L'Eglise Aristotelicienne Romaine The Roman and Aristotelic Church

[Kalixtus]

iiDDD




During the Easter Vigil, the Paschal fire burned near the obelisk. As one approached the dome, the central axis of Aristotle's Square was adorned with a multitude of splendidly blooming flowers, arranged into intricate geometric patterns. Here, everything bore witness to magnificent beauty and dignified elegance, merging seamlessly with the surrounding architecture.

The morning of the Feast of Renewal was dedicated to the enthronement of new cardinals; and now, by late morning, attention would turn to the grand pontifical Mass for the Feast of Renewal. How lovely that the day felt almost like early summer, with the sun shining down from a clear blue sky, bathing the basilica in light.

Inside, there was bustling activity. Guests were arriving, filling the nave. Acolytes and clergy moved about everywhere, for this event was one of the high points of the liturgical year.

After the morning ceremony, there was a brief pause, and Kalixtus used the moment to smoke a pipe in the shadow of the columns. He watched the doves flying over the square. White as snow — they could have been his, had he not long since turned to white falcons. Still, a beautiful sight. In the distance, he saw the remnants of the Easter fire, its ashes being removed by workers. Everything in Rome followed a familiar rhythm — a movement like breathing in and out. As it had for many centuries.

Once the bells would begin to ring, the programme would continue.



Pendant la Veillée Pascale, le feu pascal brûlait près de l’obélisque. En approchant du dôme, on découvrait que l’axe central de la Place d’Aristote était orné d’une profusion de fleurs éclatantes, disposées en motifs géométriques d’une grande finesse. Tout ici témoignait d’une beauté majestueuse et d’une élégance digne, qui se fondait harmonieusement dans l’architecture environnante.

Le matin de la Fête du Renouveau était consacré à l’intronisation de nouveaux cardinaux ; et maintenant, en fin de matinée, l’on s’apprêtait à célébrer la grande messe pontificale du jour. Quel bonheur que cette journée eût des allures de début d’été, avec un soleil éclatant dans un ciel d’un bleu pur, illuminant la basilique.

À l’intérieur, l’agitation régnait. Les invités arrivaient, emplissant la nef. Partout circulaient acolytes et clercs, car cet événement comptait parmi les grands moments de l’année liturgique.

Après la cérémonie du matin, une brève pause fut accordée, que Kalixtus mit à profit pour fumer sa pipe à l’ombre des colonnes. Il observait les colombes qui volaient au-dessus de la place. Blanches comme neige — elles auraient pu être les siennes, s’il n’avait depuis longtemps adopté les faucons blancs. Une belle image, néanmoins. Au loin, il aperçut les restes du feu pascal, dont les cendres étaient en train d’être balayées par des ouvriers. À Rome, tout suivait un mouvement immuable. Un rythme qui rappelait l’inspiration et l’expiration. Depuis de nombreux siècles déjà.

Dès que les cloches commenceraient à sonner, le programme reprendrait son cours.

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[Filomena]

While the night had been short, it left no trace upon her countenance, which appeared as untouched by time as fresh morning dew, glistening in competition with the sun's first light.

Today was Easter, the feast of renewal. And while the previous evening had been spent in celebration of the night—of the final day of fasting, wherein darkness is vanquished and light ascends victorious over the firmament and thus the world—she now wore white instead of black. Tight-fitting, as ever. Her body appeared, as it often did, like a canvas awaiting the touch of her own imagination. In this case, it was golden lines that wound artistically around her form, accentuating those parts which, in her view, served as the most impressive symbols of her feminine authority.

Her ample chest was adorned on this festive day by a rich, golden necklace that sparkled in the morning light, set with splendid rubies. Matching earrings hung from her earlobes and swayed gently with each graceful step she took across the marble floor of the basilica, the sound of her white suede stilettos echoing through the grandest of all churches. A recent gift from her brother.

A white ermine cloak lay loosely across her shoulders—her preferred choice. The day would surely not remain cool, but the morning still was, and she had been driven here from the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj.

