a, porém. De seguro, sem ressentimentos e agindo por amor e com respeito a todos os senhores e senhoras, pelos quais oro todos os dias, só me resta uma atitude: recusá-la”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 110%; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;O público aplaudiu a decisão. O bispo destacou que a realidade da população mais carente, obrigada a enfrentar filas nos hospitais da rede pública, contrasta com a confortável situação salarial dos parlamentares. E acrescentou que o aumento &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;“é um atentado, uma afronta ao povo brasileiro, ao cidadão contribuinte para bem de todos com o suor de seu rosto e a dignidade de seu trabalho”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 110%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto; tab-stops: center 413.15pt left 699.05pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-family: &amp;quot;Viner Hand ITC&amp;quot;; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"&gt;Parabens Dom Manuel!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-6393301941287356257?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/6393301941287356257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/6393301941287356257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2011/01/acima-da-vaidade-humana-decencia.html' title='Acima da Vaidade humana, a Decência!!!'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-6298051027305920418</id><published>2010-11-11T05:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T05:07:20.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O livro da capa preta...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; Um senhor de 70 anos viajava de trem, tendo ao seu lado um jovem universitário, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TNvqT3MmGEI/AAAAAAAAAlI/gWa98_QaUhs/s1600/biblia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TNvqT3MmGEI/AAAAAAAAAlI/gWa98_QaUhs/s200/biblia.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;que lia o seu livro de ciências .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;O senhor, por sua vez, lia um livro de capa preta. Foi quando o jovem percebeu que se tratava da Bíblia e estava &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;aberta no livro de Marcos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sem muita cerimônia o jovem interrompeu a leitura do velho e perguntou: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;O senhor ainda acredita neste livro cheio de fábulas e crendices?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Sim, mas não é um livro de crendices. É a Palavra de Deus. Estou errado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 6pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;Respondeu o jovem:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;- Mas é claro que está ! Creio que o senhor deveria estudar a Historia Universal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;Veria que a Revolução Francesa, ocorrida há mais de 100 anos, mostrou a miopia da religião.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;Somente pessoas sem cultura ainda crêem que Deus tenha criado o mundo em seis dias.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;O senhor deveria conhecer um pouco mais sobre o que os nossos cientistas pensam&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;e dizem sobre tudo isso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;É mesmo? Disse o senhor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;E o que pensam e dizem os nossos cientistas sobre a Bíblia? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;- Bem, respondeu o universitário, como vou descer na próxima estação, falta-me tempo agora, mas deixe o seu cartão que lhe enviarei o material pelo correio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;com a máxima urgência .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;O velho então, cuidadosamente, abriu o bolso interno do paletó e deu o seu cartão ao universitário. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;Quando o jovem leu o que estava escrito, saiu cabisbaixo sentindo-se pior que uma ameba.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;No cartão estava escrito:&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;Professor Doutor Louis Pasteur, Diretor Geral do Instituto de Pesquisas Cientificas da Universidade Nacional da França. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; tab-stops: list 36.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-list: Ignore;"&gt;-&lt;span style="font: 7pt &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"&gt;“Um pouco de ciências nos afasta de Deus. Muito, nos aproxima“.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TNvpKlHB0oI/AAAAAAAAAlE/CE9PS08g_cY/s1600/biblia02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" px="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TNvpKlHB0oI/AAAAAAAAAlE/CE9PS08g_cY/s200/biblia02.