The earth mourns and dries up,
and the land wastes away and withers.
Even the greatest people on earth waste away.
—Isaiah 24: 4, NLT
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As stipulated in the will, Nabot was given his father's vineyard as his inheritance. He grew up in those vineyards, watching how humble feet pressed the chosen grapes and watched how new batches of wine came to fruition slowly, carefully, and precisely, all in due time. They were renowned in the community for its commitment to quality over quantity —his father always taught him to forget about sales and make wine as if God Himself were to come down from Heaven to take a sip. Of course he had other investments; those he would use for taxation and sacrifices, whichever came first. But his wine was his one true offering, and he would never give up his vineyard for anybody.
So he was more than appalled when his king shamelessly pounced on his inheritance. Yes, he bowed and did every human protocol in order to get on the king's good graces. He was human, after all, and being so dangerously close to the king's view. His father always warned him that the heart is man's worst pollutant, and greed is only but the seed planted to sow evil. The king offered him a myriad of options for that land: money, larger and more productive lands far away from his kingdom, hired hands, women, maybe a life full of earthly graces. He wanted to turn the vineyard into a vegetable garden, in a place where only vines could grow and any perversions of the land would grow fallow! Why would Nabot lose his precious inheritance for the king's selfish whims? Would he tend to the land? Would he care for it like a newborn child? Would he nurse the land back to health when he was sick? Would he offer the fruits of this land to God? He would never have the land that was given to him! "The Lord forbid I give away my inheritance to you!", he said to the king, looking straight in the eye, filled with anger and zeal. And the king left, looking sullen and defeated. But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.' —Luke 18: 13, NIV The Pharisee rose from his chair and placed himself on the center pulpit. It was his Sabbath, his turn to speak. But before he would enlighten his willing congregation, he would utter a very peculiar prayer. The man was loved by everybody, even if his standards for holiness were crushingly high. So he would never invite any blind or crippled worshiper to his place of honor so they can appreciate the service better; but everybody understood that everything had to be perfect for Yahweh. And women could only be placed outside or in a separate room away from her husbands, but everybody understood since their ungodly figures would distract his —oh, he meant, the men's gazes away from Yahweh. Yes— his actions made sense in the eyes of the Lord, as he was to maintain the Glory close to the people's hearts.
He started: "Thank You, for I am not like the other people around me: liars, beggars, thieves, scoundrels, fornicators, or even tax collectors. I fast twice a week —especially during those horrible market days—, I pray three times a day with the window open so the nation can see an example of Your love, I tithe everything I have and I carefully calculate it so I never fall broke, and I teach my people how to be decent and holy human beings... unlike that tax collector sitting in the farthest pew, looking at the floor as he ponders Your judgment upon him." This prayer moved the church. They wept. They sang. They took his words as a badge of honor. But then came the tax collector, the thief, the liar, the scoundrel, the traitor. He was beaten by a zealot because he taxed too much oil and grain from his family's precious crops. Some widow spat at him for repossessing her home due to her late husband's lack of payments. In his command, he was the most efficient tax collector the Empire has ever seen...at the cost of his family's respect and his nation's dignity. But he was human, yes —he was completely human, and he still had a bit of humanity left. He still cries for what he does. He hated it at first. But then he liked it... he liked it too much. If only someone like God would help him through this mess! "Father", said the tax collector while he beat his breast, "I know You must hate me. I know You may want to kill me. Everybody hates me. And they are right! It may be too late for them to forgive me or to bring them back everything I pried from their hands. But please, forgive me! Have mercy on ME!" And as he left the temple, he smiled once again, as he never did in a long time. En este corazón caben los sueños desterrados:
los yertos y cansados, los que cedió a la patiña del cobre. Aquí se rompen las quijadas y cruzan las piernas. Aquí nacen a los extraños en un niño de once varas. Aquí guardo mis errores, escondidos al resto del mundo, atribulados en cinceles viejos para el resto del mundo. Yace el pterodáctilo con la sábila. Yace el huerto con la arena. Yace el nido entre un sebo de cizaña. Yace el coctel de pastillas de media mañana. Yace la lúcida águila entrerrecortada en su alba. Yace el dominio de las fuerzas motoras. Yace el oscuro del silencio en plata y eneldos de cobre. Yace el brote de decepción que supura el alba. Yace el brote de imperfección que llega hacia el alma. En este corazón se alivian los místicos enterrados: los que destierran de los pueblos por mirar las bolas de cristal, los que recitan poemas de forma paralela y no transversal, los que hieden su hiel a la arena y no al mar, los buscan sin saber qué quieren buscar. Bienvenidos sean todos a éste corazón, mi humilde hogar-- pero abran paso y hagan fila, que por ahí viene Dios. You keep him in perfect peace —Isaiah 26:3, ESV Now Joseph gave these instructions to the steward of his house: “Fill the men’s sacks with as much food as they can carry, and put each man’s silver in the mouth of his sack. Then put my cup, the silver one, in the mouth of the youngest one’s sack, along with the silver for his grain. —Genesis 44:1 & 2, NIV When Jacob learned that there was grain in Egypt, he said to his sons, “Why do you just keep looking at each other?” He continued, “I have heard that there is grain in Egypt. Go down there and buy some for us, so that we may live and not die.” —Genesis 42:1&2, NIV |
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