Her white-blond hair was gathered into a knot, into which a golden hairpin had been worked, along with the deep bloom of a dark red rose. She wore the same perfume as the evening before—hyacinth, black rose, and patchouli. Her lips were painted in a shade to match the flower, a striking contrast to her jade-blue eyes, which now took in the overflowing splendor of the basilica.

She did not appear out of place here. That was owed to her presence and to the manner of her entrance, imbued as it was with power and awareness of her own stature. Still, before the sacred majesty of this place, one could only kneel. In the face of spiritual might, even Filomena was small—and this particular diminishment she bore well. It was the one she granted and to which she willingly submitted.

Conscientiously, she knelt before the majesty of God, before His altar and the authority of the Church, before she would rise again from this gesture of reverence and seek a seat to attend the Easter Mass—celebrated by the Pope himself.

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[Aerwan]

Le jeune évêque de Vannes avait fait le voyage jusqu'à la capitale Romaine afin de pouvoir participer aux festivités de Pâques. Le trajet avait été un peu long lui rappelant les nombreux voyages jusqu'aux terres de son père en Empire. Les voyages réguliers qu'il entreprenait pour faire son devoir de préfet ne l'avait jamais ennuyé bien au contraire.

Il avait pour habitude de s'arrêter en route dans quelques tavernes ici et là. Son dernier voyage avant d'être intronisé évêque avait été jusqu'en Berry pour aider sa soeur.

Le prélat avait revêtu sa plus belle tenue d'officiant afin de pouvoir participer à la messe et surtout aider son Eminence Kalixtus qui avait demandé de l'aide pour celle-ci.

C'est donc tout naturellement qu'il avait pris le chemin de la Basilique Saint Titus pour l'occasion apercevant déjà une foule qui se pressait pour assister à cette messe.


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The young bishop of Vannes had travelled to the Roman capital to take part in the Easter festivities. The journey had been a little long, reminding him of the many journeys to his father's lands in the Empire. The regular journeys he undertook to carry out his duties as Prefect never bored him, on the contrary.

He used to stop off at a few taverns along the way. His last trip before being enthroned bishop had been to Berry to help his sister.

The prelate had put on his best officiant's habit so as to be able to take part in the mass and above all help his Eminence Kalixtus, who had asked for help with the mass.

So it was only natural that he should make his way to the Basilica of Saint Titus for the occasion, already spotting a crowd rushing to attend the mass.
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Vice Primat de Bretagne
Évêque de Vannes
Préfet de l’enseignement Aristotélicien
Professeur au Séminaire Pontifical Francophone

"L'important n'est pas d'être meilleur que les autres mais bien d'être meilleur que l'on pouvait l'être hier"

[Ettore_Asburgo_D'Argovia]

After the Vigil, the Venetian Cardinal allowed himself a brief rest before presiding over the grand celebration of Mass in the most illustrious basilica of Rome. Now, he would have slept through the day had he not prepared an alarm with deliberate intensity.

Following a frugal breakfast, the morning ablutions, and a double measure of invigorating coffee, Father Ettore stood ready to make his solemn entrance, accompanied by his brothers and sisters of the College of Cardinals.
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+ Ettore Asburgo D'Argovia
Cardinale-Presbitero di San Barnaba a Ripa
Decano del Tribunale della Rota Romana
Arcivescovo Metropolitano di Udine
Professore alla Pontifica Universitas Studiorum Aristoteliorum
Ufficiale dell'Ordine pontificio di Nicola V

[Ferreiramelo]

Com um sorriso sereno, Ferreira Melo observou a transformação da praça. As flores, em padrões intrincados, saudavam a manhã da renovação com uma beleza que elevava a alma. A luz do sol, quase estival, banhava a basílica, infundindo o dia com uma alegria palpável.

O burburinho dos convidados enchia a nave, um coro silencioso de expectativa. Ferreira Melo acompanhava os movimentos dos acólitos e do clero, sentindo a solenidade do momento. A breve pausa permitiu-lhe observar os pombos brancos a pairar sobre a praça, mensageiros de paz num dia de celebração.