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Fato verdadeiro, integrante da biografia ocorrido em 1892.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-6298051027305920418?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/6298051027305920418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/6298051027305920418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/11/o-livro-da-capa-preta.html' title='O livro da capa preta...'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TNvqT3MmGEI/AAAAAAAAAlI/gWa98_QaUhs/s72-c/biblia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-6999064799398263260</id><published>2010-10-18T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T12:44:20.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deus existe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Alemanha &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Início do século 20&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyh7CCIsII/AAAAAAAAAiA/nj96Iq14Z4k/s1600/para+o+site2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="136" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyh7CCIsII/AAAAAAAAAiA/nj96Iq14Z4k/s200/para+o+site2.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Durante uma conferência com vários universitários, um professor da Universidade de Berlim...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;…desafiou seus alunos com esta pergunta: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;“Deus criou tudo o que existe?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Um aluno respondeu valentemente:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Sim, Ele criou…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O professor respondeu, “Se Deus criou tudo, então Deus fez o mal? Pois o mal existe, e partindo do preceito de que nossas obras são um reflexo de nós mesmos, então Deus é mau?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyiMuN4EwI/AAAAAAAAAiE/YM23r9aa6xQ/s1600/Para+o+site.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="136" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyiMuN4EwI/AAAAAAAAAiE/YM23r9aa6xQ/s200/Para+o+site.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;O jovem ficou calado diante de tal resposta e o professor, feliz, se regozijava de ter provado mais uma vez que a fé era um mito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Outro estudante levantou a mão e disse: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Posso fazer uma pergunta, professor? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Lógico, foi a resposta do professor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O jovem ficou de pé e perguntou: professor, o frio existe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;Que pergunta é essa? Lógico que existe, ou por acaso você nunca sentiu frio?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;O rapaz respondeu:" De fato, senhor, o frio não existe. Segundo as leis da Física, o que consideramos frio, na realidade é a ausência de calor. Todo corpo ou objeto é suscetível de estudo quando possui ou transmite energia, o calor é o que faz com que este corpo tenha ou transmita energia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-TRAD" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O zero absoluto é a ausência total e absoluta de calor, todos os corpos ficam inertes, incapazes de reagir, mas o frio não existe. Nós criamos essa definição para descrever como nos sentimos se não temos calor" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;E, existe a escuridão? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Continuou o estudante. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O professor respondeu: Existe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O estudante respondeu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Novamente comete um erro, senhor, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;a escuridão também não existe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;A escuridão na realidade é a ausência de luz“&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;A luz pode-se estudar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;a escuridão não!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Até existe o prisma de Nichols &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;para decompor a luz branca nas &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;várias cores de que está composta,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;com suas diferentes longitudes de ondas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;A escuridão não!&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Um simples raio de luz atravessa as trevas e ilumina a superfície onde termina o raio de luz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Como pode saber quão escuro está um espaço determinado? Com base na quantidade de luz presente nesse espaço, não é assim?