Iuramentum Bellatoris Et Ardor Cordis
Commit to defending the vision and relevance of the work you represent, to maintain the strength of your message as the world shifts its sights.
In the middle of that hot afternoon, the scribe caught sight of something that the ordinary eye would have missed: a living fire, growing from nothing, untouched by wood, untouched by wind. It seemed as if the sky itself had broken its silence in the middle of the desert. And his footsteps, like unturned echoes of destiny, carried him towards it. As he approached, the flames shaped themselves into the figure at the center of a fairy tale legend: a warrior, clothed in centuries, standing motionless before shadows shrouded in an ancient secret. It was the secret of knowledge, that invisible seal that could save the world from the enslavement woven by those who believe that power belongs to them.
Or, perhaps, this burning secret, this core of revelation, was a knot of unseen threats and answers? Suddenly, a stone collapsed before it touched the warrior's chest, as if an unseen hand had stopped it. Then, a huge snake emerged from the sand, like a messenger of the earth, and the wind itself, blind and furious, struck those who came too close. This vision seemed more and more vivid, but at the same time unnatural, frigid quodam tremore per eam decurrente, videbatur. Immediately, the scribe wondered: was it coincidence or a secret order of the world? In the burning silence, so dense that it took his breath away, he felt that every moment was connected to a divine promise. In essence, the danger is never greater than the unseen force that supports your steps.
He did not expect what followed. A loud and resounding voice was born from the flames, not like a harsh noise, but like an ancient memory, woven from a forgotten covenant: "He who defends the truth is protected by My hand. And he who wishes you harm will not escape misfortunes and will die by the sword."
The fire spoke the words as if it had carved them into the scribe's soul, according to his own oath. It was a sigillum veritatis, a seal of his destiny, a privileged sign that God lends only for a moment to him who, without any detour, manages to face the truth in all its light and shadow.
How do you interpret your horizon when the visual composition of the world seems like a scene where the contrast between light and shadow pulsates like the echo of a single being?
Beyond the image, the warrior transformed into a living parable, which the consuming vision, already quite disturbing, seemed to seal in eternity. His enemies, ravaged by terrible fates, no longer seemed just persecutors, but symbols of the blindness, of the wandering, of the despair that haunts those who want to prevent the dawn of light in the world, by raising a false shadow of truth. But all of them disregarded their end, just as they disregarded the power of the scribe to change the world through burning words, coming from unseen sources, but invested with the force to penetrate any darkness. Like the words in the Book of Job: "The wicked do not see their end, and their way is broken in the shadow."
It was as if that fiery scene, a vision full of divine thrill, had translated into living images what the scripture weaves into words.
- I understood that this path was not only for the warrior, but for anyone who carries a forbidden light, the scribe said to himself with a strength hidden in silence. I wonder: how many have felt the invisible guidance of a divine hand when the world was against them? How many have felt the wrath of an unseen force descending upon them, destructive like lightning? At the same time, how many have not let themselves be deceived in the net of appearances, which not even darkness can hide from a vigilant scribe? After all, faith is not only a refuge, but a shield against those who want to swallow the light.
The desert had become a silent amphitheater. The sand burned under his feet, but his heart felt something else—a living heat, not like a conflagration but like a silent burning: Astherssum, a rare word he heard within himself rather than uttered. Within him was the unseen force of determination to defend knowledge, and divine signs always came to his aid, at every step, sometimes just before evil bared its fangs.
How far can you visually experience freedom when your shield is a belief transformed into a plastic expression of light?
In the film "Lust for Life" (1956), Vincent van Gogh, under the tumultuous night sky, paints "Starry Night" as a vow to defend the light of divine knowledge, even as the darkness of his mind threatens to overwhelm him. Each flicker of color is an unspoken prayer, a small flame that proves that truth exists, reflecting his sacred commitment to the essence of creation. The desert of the fields of Saint-Rémy becomes the silent witness of his covenant. Through this creation, Van Gogh manifests the unwavering courage to protect the light, guided by a divine protection.
The warrior's oath became the echo of Van Gogh's oath, crossing time and touching the hearts of those who seek the truth. And the scribe understood better than anyone that, beyond the line of the visible, the seed of the eternal is hidden: that the light of a new world, the light of true Christian science, cannot be buried, but only awaits its right moment to be reborn. It was not a question of a fight for glory, but of a sacred commitment: to defend knowledge, that invisible network that unites the minds of all times, confident that divine protection will accompany him like a shadow in the light, like a living color in the fabric of the starry night. Not infrequently he felt how the image of the sacred flame was extinguished, but not the message : "The light does not perish, even if the world sinks into darkness, forgetting its beginnings."
The desert seemed more alive, more full, like a silent witness to the covenant. Perhaps every grain of sand hid a story, perhaps every breeze held an unspoken prayer, and the only color that could beautify the desolate horizon was that reflected by a painter in a painting of the soul. Faith is like a small flame in the middle of a storm: it does not burn to show itself, but to prove that it exists. For this reason, the scribe knew that everything he wrote and left behind was meant to last, and his purpose was to keep the light of great knowledge alive, even when the world was sinking into darkness.
True faith is manifested in the determination to protect the light, even when darkness seems to swallow the whole world. Leadership is an act of service, not a crown of power.
Iuramentum Bellatoris et Ardor Cordis remains a silent covenant for me, for it reminds me that loyalty to the light is stronger than the fear of the dark. But just as the scribe learned that afternoon that true victory is not won with weapons, but with the power to remain upright in the face of any trial, so I have come to understand that he who carries the light never walks alone, even if his path is guarded by shadows. And always, he who defends the faith through the service of great knowledge will be the one for whom the signs will come without delay, protecting him from any danger.
Only the words of William from "The Name of the Rose" remain, so telling for the scribal conscience: "He who spoke of the Antichrist discerned his signs in the corruption of the world and in the distortion of wisdom. But he taught us that there is only one way to take action when he comes: to study the secrets of nature, to use the sciences to improve the human species. We can prepare to fight against the Antichrist only by researching the healing virtues of herbs, the nature of stones, and even by designing flying machines."
Soon, science will replace the falsehood, greed, and tyranny of those who kept the world in darkness. And this is because a single scribe, with the power that faith gave him, moved the unseen joints of the world in the direction of light and truth.