O eco distante do fogo pascal, agora em cinzas, lembrava a jornada da escuridão para a luz. Roma pulsava, num ritmo ancestral de fé e tradição. Com o soar dos sinos, Ferreira Melo preparou o seu coração para a grandiosa missa pontifical, um culminar da promessa da Páscoa.

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With a serene smile, Ferreira Melo observed the transformation of the square. The flowers, in intricate patterns, greeted the morning of renewal with a beauty that uplifted the soul. The sunlight, almost summery, bathed the basilica, infusing the day with a palpable joy.

The murmur of the arriving guests filled the nave, a silent chorus of anticipation. Ferreira Melo followed the movements of the acolytes and clergy, feeling the solemnity of the moment. The brief pause allowed him to watch the white doves soar above the square, messengers of peace on a day of celebration.

The distant echo of the Paschal fire, now in ashes, recalled the journey from darkness to light. Rome pulsed, in an ancient rhythm of faith and tradition. As the bells began to ring, Ferreira Melo prepared his heart for the grand pontifical Mass, a culmination of the promise of Easter.
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[Puta_z_ryzmberka]

He stood once more by the column, on the edge of the square, just as he had the night before. The silence that had wrapped around him then still lingered within — like the embers of the Easter fire, not yet cold.

The basilica was slowly filling. Voices gathered, soft and layered, and though the bells had not yet begun to ring, it felt as if the very air waited for their call. Půta waited too. Not from hesitation, but from reverence. He considered the right moment.

Then, quietly, he moved. Joining one of the groups of worshippers, he slipped inside. He did not seek the front. He did not seek eyes. He simply wished to be present. In silence. In light. In faith.

[Pie de Valence]

Après un bref repos dans sa modeste demeure des faubourgs, le cardinal regagna la basilique afin d’assister à la suite des cérémonies et à l’homélie solennelle du Saint-Père, célébrant ainsi avec ferveur les fêtes de l’année 1473.

Dehors, dans l’avant-cour qui se transformait en un vaste cloître improvisé, la foule se pressait dans une cohue indescriptible. À chaque instant, le service d’ordre, confronté à un flux humain tumultueux, devait allier fermeté et tact, usant tantôt de la rigueur de l’épée, tantôt de gestes robustes pour garantir le passage digne des membres du clergé et des dignitaires.

Au loin, l’ombre imposante du campanile découpait une silhouette majestueuse sur l’horizon, tandis que, non loin de là, l’obélisque – vestige des ruines du grand cirque jadis édifié par Néron – se dressait comme un mémorial silencieux d’un passé révolu. Ces monuments, autant de rappels de la grandeur antique mêlée aux modernités naissantes, semblaient dialoguer avec le présent, insufflant à la cérémonie une profondeur historique incomparable.

Le cardinal, observant ce contraste vibrant entre l’ordre sacré et l’agitation de la vie romaine, se sentait à la fois humble devant la majesté des lieux et porteur d’une mission symbolique. Chaque pierre, chaque murmure et chaque écho de la Rome éternelle, où le divin se mêle inextricablement aux aspirations humaines. Dans cette atmosphère chargée de ferveur et d’histoire, il comprit que ce moment offrait une communion unique entre le passé glorieux et l’espérance d’un renouveau spirituel.

Ainsi s’inscrivait, dans le tumulte de la ville et la solennité des rites, une page nouvelle d’une longue tradition où la foi, la mémoire et l’action humaine se rencontraient pour tisser le destin d’une aristotélité en pleine transformation.

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After a brief rest in his modest suburban dwelling, the cardinal returned to the basilica to attend the continuation of the ceremonies and the Holy Father's solemn homily, thus fervently celebrating the festivities of the year 1473.

Outside, in the courtyard that was transforming into an expansive makeshift cloister, the crowd pressed together in an indescribable tumult. At every moment, the security forces, confronted with a surging flow of people, had to combine firmness with tact, sometimes resorting to the unsparing rigour of the sword and at other times employing robust measures to ensure the dignified passage of the clergy and dignitaries.