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Escuridão é uma definição que o homem desenvolveu para descrever o que acontece quando não há luz presente”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Finalmente, o jovem perguntou ao professor: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Senhor, o mal existe? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O professor respondeu: Claro que sim, lógico que existe, como disse desde o começo, vemos estupros, crimes e violência no mundo todo, essas coisas são do mal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;E o estudante respondeu: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;O mal não existe, senhor, pelo menos não existe por si mesmo. O mal é simplesmente a ausência do bem, é o mesmo dos casos anteriores, o mal é uma definição que o homem criou para descrever a ausência de Deus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyiciIkh_I/AAAAAAAAAiI/sPy-71iqmT4/s1600/Albert+Einstein.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="129" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyiciIkh_I/AAAAAAAAAiI/sPy-71iqmT4/s200/Albert+Einstein.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Deus não criou o mal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Não é como a fé ou como o amor, que existem como existem o calor e a luz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;O mal é o resultado da humanidade não ter Deus presente em seus corações. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;É como acontece com o frio quando não há calor, ou a escuridão quando não há luz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;Por volta dos anos 1900, este jovem foi aplaudido de pé, e o professor apenas balançou a cabeça &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;permanecendo calado…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Imediatamente o diretor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;dirigiu-se àquele jovem e perguntou &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;qual era seu nome?&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: ES-VE; mso-bidi-font-family: +mn-cs; mso-fareast-font-family: +mn-ea; mso-font-kerning: 12.0pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;E ele respondeu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;ALBERT&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;EINSTEIN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-VE" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-VE;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-6999064799398263260?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/6999064799398263260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/6999064799398263260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/10/deus-existe.html' title='Deus existe?'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLyh7CCIsII/AAAAAAAAAiA/nj96Iq14Z4k/s72-c/para+o+site2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-2210964193692731829</id><published>2010-10-15T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T09:16:51.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Anjo de Hamburgo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Uma certa Aracy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLh6l1rxTJI/AAAAAAAAAhg/CiLvQ_cDAN0/s1600/Aracy2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLh6l1rxTJI/AAAAAAAAAhg/CiLvQ_cDAN0/s200/Aracy2.JPG" width="163" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ela, uma paranaense de Rio Negro foi morar com uma tia na Alemanha, após a sua separação matrimonial.Por dominar o idioma alemão&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;e francês, fácil lhe foi conseguir uma nomeação para o consulado brasileiro em Hamburgo. Acabou sendo encarregada da seção de vistos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;No ano de 1938, entrou em vigor, no Brasil a célebre Circular 1.127, que restringia a entrada de judeus no nosso país. É aí que se revela o coração humanitário de Aracy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Ela resolveu ignorar a circular que proibia a concessão de vistos a judeus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Por sua conta e riscos, à revelia das ordens do Itamaraty, continuou a preparar os processos de vistos a judeus. Como despachava com o Cônsul geral, ela colocava os vistos entre a papelada para as assinaturas. Quantas vidas terá salvo das garras nazistas! Quantos descendentes de judeus andarão pelo nosso país, na atualidade,desconhecedores de que devem a vida a essa extraordinária mulher?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; O cônsul adjunto à época, seu futuro marido, João Guimarães Rosa, não era responsável pelos vistos. Mas sabia o que ela fazia e a apoiava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; Eles se conheceram em Hamburgo, na Alemanha às vésperas das segunda Guerra mundial. Ele, menino pobre, viu na carreira diplomática uma maneira de conhecer o mundo. Em 1938, prestou o concurso para o Itamaraty e foi nomeado&amp;nbsp;cônsul adjunto na Alemanha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; Em Jerusalém, Israel, no Museu do Holocausto, há uma placa em homenagem a essa excepcional brasileira. Fica no bosque que tem o nome de&lt;em&gt; Jardim dos Justos entre as nações.