I was happy to join Rabbi Claudio Kogan last week for a joint moment of reflection at the Mayor's Prayer Luncheon in the City of McAllen. We each chose a Scriptural text, and offered a brief comment about it. I presented what appears immediately below. I am also adding to this post a reflection I wrote some little time ago in Spanish. It is sort of a dialogue with the text of a poem that appears in the Liturgy of the Hours. The poem itself appears in bold-type, and is variously attributed to Anonymous or to Gabriela Mistral.
(Luke 10: 25 ff.)
There was a scholar of the law* who stood up to test him and said, “Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” Jesus said to him, “What is written in the law? How do you read it?” He said in reply, “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” He replied to him, “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live.” But because he wished to justify himself, he said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
With this brief passage, the Gospel of Luke prepares us to hear the parable of the Good Samaritan, familiar to most of the world as the story of the man who went out of his way to help an abandoned and wounded stranger.
The question "who is my neighbor?" provokes the occasion of the Parable, and implies a disquiet of conscience present in the man asking the question.
This question is propelled by the same unease of conscience that provoked Cain in the book of Genesis to ask the Lord God: "Am I my brothers keeper?"
The parable is itself a definitive response to both questions: The person in need whom God puts in the path of my life, such a one is brother and neighbor to me.
The question cannot fail to arise in a religious context, but it cannot be confined to a religious setting. "Who is my neighbor?" impacts all of our social, economic and political relations.
How you and I attend to this question affects the whole of the unfolding of human history lived here in the Rio Grande Valley. And by our response to this question shall be judged the quality of our love for the Lord God Himself.
+++
Meditación sobre el Himno del Breviario, "En esta tarde", Las Visperas de un viernes
En esta tarde, Cristo del Calvario,
vine a rogarte por mi carne enferma;
pero, al verte, mis ojos van y vienen
de tu cuerpo a mi cuerpo con vergüenza.
Ojos vagando
En su cansancio corrido
Buscan en vano
Lo que sabe de sentido
Carne y hueso llegaste
Verbo malherido
A mi muerte vida
Tocando mi sentido
¿Cómo quejarme de mis pies cansados,
cuando veo los tuyos destrozados?
¿Cómo mostrarte mis manos vacías,
cuando las tuyas están llenas de heridas?
En tu forma tosca
Su proporción suprimida
Intuyo mi alma
Sin sentir la herida
No alcanzo vergüenza
Por lo que al verte deriva
Vacías mejores
Que con mala intriga
¿Cómo explicarte a ti mi soledad,
cuando en la cruz alzado y solo estás?
¿Cómo explicarte que no tengo amor,
cuando tienes rasgado el corazón?
Explicar no puedo
Lo que palabra requiere
Sólo anhelar un aire
Que de mi no viene
Explicar no logro
De tu amor rasgado
Sólo pido inhalar
Lo que tú has dado
Ahora ya no me acuerdo de nada,
huyeron de mí todas mis dolencias.
El ímpetu del ruego que traía
se me ahoga en la boca pedigüeña.
En vano aspiro
Moldear palabra
Respuesta hueca
De la mente calada
El olvido sana
Si por fin recuerdo
Que no por nada
Me llamaste enfermo
Y sólo pido no pedirte nada,
estar aquí, junto a tu imagen muerta,
ir aprendiendo que el dolor es sólo
la llave santa de tu santa puerta. Amén.
Nada con todo
Y en todo nada
Amor tan duro
En ninguno y cada
Quizás me adelanto
Pidiéndote nada
Si decides tocarme
Sería mejor con fuego y espada. Amén
No comments:
Post a Comment