In the distance, the imposing shadow of the campanile carved a majestic silhouette against the horizon, while not far away the obelisk—a relic from the ruins of the great circus once erected by Nero—rose as a silent memorial to a bygone era. These monuments, each evoking the grandeur of antiquity intertwined with emerging modernities, seemed to converse with the present, imbuing the ceremony with an unparalleled historical depth.

Observing this vibrant contrast between sacred order and the bustling life of Rome, the cardinal felt both humbled by the majestic surroundings and emboldened by a symbolic mission. Every stone, every whisper, and every echo from eternal Rome—where the divine is inextricably interwoven with human aspirations—spoke to him. In this atmosphere charged with fervour and history, he understood that the moment offered a unique communion between a glorious past and the hope for spiritual renewal.

Thus, amidst the city’s tumult and the solemnity of the rites, a new chapter was inscribed in a long tradition where faith, memory, and human endeavour converged to weave the destiny of an aristotelic order in full transformation.
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Dopo un breve riposo nella sua modesta dimora dei sobborghi, il cardinale ritornò alla basilica per assistere al prosieguo delle cerimonie e all'omelia solenne del Santo Padre, celebrando così con fervore le festività dell'anno 1473.

All'esterno, nel cortile che si stava trasformando in un vasto chiostro improvvisato, la folla si accalcava in una confusione indescrivibile. In ogni istante, il servizio d'ordine, confrontato con un flusso umano tumultuoso, doveva coniugare fermezza e tatto, ricorrendo talvolta al rigore della spada e altre volte a gesti decisi per garantire il passaggio dignitoso ai membri del clero e ai dignitari.

In lontananza, l'imponente ombra del campanile tracciava una silhouette maestosa sull'orizzonte, mentre, non lontano da lì, l'obelisco – vestigio delle rovine del grande circo un tempo edificato da Nerone – si ergeva come un memoriale silenzioso di un passato ormai remoto. Questi monumenti, tanti richiami alla grandezza dell'antichità fusa con le modernità in nascita, sembravano dialogare con il presente, infondendo alla cerimonia una profondità storica impareggiabile.

Il cardinale, osservando questo contrasto vibrante tra l'ordine sacro e l'agitazione della vita romana, si sentiva al contempo umile di fronte alla maestosità dei luoghi e portatore di una missione simbolica. Ogni pietra, ogni mormorio e ogni eco della Roma eterna – dove il divino si intreccia inestricabilmente con le aspirazioni umane – parlava di una storia millenaria. In quest'atmosfera carica di fervore e di storia, egli comprese che quel momento offriva una comunione unica tra un glorioso passato e la speranza di un rinnovamento spirituale.
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"Le modernisme n'est ni une dérive, ni une horreur, ni une maladie honteuse. C'est le terreau de la rénovation de l'Eglise, la terreur des conservateurs, l'air pur qui vivifiera la foi" (Pie II de Valence)
"On n'est jamais dans le mensonge quand on prêche la paix et l'apaisement, toujours quand on prêche la haine d'autrui" (Pie II de Valence)

[Talitasx]

Talita walked slowly, with measured steps, as one who knows she treads upon sacred ground. The morning breeze gently stirred her chestnut hair, tied back with modesty. In the palm of her hand, the small prayer book — worn by time — felt lighter than ever. Before her, the square blossomed like a promised garden: petals arranged into sacred mandalas, while the obelisk cast a long shadow over the last traces of the Paschal fire.

She paused. Breathed deeply. Let the moment pass through her. There was something in the air — perhaps the memory of heaven’s fragrance, or perhaps just the quiet certainty of being exactly where she was meant to be. She remembered what she had read so many times in the sacred texts: “Friendship is the virtue that draws man closer to God.” And in that moment, she felt close.

Upon entering the basilica, she was met by the majestic silence of the space. Light from the stained glass windows poured onto the marble floor, and the scent of incense hung like an invisible veil. Talita knelt. No words escaped her lips — only a breath, almost a stifled sob, though without sorrow. It was the weight of faith, and at once, its lightness.

There, among the ancient columns and the first sounds of sacred chant, she offered her soul in silence. She thought of Carreiro, the small tomb of memories she carried within. But she also thought of life. Of the hope that never dies. Of the promise of renewal.