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;﻿ &lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLh7h9PwpDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/VsXKPZYU1T0/s1600/Aracy1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLh7h9PwpDI/AAAAAAAAAhk/VsXKPZYU1T0/s200/Aracy1.JPG" width="136" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Quando homenageada em Jerusalém&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿ &lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; O nome dela consta na lista de 18 diplomatas que ajudaram a salvar judeus, durante a Segunda Guerra. Aracy de Carvalho Guimarães Rosa, é a única mulher. Mas seu denodo, sua coragem não pararam aí. Em 1985, em sua última viagem ao exterior, em Jerusalém, em Keren Kayemet&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;foi homenageada com o seu nome dado a um bosque, que ela mesmo inaugurou com um discurso. Em Washington também mais uma homenagem no Museu do Holocausto. No Brasil… Nada. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Dona Aracy como era chamada, salvou judeus na Alemanha nazista, enfrentou as leis anti-semitas do Estado Novo, e ainda escondeu perseguidos políticos, como intelectuais, compositores, cantores e artistas, entre eles Geraldo Vandré, durante a ditadura militar brasileira. Enfrentou, portanto, nada menos que três regimes autoritários, conhecidos por sua violência inclemente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Reservada, Aracy enviuvou em 1967 e jamais voltou a se casar. Recusou-se a viver da gloria de ter sido a mulher de um dos maiores escritores de todos os tempos. Em verdade ela tem suas próprias realizações para celebrar.&amp;nbsp;Em 2008 fez 100 anos. Pouco se recorda desse passado, cheio de coragem, aventura, determinação, romance, literatura e solidariedade.Mas sua história, e seus feitos merecem ser lidos por todos, ensinados nas escolas. Nossas crianças, os cidadãos do Brasil &lt;em&gt;necessitam de tais modelos para os dias que vivemos&lt;/em&gt;. Aracy desafiou o nazismo, o Estado Novo de Getúlio Vargas e a ditadura militar dos anos 60. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Uma mulher que merece nossas homenagens, uma heroína. Uma verdadeira &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;cidadã do mundo.!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-2210964193692731829?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/2210964193692731829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/2210964193692731829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/10/o-anjo-de-hamburgo.html' title='O Anjo de Hamburgo'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TLh6l1rxTJI/AAAAAAAAAhg/CiLvQ_cDAN0/s72-c/Aracy2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-5035949664892039848</id><published>2010-09-15T16:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T16:40:02.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Bispo de todos...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;﻿&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TJFXdDGEdiI/AAAAAAAAAYA/BeW3vQ6DGjE/s1600/dom-helder-camara_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" qx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TJFXdDGEdiI/AAAAAAAAAYA/BeW3vQ6DGjE/s200/dom-helder-camara_01.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 116.55pt 10pt 78pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 116.55pt 10pt 78pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 116.55pt 10pt 78pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 116.55pt 10pt 78pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 116.55pt 10pt 78pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Pequeno, franzino, transfigurava-se ao falar.Aos gestos das mãos acrescentava o brilho do olhar e a determinação e ênfase na voz,numa linguagem simples e accessível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TJFXscXoU4I/AAAAAAAAAYI/9pfQWVCYEmM/s1600/dom+helder+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" qx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TJFXscXoU4I/AAAAAAAAAYI/9pfQWVCYEmM/s200/dom+helder+1.jpg" width="169" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Um fato que traduz bem quem era D. Hélder: aconteceu onde morava, nos fundos da sacristia de uma igreja em Recife, no bairro da Boa Vista. Alta madrugada, um barulho na porta e um homem se apresenta diante dele. D. Hélder o acolhe e o faz sentar sem saber o porquê de sua visita àquela hora tão tardia… O estranho fala, fala e de repente desabafa, chorando: “-Me mandaram aqui foi para lhe matar. Perdoe-me…” D. Hélder o abraça, o tranqüiliza e depois de lhe servir um lanche, chama um táxi (que do “Dom, como assim é chamado, nada cobra) o abençoa e o manda para casa…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Verdana&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 8.5pt;"&gt;Dom Helder chegou ao Recife no período da Ditadura Militar e militou em favor de perseguidos e presos políticos. Uma de suas principais causas era combater a fome, a miséria e a injustiça. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-5035949664892039848?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/5035949664892039848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/5035949664892039848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/09/o-bispo-de-todos_15.html' title='O Bispo de todos...'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TJFXdDGEdiI/AAAAAAAAAYA/BeW3vQ6DGjE/s72-c/dom-helder-camara_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-8976345928009837340</id><published>2010-09-13T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T08:32:36.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O nº 16 670</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TI480Lw9ZVI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Y9JZHkWpMmc/s320/Padre-Kolbe-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Era este o número de P.Maximiliano Kolbe, franciscano polonês aprisionado pela Gestapo em fevereiro de 1941 e levado para o campo de concentração de Auschwitz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Em fins de julho desse ano, do bloco 14 em que ele se encontrava, fugiu um prisioneiro. Era &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;costume que a punição fosse a condenação à morte de dez prisioneiros no “buncker “(prisão celular subterrânea) da fome”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Fritsch, o comandante, escolheu aqueles que deviam morrer:entre eles Franz Gajowniczek que casado e com filhos, começou a chorar. Nesse momento, todos viram, atônitos, um homem sair da fileira dos que tinham sido poupados da morte. Era o nº 16 670, que com passo decidido dirigiu-se ao comandante e pediu para morrer no lugar de Franz. O comandante, perplexo, perguntou quem era ele e o porquê daquele gesto, jamais visto num campo de prisioneiros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “-Sou um padre católico: Já sou velho e para nada mais sirvo. Ele tem mulher e filhos.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;O comandante concordou. Tudo acertado, o sub-comandante cancelou o nº de Franz e escreveu o de frei Kolbe: 16 670. Até então, nenhum homem rebaixado ao nível de simples unidade quantitativa ofereceu tantos títulos de honra ao triunfo da qualidade…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Era o dia 14 de agosto de 1941. Após 21 dias de lenta agonia na fome e na sêde, havia ainda no “bunker” 4 sobreviventes. Só o padre Kolbe se mantinha lúcido, sentado num canto em profunda oração.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;“-Estendeu ele mesmo o braço para a injeção mortal que o médico aplicou, depois de rezar pela ultima vez a Ave Maria” – testemunha mais tarde, Bruno Borgowiec, prisioneiro polonês utilizado como coveiro do“bunker"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Quando morreu em Auschwitz, padre Kolbe tinha 47 anos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TI5BAhK7-HI/AAAAAAAAAWo/oviiLgb0F4o/s1600/Pe+Kolbe.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TI5BAhK7-HI/AAAAAAAAAWo/oviiLgb0F4o/s200/Pe+Kolbe.JPG" width="151" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Trinta e cinco anos mais tarde, Franz Gajowniczek, salvo por Kolbe, assistiu em Roma a sua beatificação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Foi canonizado em 10 de outubro de 1982, como um “Santo do nosso tempo”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;As obras fundadas pelo padre Kolbe, continuam mais vivas que nunca e espalhadas pelo mundo inteiro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt; "Conquistar o mundo inteiro, todas as almas, para Cristo, pela Imaculada, usando todos os meios lícitos, todas as descobertas tecnológicas, especialmente no âmbito das comunicações". &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Era o ideal do Padre Kolbe, o”&lt;strong&gt;Cavaleiro da Imaculada&lt;/strong&gt;”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TI5ACoigjtI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Hfo7sLOZ_oc/s1600/Pe+Kolbe+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TI5ACoigjtI/AAAAAAAAAWg/Hfo7sLOZ_oc/s320/Pe+Kolbe+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-8976345928009837340?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8976345928009837340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8976345928009837340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/09/o-n-16-670.html' title='O nº 16 670'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TI480Lw9ZVI/AAAAAAAAAWY/Y9JZHkWpMmc/s72-c/Padre-Kolbe-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-2975461702188623783</id><published>2010-09-07T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T08:05:27.