Dear Jose,
when we see that the Legion is helping the Vatican
host a conference on business and ethics
while it is still being cleaned up by the Vatican;
when he remember how Marcial Maciel got off scot free
during the 80 years of his earthly life
while the watchmen where neglecting their duty;
when the Representatives of Christ have never formally apologized
to the victims for this miscarriage of justice;
when we hear that no "compensation" has been given to Maciel's victims
-indeed the very word has been excluded from discussion!-
and other Legionaries' sexual abuse victims go ignored,
Let us find solace in prayer -
if that sweet embrace
has not been lost to soul violence!
Let us find help in friends,
in the silent company of human culture,
in the sweetness of a sonata,
in the rapture of awakening dawn
and in the healing balm of poetry:
The Fisherman
by William Butler Yeats
Although I can see him still.
The freckled man who goes
To a grey place on a hill
In grey Connemara clothes
At dawn to cast his flies,
It's long since I began
To call up to the eyes
This wise and simple man.
All day I'd looked in the face
What I had hoped 'twould be
To write for my own race
And the reality;
The living men that I hate,
The dead man that I loved,
The craven man in his seat,
The insolent unreproved,
And no knave brought to book
Who has won a drunken cheer,
The witty man and his joke
Aimed at the commonest ear,
The clever man who cries
The catch-cries of the clown,
The beating down of the wise
And great Art beaten down.
Maybe a twelvemonth since
Suddenly I began,
In scorn of this audience,
Imagining a man,
And his sun-freckled face,
And grey Connemara cloth,
Climbing up to a place
Where stone is dark under froth,
And the down-turn of his wrist
When the flies drop in the stream;
A man who does not exist,
A man who is but a dream;
And cried, "Before I am old
I shall have written him one
poem maybe as cold
And passionate as the dawn.'
I share this suggestion to Carmen Aristegui with you and Rafael. I hope
Jason will be taking care of the same issue too. I cannot refrain myself
form saying "What boldness of the Legion of Christ! My goodness! What a
weak or what a sneaky or -in the long run- what irresponsible clergy at
the highest echelons in the Vatican! Is this LC the institution they say
they have intervened?"
Pepe
by William Butler Yeats
Although I can see him still.
The freckled man who goes
To a grey place on a hill
In grey Connemara clothes
At dawn to cast his flies,
It's long since I began
To call up to the eyes
This wise and simple man.
All day I'd looked in the face
What I had hoped 'twould be
To write for my own race
And the reality;
The living men that I hate,
The dead man that I loved,
The craven man in his seat,
The insolent unreproved,
And no knave brought to book
Who has won a drunken cheer,
The witty man and his joke
Aimed at the commonest ear,
The clever man who cries
The catch-cries of the clown,
The beating down of the wise
And great Art beaten down.
Maybe a twelvemonth since
Suddenly I began,
In scorn of this audience,
Imagining a man,
And his sun-freckled face,
And grey Connemara cloth,
Climbing up to a place
Where stone is dark under froth,
And the down-turn of his wrist
When the flies drop in the stream;
A man who does not exist,
A man who is but a dream;
And cried, "Before I am old
I shall have written him one
poem maybe as cold
And passionate as the dawn.'
I share this suggestion to Carmen Aristegui with you and Rafael. I hope
Jason will be taking care of the same issue too. I cannot refrain myself
form saying "What boldness of the Legion of Christ! My goodness! What a
weak or what a sneaky or -in the long run- what irresponsible clergy at
the highest echelons in the Vatican! Is this LC the institution they say
they have intervened?"
Pepe
From: "jbarba@itam.mx" <jbarba@itam.mx>
To: irishmexican43@yahoo.com
Sent: Thursday, June 16, 2011 11:45 AM
Subject: [Fwd: Un minuto de tu valioso tiempo.]
To: irishmexican43@yahoo.com
Sent: Thursday, June 16, 2011 11:45 AM
Subject: [Fwd: Un minuto de tu valioso tiempo.]
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