In her silent prayer, she asked not for miracles, but for courage. Not for answers, but for presence. That she might continue walking, steady in virtue, as the apostles and saints had taught. As Kyrene had lived. As Titus had died.

[Garsande.Lucile]

As the golden morning light flooded Aristotle's square, a springtime sweetness enveloped the basilica. The bells rang out, signaling the approach of the grand pontifical mass. At the moment the first echoes of the bells rose into the air, she advanced gracefully, her dress adorned with delicate shimmering embroidery in the sunlight. A crown of fresh flowers, carefully woven, crowned her head, adding a touch of freshness and beauty to her appearance. After a night of Easter vigil, Garsande's face radiated a soothing serenity. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and devotion, reflecting the emotion that filled her.

As she entered the basilica, she took a moment to embrace the magnificence of the building with her gaze. The floral patterns adorning the central axis of the square made her smile, reminding her of the beauty of love and rebirth celebrated on this day.

Crossing the nave, she greeted a few familiar faces, sharing smiles and wishes of peace. The joyful bustle of the ongoing ceremony surrounded her, with acolytes busying themselves around the altar, preparing the final details for the grand pontifical mass. The murmurs and laughter of the guests created a warm atmosphere, and Garsande allowed herself to be carried away by the festive spirit.

Arriving near the altar, she took her place among the other faithful, her heart beating with excitement. The bells continued to ring, and the music of the choirs rose, filling the space with sacred melodies. While preparing for the celebration, she couldn't help but think about the significance of this day, about the beauty of the renewal it represented.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath of the air infused with flowers and prayers, then focused on the present moment. Garsande was ready to unite with the community in this sacred celebration, sharing in the joys of renewal and the message of hope that she embodied.
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Alors que la lumière dorée du matin inondait la place d'Aristote, une douceur printanière enveloppait la basilique. Les cloches résonnaient, signalant l'approche de la grande messe pontificale. Au moment où les premiers échos des cloches s'élevèrent dans l'air, Elle s’avançait avec grâce, sa robe ornée de délicates broderies scintillantes à la lumière du soleil. Une couronne de fleurs fraîches, soigneusement tressée, couronnait sa tête, ajoutant une touche de fraîcheur et de beauté à son apparence. Après une nuit de veillée pascale, le visage de Garsande rayonnait d’une sérénité apaisante. Ses yeux brillaient d’enthousiasme et de dévotion, témoignant de l’émotion qui l’habitait. En entrant dans la basilique, elle prit un moment pour embrasser du regard la magnificence de l’édifice. Les motifs floraux ornant l’axe central de la place lui firent sourire, rappelant la beauté de l'amour et de la renaissance célébrés en ce jour.

En traversant la nef, elle salua quelques visages familiers, partageant des sourires et des vœux de paix. L’agitation joyeuse de la cérémonie en cours l’entourait, les acolytes s’affairant autour de l’autel, préparant les derniers détails pour la grande messe pontificale. Les murmures et les rires des invités créaient une ambiance chaleureuse, et Garsande se laissa emporter par l’esprit de la fête.
Arrivée près de l’autel, elle prit place parmi les autres fidèles, le cœur battant d’excitation. Les cloches continuaient de sonner, et la musique des chœurs s’élevait, emplissant l’espace de mélodies sacrées. Tout en se préparant pour la célébration un peu plus tôt elle n'avait pu s’empêcher de penser à la signification de cette journée, à la beauté du renouveau qu'elle représentait.
Elle ferma les yeux un instant, respirant profondément l’air chargé de fleurs et de prières, puis se concentra sur le moment présent. Garsande était prête à s’unir à la communauté dans cette célébration sacrée, partageant les joies du renouveau et le message d’espoir qu’elle incarnait.

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[clemente]

Upon entering the church, a feeling of reverence and humility takes over his heart. It is the first time he participates in a pontifical Mass as a faithful, and everything seems so grand and sacred. He feels a mixture of anxiety and admiration as you observe the details of the altar, the gathered faithful, and the solemnity of the moment. His heart fills with gratitude for being able to witness such an important celebration, which represents the unity of the community and the presence of God among us.