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sábio Índio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TIZ_Vie2VlI/AAAAAAAAAS4/j8t9A00fb6g/s1600/indio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="153" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TIZ_Vie2VlI/AAAAAAAAAS4/j8t9A00fb6g/s200/indio.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;Assim narra a&amp;nbsp;Fábula :&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;Uma noite, um velho índio Cherokee&amp;nbsp;falou ao seu neto sobre a guerra que acontece dentro &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;das pessoas. Ele disse: 'A batalha é entre dois 'lobos' que vivem dentro de todos nós. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Um é Mau. É a raiva, inveja, ciúme, tristeza, desgosto, cobiça, arrogância, pena de si&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;mesmo, culpa, ressentimento, inferioridade, mentiras, orgulho falso, superioridade e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;ego. O outro é Bom. É alegria, paz, esperança, serenidade, humildade, bondade,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;bevolência, empatia, generosidade, verdade, compaixão e fé.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;........................................................&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TIZ_-r7a3PI/AAAAAAAAATA/PlRYWYhYkxM/s1600/1a1+WOLVES09.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TIZ_-r7a3PI/AAAAAAAAATA/PlRYWYhYkxM/s200/1a1+WOLVES09.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;O neto pensou nessa luta e perguntou ao avô: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Qual lobo vence?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;O velho Cherokee respondeu: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;...&lt;em&gt;Aquele que você alimenta&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-2975461702188623783?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/2975461702188623783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/2975461702188623783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/09/sabio-indio.html' title='Sábio Índio'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TIZ_Vie2VlI/AAAAAAAAAS4/j8t9A00fb6g/s72-c/indio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-8420663813800937280</id><published>2010-08-30T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T07:44:46.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O ateu histórico, o franciscano, Deus e a morte.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THvDXmMyXII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/TQju6AgSXHc/s1600/Darcy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THvDXmMyXII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/TQju6AgSXHc/s200/Darcy.jpg" width="112" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Leonardo Boff - Então eu disse: "Darcy, no pensamento mais originário, contemporâneo, da biologia molecular, no estilo Elya Prigogine, o caos é uma invenção da orbi, a morte é uma invenção da vida, pra vida ser mais complexa, mais alta, e a tendência da vida é buscar a sua perpetuação, a sua imortalidade. Darcy, deixa te dizer como imagino a tua chegada, o teu grande encontro. Não vai ser com Deus Pai, porque pra você Deus tem de ser Mãe, tem de ser mulher... (risos) Então tem de ser Deusa. Imagino assim: que Deus, quando você chega lá em cima, vai dizer com os braços abertos: ‘Darcy, como você custou pra chegar, eu estava com uma saudade louca de você, finalmente você veio, você não queria vir, você teve de vir e agora chegou’. E te abraça e te afaga em seu seio, e te leva de abraço em abraço, de festa em festa...". E ele emendou: "De farra em farra...". (risos) Eu digo: "Darcy, isso será pela eternidade afora". Aí ele parou e me olhou de lado, assim como que interrogando, e disse: "Como gostaria que fosse verdade! Minha mãe morreu cheia de fé e morreu tranqüila, eu invejo você, que é um homem inteligente e de fé. Eu não tenho fé. Como gostaria que fosse verdade". E aí lhe correu uma lágrima e ele ficou silencioso, estremeceu e teve um acesso de diabetes, uma queda muito grande de pressão e tiveram de levá-lo. E terminou assim a conversa. Eu ainda disse antes de ele sair: "Darcy, não se preocupe com a fé, porque Deus não se incomoda com a fé. Pelos critérios de Jesus, quem tem amor tem tudo. Então, quando a gente chega na tarde da vida como você, quem atendeu os famintos como você; crianças abandonadas como você; índios marginalizados como você; negros que você defendeu; as mulheres oprimidas, desde o neolítico ninguém louvou tanto a mulher quanto você – quem fez isso ganha tudo, porque optou pelos últimos, por aqueles que estavam em necessidade. Quem fez isso tem o reino, tem a eternidade, tem Deus. E você só fez isso". Ele respirou e disse: "Puxa, mas tem de ser verdade". Mas não conseguia dar o passo. Acho que não importa dar o passo, acho que ele teve a coerência de vida, que foi carregada de um grande sentido, de uma grande luta generosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;FRAGMENTO DE UMA ENTREVISTA COM LEONARDO BOFF ("Caros Amigos")&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Ary Carlos Moura Cardoso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Publicado no Recanto das Letras em 01/05/2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Código do texto: T1570584&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;João&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-8420663813800937280?