This might read like “too much” for some people, but it is inspired by the Biblical Book of Esther (4, 29-42).
Dante Alighieri wrote the classic poem, The Divine Comedy. In the part known as the Inferno, Dante and his guide Virgil, on their way to Hell, pass by a group of dead souls outside the entrance to Hell. These individuals, when alive, remained neutral at a time of great moral decision. Virgil explains to Dante that these souls cannot enter either Heaven or Hell because they did not choose one side or another. They are therefore worse than the greatest sinners in Hell because they are repugnant to both God and Satan alike, and have been left to mourn their fate as insignificant beings, neither hailed nor cursed in life or death, endlessly travailing below Heaven, but outside of Hell.
Queen Esther, by contrast, uttered a prayer for her people and God’s response was to save them from mortal danger. Because her people’s future was in crisis, Esther had to risk going to the king on their behalf, which she knew could cost her her life, yet to do nothing but hide behind her privileged place, while her people were destroyed, would leave her haunted with guilt all her days. Esther prayed: “My Lord, our King, you alone are God. Help me, who am alone and have no help but you.”
How many of us choose to remain neutral at times of great (or even not-so-great) moral decision? How many of us are inclined to simply turn a blind eye when a risky action is called for? Might this Lenten season be offering us a chance to pray like we have never prayed before?
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Uno de nuestros problemas es que algunas veces nos complacemos y nos felicitamos por lo buenos que somos. Sin embargo, la Cuaresma se nos llama a vivir más profundamente el Evangelio, para que sea realmente Buena Noticia para nosotros y para los hermanos y las hermanas en derredor nuestro.
La práctica Cuaresmal, la oración, por ejemplo, da a conocer toda la riqueza de la bondad de Dios para con nosotros. Dios no puede rechazarnos cuando nos volvemos con confianza a Él desde nuestra miseria humana, desde nuestras necesidades, también desde nuestras alegrías, incluso desde nuestro silencio cuando no sabemos qué decir. Pero la razón última de su generosidad no es tanto lo que le pedimos, sino su bondad. Él es bueno – goza dando, y dándose. Da con alegría. Y da siempre más de lo que se le pide.