It's as if an inner light is ignited, reminding him of the importance of faith and the role it plays in his vocation. Every prayer, every song makes him reflect on his spiritual journey and the commitment to serve God and others with love and dedication. He is inspired to deepen his faith and to value even more the beauty of the liturgy, which is such a profound expression of our hope and devotion.

Aware that each Mass is an opportunity to strengthen the connection with God and with the community.

[Branwyn]

It was a long night. She had sat and talked with her guardsman long after the Virgil. About all the things that lay ahead of her, about the present and wishes, worries and all the little things that still had to be done.

However, there was no sign of her tiredness. She was too talented to conjure up creams that made her face look fresh and radiant. And so the bishop entered the basilica that morning. She made her way to her seat and observed what was going on around her.
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[Alessandro Della Scala]

Alessandro arrived in Rome after leaving instructions to his diocesan vicar on how to celebrate the Feast of Renewal with the faithful of his diocese, the diocese of Modena.

The air of Rome particularly inspired the monsignor, who rested the night before after the vigil in a lodging near Castel Sant'Angelo.

In the morning he woke up early, washed himself and put on his best clothes.

The sparkle of the episcopal ring was like a lighthouse for the monsignor, it always served to remind him of his dignity as bishop of the Aristotelian Church, his rights and also his duties.

Arriving with his carriage at the Basilica of San Titus, after passing in front of the Roman Museums, of which he was the founder, he took a seat among the pews reserved for the high clergy.
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------------------------------------------------------------------+ Reverend Monsignor Alessandro Della Scala
----------Primate of the Holy Roman Empire | Archbishop of Trier | Archbishop of Modena |

[Adonnis]

The ceremonial sound of the bells of the Basilica of Saint Titus echoed throughout the surroundings, announcing the beginning of the Easter Mass. As people approached the Basilica, they lowered their voices in respect for the silence of the sacred place.

Accompanied by the Marchioness of Vieira de Leiria and the Baroness of San Giorgio di Pesado, the Sagres ascended the steps toward the entrance of the Basilica. Given the immense solemnity, Adonnis wore the crimson cappa magna, its long train gently lifted by a young acolyte. Resting on his shoulders was the scarlet mozzetta, buttoned with precision, a symbol of his cardinal dignity. The white linen rochet, finely embroidered, peeked out from beneath his vestments, contrasting with the vivid crimson of his cardinal robes. Atop his head stood the biretta, while an episcopal ring gleamed on his right hand, crafted in gold and standing in noble contrast to his pectoral cross.

The austerity of his stride concealed his own weariness and reflected the joy and satisfaction of being part of the Roman Community. The Basilica shone, as if lit by God Himself in homage.

Walking down the central aisle, Adonnis made his way to the seats arranged in a semicircle around the confessio, reserved for the Cardinals of the Church, and remained in prayer, awaiting the arrival of the Papal Procession and the beginning of the Ceremony.

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.....Cardinal-Presbyter of Saint Anthony of the Portuguese / Grand Audiencier of the Holy See / General Inquisitor of Portugal
...............Primate of Portugal / Metropolitan Archbishop of Braga / Bishop of Vila Real / Duke of Monte Real

[Francesco_maria]

Cardinal Sforza had taken part in the liturgy of the Feast of Renewal from the beginning together with his brother cardinals and all the Aristotelian people who had come to fill the Basilica.

It had been a long time since they had attended great liturgies and the occasion was formidable, the heart of the cardinal rejoiced during the rite as he joined in the praise of the Most High.
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[Fenice]

It was time to participate in the concelebration of the Solemn Mass for the Feast of the Renewal.
Cardinal Fenice hurried to the sacristies of the Basilica, where she would finish her preparation by putting on her vestments and, as was her custom from the beginning, would pray briefly to ask the Most High for the concentration and the ability to forget herself and to be only the Church's vessel and shepherd for the community of the faithful.
She loved the great feasts and their celebrations, they were moments of great joy and fullness of heart.
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