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8420663813800937280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8420663813800937280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/08/o-ateu-historico-o-franciscano-deus-e.html' title='O ateu histórico, o franciscano, Deus e a morte.'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THvDXmMyXII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/TQju6AgSXHc/s72-c/Darcy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-3249758738275389988</id><published>2010-08-27T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T10:09:23.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Só mais um passo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THfwyyt3ZwI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vcC6b3nBSqE/s1600/Para+a+pasta+Aconteceu+S%C3%B3+mais+um+passso+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THfwyyt3ZwI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vcC6b3nBSqE/s200/Para+a+pasta+Aconteceu+S%C3%B3+mais+um+passso+1.JPG" width="140" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; “- Os Andes, no inverno, não devolvem os homens…” Mas nós continuávamos a procurar e durante cinco dias seguidos, sobrevoamos aquelas montanhas do fundo da Patagônia, cujos picos se erguiam até sete mil metros. “- É o inverno. Esse companheiro de vocês, se sobreviveu à queda do avião, não sobreviveu à noite…A noite lá em cima, quando passa sobre o homem, transforma-o em gelo”, disseram-nos os oficiais chilenos. Afinal, depois de sete dias, no intervalo de dois vôos, um homem grita: “-Guillaumet está vivo!” Partimos imediatamente.Quarenta minutos depois, chorávamos todos e abraçavamos com alegria o nosso amigo. Ele estava ali, vivo, ressuscitado !... Foi então, Giullaumet, que ainda tonto, você exprimiu, na sua primeira frase inteligível, um admirável orgulho da espécie: -“ O que eu fiz, palavra que nenhum bicho, só um homem, era capaz de fazer…” E você contava:” Caí, o avião capotou…Esperei quarenta horas num buraco que cavei na neve, sob a carlinga do avião.Quando a tempestade amainou, comecei a andar. Andei cinco dias e quatro noites…” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Enquanto falava, eu o imaginava andando, sem um bastão, sem víveres, escalando gargantas de 4500m, sob 40º de frio. Na neve, perde-se o instinto de conservação.Depois de dois, três, quatro dias, tudo o que se deseja é o sono… E você continuava a contar: -“Eu pensava: - minha mulher…Se ela crê que estou vivo, ela crê que estou andando. Se não continuar andando, serei um covarde…Também os amigos, eles crêem que estou andando…” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THfw9r2KRfI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/oRQpWQjnQ80/s1600/S%C3%B3+mais+um+passo2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THfw9r2KRfI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/oRQpWQjnQ80/s200/S%C3%B3+mais+um+passo2.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;( Fato verídico, narrado por Antoine de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Saint-Exupéry no livro “Terra dos homens”)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- adaptação do texto-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-3249758738275389988?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/3249758738275389988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/3249758738275389988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-mais-um-passo.html' title='Só mais um passo...'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THfwyyt3ZwI/AAAAAAAAAJI/vcC6b3nBSqE/s72-c/Para+a+pasta+Aconteceu+S%C3%B3+mais+um+passso+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-8041435083806347946</id><published>2010-08-23T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T09:57:38.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sem etiqueta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THKaQKWpdWI/AAAAAAAAADM/W3B1m-8fmHE/s1600/imagem.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="65" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THKaQKWpdWI/AAAAAAAAADM/W3B1m-8fmHE/s320/imagem.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Aquela poderia ser uma manhã como outra qualquer… Eis que o sujeito desce na estação do Metrô de Nova York, vestindo jeans, camiseta e boné. Encosta-se próximo à entrada. Tira o violino da caixa e começa a tocar com entusiasmo, para a multidão que passa por ali bem na hora do rush matinal. Mesmo assim, durante os 45 minutos que tocou, foi praticamente ignorado pelos passantes. Ninguém sabia, mas o músico era Joshua Bell, um dos maiores violinistas do mundo executando peças musicais consagradas num instrumento raríssimo, um Stradivarius de 1713, estimado em mais de três milhões de dólares.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THKcuGz0eBI/AAAAAAAAADU/KdXmnoX8dgo/s1600/Joshus+Bell.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THKcuGz0eBI/AAAAAAAAADU/KdXmnoX8dgo/s200/Joshus+Bell.JPG" width="191" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Alguns dias antes, Bell havia tocado no Symphony Hall de Boston, onde os melhores lugares custaram a bagatela de mil dólares. A experiência no metrô, gravada em vídeo, mostra homens e mulheres de andar ligeiro, copo de café na mão, celular no ouvido, crachá balançando no pescoço, INDIFERENTES AO SOM DO VIOLINO .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A iniciativa realizada pelo jornal The Washington Post, era de lançar um debate sobre valor, contexto e arte. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A conclusão é de que estamos acostumados a dar valor às coisas quando estão num contexto. Bell no metrô era uma obra de arte sem moldura. Um artefato de luxo sem etiqueta de grife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Uma empresa de cartão de crédito vem investindo,há algum tempo, em propaganda onde, depois de mostrar vários itens, com seus respectivos preços, apresenta uma cena de afeto, de alegria e informa: NÃO TEM PREÇO. E é isso que precisamos aprender a valorizar. Aquilo que não tem preço porque não se compra. A amizade, o amor e a afeição…Não tem preço. Carinho, abraços e beijos… Não tem preço. Raios de sol, gotas de chuva… Não tem preço. O vento que passa, o ar que respiramos… Não tem preço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Tudo isso está ao nosso alcance sem preço, sem patente registrada, sem etiqueta de grife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-8041435083806347946?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8041435083806347946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8041435083806347946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/08/sem-etiqueta.html' title='Sem etiqueta'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/THKaQKWpdWI/AAAAAAAAADM/W3B1m-8fmHE/s72-c/imagem.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6737299517737485310.post-8096275872072881935</id><published>2010-08-20T04:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-22T19:49:24.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breve diálogo entre Dalai Lama e Leonardo Boff</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TG5jZWS1W9I/AAAAAAAAAC0/XHECkcFasLc/s1600/Boff003_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TG5jZWS1W9I/AAAAAAAAAC0/XHECkcFasLc/s200/Boff003_1.jpg" width="131" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Leonardo Boff explica: "No intervalo de uma mesa-redonda sobre religião e paz entre os povos, na qual ambos participávamos, eu, maliciosamente, mas também com interesse teológico, lhe perguntei em meu inglês capenga: - "Santidade, qual é a melhor religião?" Esperava que ele dissesse: "É o budismo tibetano" ou "São as religiões orientais, muito mais antigas do que o cristianismo." O Dalai Lama fez uma pequena pausa, deu um sorriso, me olhou bem nos olhos - o que me desconcertou um pouco, porque eu sabia da malícia contida na pergunta - e afirmou: - "A melhor religião é a que mais te aproxima de Deus. É aquela que te faz melhor." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TG5jgsnSkuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/4y2gsZq_wVY/s1600/Dalai004_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="192" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TG5jgsnSkuI/AAAAAAAAAC8/4y2gsZq_wVY/s200/Dalai004_1.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Trebuchet MS&amp;quot;, sans-serif;"&gt;Para sair da perplexidade diante de tão sábia resposta, voltei a perguntar: - "O que me faz melhor?" Respondeu ele: - "Aquilo que te faz mais compassivo (e aí senti a ressonância tibetana, budista, taoísta de sua resposta), aquilo que te faz mais sensível, mais desapegado, mais amoroso, mais humanitário, mais responsável... A religião que conseguir fazer isso de ti é a melhor religião..." Calei, maravilhado, e até os dias de hoje estou ruminando sua resposta sábia e irrefutável." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6737299517737485310-8096275872072881935?l=ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8096275872072881935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6737299517737485310/posts/default/8096275872072881935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ajaaconteceu.blogspot.com/2010/08/breve-dialogo-entre-falai-lama-e.html' title='Breve diálogo entre Dalai Lama e Leonardo Boff'/><author><name>Grupo Aja</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09756698291900531656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_haB9-TXivGE/TG5jZWS1W9I/AAAAAAAAAC0/XHECkcFasLc/s72-c/Boff003_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
